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FOR SALE

Posted on June 2, 2016 by susanrray

Screen Shot 2016-06-02 at 10.26.39 AMIt’s sell-your-stuff season. Garage sales. Yard sales. Estate sales. Those sales where you price toys that were on your children’s must-have Christmas lists and then never played with. Stuff passed down from parents and grandparents and you’ve replaced with bigger and better. Stuff that matched the living room when the walls were painted Morning Sky Blue. Stuff you collected and your children dusted and they hope to never see again.

I’m not good at garage sales. Selling or buying. One time Husband and I spent weeks cleaning out closets, drawers, stacks here and there, and set up tables and hanging racks and put prices on items and then for two days I watched people come and go and haggle about such things as a fifty-cent price for a perfectly good handmade breadbasket that I bought for $12 from a beach hawker. And I sold Son’s Millennium Falcon because his interests, as a college student, were elsewhere and he said it was fine to get rid of it. Well, it wasn’t. My Grands who are Star Wars fans would treasure that vintage 1980’s Falcon.

And a few times I’ve been enticed by newspaper classified ads and set out to shop. Invariably, I see stuff exactly like I have. And I buy stuff I don’t need. Standard-sized handmade pillowcases embroidered with flowers in variegated colors. Somebody’s grandmother made these and two sets were priced $1.00. I stacked them with the cross-stitched pillowcases my Grandma Gladys made.

I’m touched by what my friend Jo shared when she was in the midst of emptying her grandparents’ house and sorting through their stuff and her parents’ stuff.  “My one sad thought about yard sales: it almost seems disrespectful to put a love one’s belongings in a sale. Going through Dad’s things has brought to my attention the tubs of nothingness my kids will go through some day. It feels good to empty my own tub and set the clutter free. So I do have mixed emotions about it.”

Mixed emotions. Happy to get stuff cleaned out. Sad to give up family belongings.

But Jo had a good idea. “My kids will find a tub one day that has a couple of their Grannie’s articles of clothing she sewed and a very old dress of their great-grandmother’s. Naming the tub makes it more valuable, you know.”

Isn’t that a great idea? Chose a few things. Store and label those with the name of the person who owned them and then give away or sell the rest. The writer in me says to include a short biography and at least one story about the person.

And Jo finds a silver lining in her yard sale. “The best part of a yard sale is visiting with neighbors that usually just pass by and throw their hands in the air. We family members might as well enjoy sitting together in Grandma’s yard and hope folks are happy with their finds. Grandma would love knowing so many of us are there and that stories will be told about her.”

I’m working on my attitude and checked out the classified ads. Section 515 in this paper. A yard sale offers toys and games from the 50’s and 80’s. Maybe, just maybe, there’s a Millennium Falcon. Even if my Grands don’t like it, I will.

But I’m not yet inspired to gather my unused, outdated, chipped, worn, torn, and no-longer-wanted stuff and put it out to sell.   Maybe, someday. But not this selling season.

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Filed under: Everyday Life, Money | Tagged: , | Leave a comment »

Smiley Faces and Emojis

Posted on April 7, 2016 by susanrray

Screen Shot 2016-04-07 at 5.06.15 PM           A smiling face is happy. A frown is sad. Well, not always. In the world of emojis, there are dozens of faces and depending on the eyes, a water droplet, or a tongue, a smile can take on different meanings.

What’s an emoji? (ēˈmōjē)   If you’re asking, you probably don’t use a smart phone or online conversation. Or maybe you hate and ignore those little pictures people use in text messages. Or you’ve seen those little pictures and didn’t know they had a name. An emoji is simply a small digital image or icon used to express an idea or emotion in an electronic communication. Certainly not everyone who communicates by email and texting and social networking uses such icons.

Is the idea for emojis really new? A yellow circle face is one of the most poplar emojis and a double first cousin to a smiley face. And haven’t smiley faces been around forever? As a teacher, I drew a circle with a big curved smile and two dots for eyes beside A and B grades on many students’ papers. Sometimes, I’d circle the dotted eyes to draw glasses and add wisps of hair. And if I wished the grade had been higher, I drew a straight-line, curved down mouth for sadness.

According to Smithsonian.com, in 1963 Harvey Ball, an American graphic artist and ad man, was commissioned to create a graphic to raise morale among the employees of an insurance company. Ball was paid $45 for his work that took less than 10 minutes. The State Mutual Life Assurance Company made posters, buttons, and signs to encourage their employees to smile more. There’s no record if that worked, but the company recognized that the logo was a hit and produced millions of buttons. Neither Ball nor the insurance company attempted to copyright the design.

In the early 1970s in Philadelphia, two brothers who owned Hallmark card shops added the slogan “Have a Happy Day” to a smiley face and produced copyrighted novelty items. Within one year, over 50 million happy day smiley face buttons and other products had been sold.

Worldwide, smiling faces have been used by many businesses, even a French newspaper to highlight positive news. And thru the years, there have been trademark and copyright disagreements, ending in lawsuits and multi-million dollar settlements. One argument is that a circle with a simple curved one-line mouth is so basic that it can’t be credited to anyone. And it’s been claimed that the world’s first smiley face dates back to 2500 BC on a stone carving found in a French cave.

Many of us can probably find a smiley face button stuck in the back of a kitchen drawer or at the bottom of a sock drawer. Those bright yellow metal buttons that have one long stickpin to wear on lapels. Those buttons that we gave to each other to say ‘Have a good day!’ Buttons we wore to let the world know we were happy.

That simple face with a curved line smile and two dots for eyes was transformed into many variations and has appeared on posters and pillows and art. And when emojis came along, smiley faces learned to scream and whisper and cry and vent and wink and love and kiss and laugh.  And along side those round faces are thousands of other emojis.

So who created emojis? Why? I intend to research just a bit and I’ll let you know.

Filed under: Everyday Life, Technology | Tagged: , , | Leave a comment »

Unusual Customer Service

Posted on March 2, 2016 by susanrray

Screen Shot 2016-03-02 at 8.19.56 PMLast week after writing about good customer service, I was reminded of two unusual shopping experiences.

In a boutique, I laid a gift certificate, valued at $4.50, and $20 on the counter to pay for a necklace that cost $20.00. The sales clerk scanned the neckace and then said, “With tax, that’ll be $21.90.” I asked her to use the gift certificate and take the rest out of the cash.

The clerk held the money and gift certificate in her hands and pulled her eyebrows down. She moved her head from side to side. I fought my teacher instinct and didn’t say that since I gave her $24.50 that I’d get $2.60 in change. She smiled, picked up a pen, wrote on the gift certificate and then said, “Now you’ve got $9.00 on your gift card and here’s you change.” She laid $1.90 on the counter.

It was my turn to frown. I was surprised that the clerk doubled the amount on my gift card and gave me the differnce between the total amount of the necklace and $20.00. “I think I used all that gift certificate. You can keep it,” I said. Because my attempt to explain the transaction was futile, I decided not to quibble over seventy cents and I put the $1.90 in my pocket.

The clerk tilted her head, obviously confused. I suggested she keep the certificate and explain the transaction to the owner and if she was correct, they could call me. I never heard from the owner and the next time I shopped in her store, I learned the confused clerk no longer worked there.

I laugh until I cry every time Patsy tells about buying one item in a wholesale club, the kind where I easily spend $200. Patsy carried a five-pound package of ground beef in her hands and noted that at least two customers, with overflowing carts, stood in all the check out lines. But there were no customers in one lane. Patsy laid the ground beef and her wholesale club card beside the cash register.

The clerk brusquely said, “This lane is for flat bed carts only.” Patsy frowned and cocked her head. The clerk explained, “For customers with a flat bed cart. You have to go through regular check out.”

Patsy picked up the package of meat and as she turned toward other check out lanes, she saw an empty flat bed cart. She lay the meat on the cart and pushed it toward the check out lane where she’d just been refused service. Facing the clerk, Patsy said, “You wanted a flat bed cart so here it is.” She picked up the package of meat and lay it on the counter.

The clerk pulled her lips into a tight straight line and her eyes opened wide. I think she knew she’d met her match. She scanned the package. Patsy paid and thanked the clerk for her service.

When I asked Patsy to tell this story for the upteenth time, she admitted that as she put her hands on the cart handle she thought it probably wasn’t the thing to do, but she’d made eye contact with other customers who’d shook their heads when they heard the clerk’s remarks so Patsy carried through. Those customers smiled and laughed as Patsy paid. If only the clerk had spoken in a kind voice, my friend would have stood in line for 10 minutes.

Shopping can be more than spending money and buying goods. Sometimes it’s entertaining – when you keep your sense of humor.

Filed under: Everyday Life, Money | Tagged: , , , | Leave a comment »

It’s All About the Service

Posted on February 25, 2016 by susanrray

Screen Shot 2016-02-25 at 7.43.02 AMThe sign posted on the van windshield stated, “My job depends on my positive attitude, great service, and the customer’s satisfaction.” The driver had greeted each of us 16 passengers with a nod, a smile, and “Good morning.” He loaded our suitcases in the back of the van and then invited us to find a seat.

Before he started the van he announced, “The ride to the airport will be about an hour. Please tell me if you’re too warm or cold so I can adjust the temperature, and you can adjust the air vents above you. Sit back, enjoy the scenery, and we’ll travel safely.” And that’s what happened. As we travelled, that sign grabbed my thoughts. I sometimes long for the days of full service, especially when shopping for clothes.

About fifteen years ago, I bought a blouse because of great service. I’d found a pair of pants that looked long enough to fit my six-foot tall frame on a sale rack. “I think they’ll be short, but try them,” the sales clerk said. She was right. “So do you only want black pants or are you open to other colors?” Any color, just long enough.

While I sat in the dressing room, she chose pants and brought them to me. Some I tried on. “No. Long enough, but too big in the waist.” “Too tight.” I appreciated honesty. But, the jeans were perfect. “Are you interested a Foxcroft blouse? We just got new ones and they run long.” I wasn’t shopping for a blouse and didn’t know the brand Foxcroft, but I was willing to try.

That button-up-the-front, shirttail blouse is still a go-to. Almost every time I wear it, someone compliments the bright blue color and asks where I got it. I know the salesclerk worked on commission, but she was upbeat and friendly and carried a closetful of clothes to my dressing room.

About three years ago, I shopped for a dress to wear to the Fur Ball in a branch of the same store and the customer service was as expected. After choosing five dresses, I was guided to a dressing room. “Looks like you’re going to Cinderella’s Ball.” The salesclerk hung each dress on a separate hook. “Which is your favorite? Try it first.” I reached for a long black scoop neck dress and salesclerk said, “I can help you with zippers and such or get out of your way.” I welcomed help. None of those dresses fit. So the clerk brought others and when I didn’t choose one, she remained positive and friendly. I worked in a dress shop years ago– in the days when the customer was always right – and I know great customer service takes determination and effort.

Haven’t we all chosen a restaurant based on service? A run-of-the-mill cheeseburger tastes better when it’s served with a smile and a tea glass is refilled without asking.  And if I’m told, ‘have a good day,’ when I’m handed a takeout order through a window, I smile.

Nowadays, it seems that self-service is the norm. I pump gas and clean my van windshield with the service station’s squeegee, and when buying only a gallon of milk, I use self-service checkout. But I truly appreciate good customer service.

So I shop where the employees show positive attitudes and provide great service. Then, just like the driver’s sign said, I’m a happy customer.

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Filed under: Everyday Life, Money | Tagged: , , | 1 Comment »

Tools that Make Life Easier

Posted on February 8, 2016 by susanrray

Screen Shot 2016-02-08 at 3.35.10 PM“Gran, why is this fat pencil in here?” Elsie, my eight-year-old Grand, held a thick yellow pencil from my kitchen desk pencil and pen jar.

“I like it,” I said.

Elsie opened her eyes wide. “Really? This is for little kids.”

“And for grown-ups whose fingers don’t work as well as they once did. I’ll use it. You can choose another.” She picked a number two pencil that had a rubber gripper near the sharpened point and she shoved that gripper close to the eraser. I made my grocery list; she worked on her math schoolwork.

Fat pencils and fat pens – my choice for writing.   Fat ballpoint pens with rubber grips fit my hand best and when they’re given as marketing products, I always ask for more than one. I want tools that make life easier.

I used to struggle opening bottles or jars. Wrapped the lid in a dishtowel or put on my rubber gloves. Tried to break the vacuum seal. Ran hot water over the lid. But now I just pull out my handy-dandy bottle opener that looks like a giant Y. No matter how big or small, the jar top fits between the V-shape on the opener and its teeth grasp the lid. I give a twist, and voila – the jar lid loosens. Pampered Chef advertises this product as great gifts for grandma. True.

A funny looking knife is another tool I’ve added to my kitchen. Jo Ann, my college roommate, held the strangest knife. The blade and handle were positioned at an angle – almost a right angle. She grasped the fat handle with all four fingers meeting her thumb and easily sliced a cucumber. A description of such as knife reads, “Keeps the wrist in a neutral position. Ergonomic handle provides a firm grip in either hand. Designed especially for people with weak hands or wrists, but is comfortable for all users.” Weak hands? I’m not sure about that but I know my odd looking knife surely makes cutting and carving easier.

Anyone else have trouble opening a medicine bottle? The last one I tried to open labeled with instructions to push down and turn, I cussed. The push down, I got. The turn, I didn’t. Sick with a sinus infection and running a fever, I couldn’t get a little pink pill out of the bottle. I pushed with one hand and tried to turn with the other. I pried the top with an old-fashioned bottle opener, forcing the small triangle end under the lid. It didn’t budge. I tried to turn with a pair of pliers. I couldn’t push down, hold the bottle and pliers all at the same time – I needed another hand. About the time I considered smashing the plastic bottle with a hammer, Husband came home from work and pushed and turned.

When I shared my frustration with my pharmacist, he nodded. “We can fix that. I’ll make a note to not put child resistant lids on all your bottles. Just keep them out of reach of children.” So now, I get those easy flip off lids and medicine bottles are stored on high shelves.

Fat pens and pencils. Funny looking knives. Flip top pill lids. I’m thankful for tools that work well with stiff fingers, lazy grips, and wrists that don’t bend as they once did.

But my newest favorite kitchen gadget I can use easily and both the Grands and I think it’s fun. Tune in next week.

Filed under: Everyday Life | Tagged: , , , , | 3 Comments »

If Wishes Came True

Posted on January 7, 2016 by susanrray

 

I wish…..I saw a poster on Facebook that stated, “I wish there were more hours in a day and everyone was nice and bread didn’t make you fat.” Immediately, I hit the like button. Who wouldn’t like eating all the bread you wanted, especially hot-from-the-oven sour dough bread slathered with butter, and then have your nice friends compliment you on the thirty pounds you gained?

I asked Facebook friends what they would wish for. The replies ranged from serious to silly. Personal to worldwide. Heart wrenching to heart lifting.

I wish I could remember all my passwords. I wish healthy food tasted as good as dessert. That I could always be as happy as I am when I look into the face of a child. I wish we would talk more and communicate electronically less. (Ironically, we were communicating electronically.)

Grandmothers wished blessings on children. That all people would see children as miracles and love them accordingly. I wish my baby granddaughter who is in Monroe Carroll Hospital at Vanderbilt could come home soon! I wish every child could be loved, nurtured and accepted for who they are.

Several wished for peace on earth. And probably peace is what two friends had in mind: I wish for a world without guns. I wish everyone knew Christ and didn’t just know about Him.

Teacher friends spoke out. I wish that teachers were paid (and appreciated) as much as doctors, lawyers, and professional athletes.   I wish my college students would learn that the answers for everything they ask are in the SYLLABUS.

From parents of teenagers: I wish we had the wisdom, that has life taught us, when we were 17. I wish my kids, ages 12 and 17, wouldn’t insist on learning things the hard way. I wish they’d realize that parents share advice to try to make their lives a little easier.

Wishes covered everyone. I wish each of us valued the other person as much as we value ourselves. I wish we could find a cure for cancer and other terminal illnesses. That everyone looked for the good in others and no one would ever go to bed hungry. Days with lots of laughter.

Many thought of family. I wish for more time with my dad and favorite aunt and uncle. People are here for a time and then they are gone too soon. Memories live on, but oh, just for a little more time. I wish for one day with my mom and dad so they could know my children. I wish I could spend a week in the mountains or at the beach with my siblings. I wish that families still lived close and children knew their family members.

Young mothers wished for their grandparents. I wish my mother and grandparents were still alive. I wish I had Granny Ruby’s and Pa Lehman’s stories that they used to tell me written down or recorded! I wish I had all of my grandmother’s recipes.

Not one person wished for money or stuff. Maybe because those who responded are like me: we have the necessities of life.   Food and clothes. Warm homes and running water.

My friends’ wishes remind me that time is my greatest commodity. My heart joins those who wish to be with grandparents and aunts and uncles and siblings. And those who recognize happiness in a child’s face and that children are miracles.

Which wish made me grin the biggest? I wish that all people could get their wishes. Me, too.

Filed under: Everyday Life, Inspirational | Tagged: , , | Leave a comment »

2015 Year in Review

Posted on December 31, 2015 by susanrray

imagesI’m a sucker for reading any list that is entitled 2015 Year in Review. A look back at the people and events and places that made the news during the past twelve months.  And so, I created my own list.

Annie. My youngest Grand was born! I flew across the country to be with Son’s family for nine days. On the day Annie was born, her two older brothers and I stayed home when her parents went to the hospital. I met Annie and cradled her in my arms when she was only 18 hours old. My tears were happy tears.

Concussion. After I tripped, flipped, and hit my head on a baby grand piano, I sported two raccoon black eyes and an addled brain. I never, ever wanted a concussion and hope to never, ever have another. I don’t do dizzy well.

Gatlinburg with college girlfriends. Seven women who have kept each other’s secrets and knows each other’s faults and pick up past conversations as if we still lived together in Meadows Hall on Tennessee Tech’s campus.

The Blarney Stone. I stood on the sidewalk beside the Blarney Castle and threw a kiss. And I’m positive that I was gifted with eloquence as were those who patiently moseyed up the narrow stairwell to the top of castle, lay on their backs, held tightly to metal poles, tilted their head upside down, and kissed the stone. For two hours, I wandered through the gardens and stables surrounding this famous Ireland castle.

Cross-stitch quilt. Seven years ago, I pieced together thirty fabric blocks that my mother and Grandma Gladys had embroidered with tiny cross-stitches, and I began hand quilting that quilt. My very first quilting project. I completed two blocks each winter until January 2015 when I declared the quilt would be finished by September. So the quilt kit that Mom bought from Lee Ward’s catalog in 1966 was finally completed forty-nine years later. And because Daughter and my Grands quilted a few inches on the border, it’s named the Five-Generation Quilt. The most priceless thing I own.

Building the Heart of the City Playground. I’ve never been so happy to pick up trash and sweep water and count pieces of wood – all while enduring a steady rain. On a clear day, I painted handrails and served lunch and supper to the many volunteers. This community endeavor was truly one of Cookeville’s best.

Red tide and blue jellyfish. A beach trip began with red tide, a phenomenon caused by microorganisms that take on a reddish brown color in the water. The trip ended with blue jellyfish, Velvella, littering the beach. Beautiful creatures to look at, but not to touch. God’s creations amaze me.

Reunions. Because Husband’s Tennessee Tech fraternity celebrated a 50-year milestone, friends from near and far came for Tech’s homecoming. We marveled how quickly the years have passed and we toasted long-lasting friendships.

Tea Party. If you’ve never been to a tea party with little girls, you’ve missed a giggling good time. While baking Christmas cookies with her older sister and me, six-year-old Ruth asked, “Gran, can we have a tea party?” Older sister frowned and shook her head so Ruth invited three of her friends. She set the kitchen table with my best kid-friendly Christmas plates and arranged cookies on a Christmas tree platter. Even the three dolls who sat at our table seemed to giggle.

Now it’s your turn. Think through the year and jot down some notes. The people, the events, the places.   Who and what made news in your life in 2015?

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Filed under: Celebrate, Everyday Life | Tagged: , | 1 Comment »

Moments Shared with Strangers

Posted on November 19, 2015 by susanrray

imgresMy friend, Kim, shared a grocery store experience that she called Memories Shared Between Strangers. Kim stood in a check out line between two strangers. A man, about age 80, in front of her and a man close to her age behind her. After the cashier scanned Kim’s groceries, he asked if Kim wanted to contribute one-dollar to St. Jude Hospital. Kim agreed, and then the clerk asked if she wanted her name on the donation. Kim shook her head. The customer behind her said, “Just write Bozo.”

“His comment led to a trip down memory lane for both of us,” Kim told me. “We reminisced about Bozo, Ms. Nancy and the Romper Room, the Magic Mirror and Captain Kangaroo. I remembered that when I was a kid I received a postcard from Ms. Nancy and my momma still has it. The young cashier probably thought we were crazy, but the stranger and I shared smiles and good memories.”

When Kim picked up her grocery bags, she noticed the older man who’d been in front of her was still standing close and was smiling. He’d heard the conversation. Kim wondered why he’d stayed to listen. Was it memories of his child watching those programs? Kim ended her story with these words: “Whatever it was, all three of us, all complete strangers, shared something special together in that moment. We all left the store a little happier.”

Last week as I put a few items on the check out counter at Hobby Lobby, the woman in front of me said, “Did you get my candy?” and she held up a candy bar for the clerk to see. The clerk shook her head, scanned the candy bar, and started to put it a plastic bag with the woman’s other purchases. “Oh, no,” the woman said, “the chocolate goes in my purse. I’m eating it as soon as I get to the car.” I laughed.

“I’m glad someone else treats herself after shopping,” I said. “I do that, too, sometimes.”

The clerk chuckled and then said, “It’s not just on your side of the counter. I’ve got M&Ms in my pocket right now. That’s my break time treat.” So while the clerk scanned my purchases, we three women laughed and talked about our need for an afternoon chocolate snack.

Maybe no one connects with smiles more often than we grandparents. It happens almost every time I have a Grand with me. I buckled Micah, 17 months old, in his car seat in my van parked in a store parking lot. As I started to close the van door, I heard a man’s voice. “Hello, there!” I turned and saw a gray-headed man, a stranger with a big smile. He stopped a few feet from me. “Is it okay if I say hello to your little guy?” It was. He made a silly face and noise and Micah laughed, and of course, both we adults laughed. The man and I talked briefly about the joys of grandchildren. He waved good-bye to Micah and went on his way.

Brief encounters. Just a few words. Shared memories. Mutual cravings for chocolate. Laughing with another grandparent. One or two minutes spent talking and laughing with total strangers. Here in the South, we call that being friendly.

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Choosing the Right Check-out Line

Posted on September 30, 2015 by susanrray

Screen Shot 2015-09-30 at 4.22.24 PMBefore getting in a grocery store check out line, I survey every line. How many people in each line?   How full are their carts? I’m determined to choose the fastest moving line, and one day I was positive I’d made the best choice. The only cart ahead of me was filled two-liter drinks, and the customer was piling those drinks on the conveyer belt.

I began stacking my groceries behind the drinks. By the time my cart was empty, I realized that some drink bottles were still on the counter and a woman, wearing a manager’s nametag, was talking to the customer.

Manager: I’m sorry, but there’s a limit. You can only buy six two-liter drinks at the advertised price.

Customer: Nobody told me.

Manager: There are signs on the drink aisle and it was stated in the newspaper ad. (She nodded toward the newspaper tucked under the customer’s arm.)

Customer: I didn’t get all the same drinks. I want six of each kind.

After a few more exchanges, in which the manager spoke in a calm, controlled voice, the customer put her hands on her hips and looked at her cart. She handed one two-liter bottle to the young male cashier and said that she didn’t know which drinks to put back. The manager walked away after thanking the customer for her understanding. The cashier stood quietly and smiled as the woman changed her mind several times. I wanted to tell her to choose six, any six!

Finally, she handed money to the cashier. He counted out her change and explained the savings shown printed on her receipt. At last, my turn. But it wasn’t. The customer stared at her receipt. At this point, I’m annoyed, and I notice that the cashier has maintained a pleasant attitude. I read his name on his nametag: David.

Customer: You charged me too much.

David: The discount is listed below the regular price.

Customer: You charged me for 7, not 6.

She threw the receipt onto the counter, and David counted aloud to six as he pointed to numbers on the receipt.

Customer: You didn’t count all of the numbers.

In a friendly voice, David suggested that she take the receipt to customer service where someone could be sure that everything was correct.

Customer: You just don’t want to do it right.

David: (turning to the employee who had bagged the six drinks) Will you please carry her bags and get customer service to help her immediately?

The bag boy picked up the three full plastic bags, nodded and smiled to the customer, and said, “Right this way, ma’am.” It took another minute for her to put the newspaper, her billfold, and her glasses in her purse before she walked away.

David turned my way and smiled. “Welcome. How are you today?”

“Thanks, I’m really good. And you?” I asked.

“Having a good day.”

I shook my head and chuckled. “You certainly handled that situation well. I wouldn’t have been so patient. Congratulations on a job well done.”

“We try, ma’m,” he said as he began scanning my groceries.

I’ve had some bad days. Some confusing and frustrating checkout experiences. I don’t mean to be critical of the customer ahead of me. My takeaway from this experience is to appreciate people, like David, who are courteous and respectful, even in a difficult situation.

I chose the check out line that took a really long time. I chose the right one.

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Aprons and More Aprons

Posted on September 10, 2015 by susanrray

Screen Shot 2015-09-10 at 8.07.50 AMAprons are not just for mothers and grandmothers, and a cook’s apron can tell you if you want to eat what’s on the dinner table. I thought I’d shared everything about aprons in a previous column, but some friends’ comments pushed me to write more.

When Kay’s son was a high school student, he asked for an apron for Christmas and he didn’t plan to cook. He put it on every school morning before he left home. All the crumbs from his breakfast that he ate as he drove, fell on the apron, not his clothes. I wonder if his football teammates knew he wore an apron. Do they tease him or wish they were brave enough to slip one over their heads?

One Christmas I surprised Son with an apron. He unwrapped his gift, saw bright orange fabric and said, “Oh, a Lickity Split apron.” LickitySplit – the convenience store that Husband owned when Son was a kid. Son stood, slipped the neck strap over his head, and then said, “Wow! This is great! It’s long enough.” The standard Lickity Split apron didn’t cover much of Son’s 6’9” frame. But when I cut the bottom off of one and sewed it onto another, that extra long apron was just right. On work mornings, he dresses for the day and wears his apron while making and eating breakfast with my Grand who awakes before the sun comes up. And Son is a grill master – the spots on his apron prove it.

My friends agree that a spotless apron means one of two things: it’s never been worn or don’t trust the cook. A good cook’s apron has stains. Squirts of spaghetti sauce, splatters of bacon grease, drippings from barbequed ribs, and blackberry purple blotches. If the cook’s apron is spotless, I say, “You know I’m really not very hungry. I won’t eat much.” Maybe the cook is wearing a brand new apron, but I have an out until I take a few bites and can decide that I’m hungrier than I thought.

A gardening apron hangs on a hook in my laundry room. Bib style made of heavy fabric and with big pockets along the bottom – perfect to carry a digging trowel and I’m not sure what else because I’ve never put a gardening tool in it. I discovered those pockets are also perfect for feather dusters, dust cloths, spray cleaner, and a few paper towels. I should wear it more often or give it to a gardener.

One of my favorite aprons is a waist apron with ties much too short to reach around my waist, but it’d fit one of my young Grands perfectly. It’s made of bright yellow cotton fabric and trimmed with decorative tape with tiny red and yellow flowers.  This apron has many deep narrow pockets, the perfect size for crayons, and two larger pockets. Crayons, scissors, and mucilage glue – that’s what was in the pockets when Mom gave me this little yellow apron, that she’d made, for my sixth birthday.

I’m told there are specialty job aprons. For welders, seed-sowers, chefs, waiters, potters, blacksmiths, artists. But somehow, when I think of an apron, the first one to come to mind is still a green and white one that tied around Mother’s waist. And it’s covered with stains.

 

 

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