A Love Letter...

...to my husband. He probably will never read this because every time he has read this little missive his response is "I already knew that."

I came across a picture of Bob that I had taken when we lived in Delaware and he was sitting on the porch. The picture is blurry and not the best but to me it is everything that he is and everything that I treasure about him.

I love his openness and innocence and wonder at everything...but it is coupled with a grown up awareness. He has an integrity that just emanates from him. He always tries to do his best and very near to all times does. He rolls with the punches.

He is a realist...he is a dreamer. Sometimes I see those things clash within him...and now I understand why he was a Philosophy major. Oh, those little epiphanies of life.

He worries more than he would wish and probably doesn't think that I know that about him...and understand because I chew on everything and he gets that about me.

He chastises himself about his bad habits and tries to correct them and frequently does...he is so much better at taking care of himself than I am...and he worries about me because I don't so much take good care of myself. I have a tendency to be a candle at both ends. It bothers me that I worry him.

I admire and love his tenacity.

He is such a brother to his friends...and I am glad that he found his Twin Brother of Different Mother, John. They understand each so well.

He has the best laugh and is not afraid to share it. I love that I tickle him by talking into his neck and he hates it and loves it at the same time. Hates that it tickles, hates that it is annoying and he laughs anyway, even while pushing me away.

He is a man in the moment...and he has left places abruptly leaving people to ask and ponder "What about Bob?" I always thought it one of his charming quirks...but could be upsetting to others...even insulting. He has know thought to include the goodbye portion of the program...being in the moment does not always mean deference to social graces...but he knows himself and we should all take a lesson on when to leave from the master.

I thank whatever fate in my life that brought us together. Neither one of us has an idea of how long we have been married...I do believe it is in the five or year six year range...but we know our anniversary day...November 16. (We had to postpone our ceremony slightly because our guests were watching Ohio State play whoever in a championship season and it went into two (I think) overtimes...anyone who knows me would know how ironic that is)...if you know the game and year...let me know how long we've been married.

To steal from Joni Mitchell:

He's a singer in the park
He's a walker in the rain, he's a dancer in the dark.
My old man, keeping away my blues.

He's my sunshine in the morning,
He's my fireworks at the end of the day.
He's the warmest chord I ever heard...

Thank you, Joni Mitchell...how I love that man of mine.

My world rocks because of him.

Am I Doing Something Nice....

...the right reasons? Do you ever wonder that when you put yourself out of your way for a work colleague? I do...but of course I question and doubt myself at least 85% of the time on any given day so why would this surprise me?

Our new store manager started this week and she seems very nice and a good fit for us. She seems to have a very positive attitude and definitely is used to being at the top of her rankings in any company that she has been with previously. I get the feeling she will expect that from us and the store but doesn't seem like she will kill us to make that happen.

The good thing I offered and am doing...tomorrow begins my vacation but I am going in to do markdowns. It could be a big bunch of markdowns but I am going to be doing them with Gerri and I know we can get them done in a couple of hours. Gerri is like the supreme worker bee on speed. That woman could probably get the whole store marked down and placed by herself in three hours....and we don't have hand scanners...so we are talking a LOT of touching and hauling of clothes.

ANYWAY...the reason that I had said that I would come in and do the markdowns was because there didn't seem to be anyone else because we also are supposed to move the store around tomorrow. Fine and good but did make me feel a little cranky that I of course was feeling responsible and guilty at the same time....blahblahblah.

Gwen (our new SM) called to say she was running late because of a phone call and lost track of time and was on her cellphone, on her way (she is a Chatty Cathy which I can appreciate and relate to but is a trait that will drive a couple of our ladies crazy). In the short conversation we had she bubbled out that she had gotten tickets months ago to the Cincinnati football game, they were expensive, she was going to take her grandson who is 12, and she was late because the phone call entailed trying to find someone to take the tickets because she was going to be working tomorrow. I talked to Karen, we looked at the schedule, and called Gwen back to say "Don't do anything with the tickets". When she got to the store, I told her that I would work until mid afternoon which would give us the same floor coverage if she had been here and that she should take her grandson to the game. She seemed a little surprised at the offer but happy about it.

Phrases that made my mind up..."tickets bought months ago"..."my grandson". When she told me he was 12, all I could think of was Cory's relationship with my Dad at that age and all the stuff my Dad did with him. The fact that she was taking her 12 year old grandson to a football game...and that he was cool with going to a football game with his Grandma and was upset when she had to tell him they couldn't go...well, that cinched it for me. The grandparent/grandchild relationship is really important and I want her to have that before her grandson gets to be 14 and turns into a teenager...God only knows where boys minds go between the ages of 14 and 20...but they don't often think of grandparents.

So I did a good thing by being in the store a couple of more hours tomorrow.

Here is the query/quandary? Did I do a good thing to be nice or was I sucking up...or just worried that it looks like sucking up? I know the answer and it is about appearances...and really how it appears to only one co-worker...and that is because I have seen her applying a whole lot of Chapstick this week.

Meow.

Happiness Runs...

...and it did tonight. Friends came over, lawn chairs in tow, food packed and ready to share...and John was cooking steaks. We were on the patio until the skeeters got too bad and we moved inside. The food was fabulous and nothing is better than steak and summer salad dishes on paper plates eaten with plastic silverware and a side of great conversation.

We all moved out to the Tree house and eventually turned off the lights and were lit by the brilliant moon. We all got so silly. We were making shadow puppets on the wall and singing Simon and Garfunkel and some other spontaneously stupid song that we cannot remember what the heck it was but everyone was singing and we were laughing until our stomachs hurt. It was brilliant. Bob thought was that turning off the lights makes everyone free...to be stupid and childlike and just be okay to be you.

It was an evening to savor and love for the connections and the moments and just because everyone was IN THE MOMENT...it just seemed an affirmation of the good people and things in our lives...in my and Bob's lives. We were with family.

I wish you all the best for the coming week. Rock your world and love the people in it.

What Goes With This...

one of my customers asked me as they were holding up a pair of cotton and spandex blend pair of BLACK pants. After I looked at her quizzically and she back at me the conversation went as follows:

Me: Do you mean was there a specific piece to match it?
Her: I guess so.
Me: No, there wasn't. What kind of a thing are you looking for?
Her: Something to go with these. (holds pants out to me)
I am thinking...actually screaming to self...THEY ARE F'ING BLACK PANTS...ANYTHING WILL GO...and instead of voicing that opinion asked...
Me: What are you looking for? A sweater?
Her: I don't know...
Me: A jacket?
Her: I don't know...
Me: Casual?
Her: I don't know...

We're starting to see a pattern here...and as we begin our tour of the store and look at every piece with black print in it or a black that didn't match the particular black of the pant, it became clear that she wanted sale merchandise only and only wanted to spend no more than $70...well and good and that was a good thing to know. We found her a jacket that was on sale that looked great on her...showed her how to put a belt on top of the jacket and I could tell by the way she looked at herself in the mirror, she was happy and felt cool and pretty. Mission accomplished.

...but why does it have to be so hard? If she only wanted sale (which is what I look for) why couldn't she say that off the bat? Did she think that I would not be helpful or nice to her if she told me that? Maybe that was her thought process...and that kind of makes me sad.

Part Deux of Strange Little Monkeys in Chicoland...and this one was Flying because she had been at the Rusty Bucket with her girlfriend. I admire and applaud and miss and lust for girlfriend time and lunch/dinner and shopping is the best girlfriend time ever. (Connie and I blew off Sunday excerpts at OCTA for Girl's Day at Easton) I am believing though that when the sales person can smell your alcohol content two feet across the counter...you may want to rethink your shopping expedition. We found this person what she wanted after a little confusion at my interpretation of what she was looking for and that was all well and good. Her friend pipes up as the woman is checking out that she has a coupon that she can use....we could look it up.

We have changed our coupon policy so that you can only use your own and not look up someone else's because of "Privacy Issues" (i.e. the company finally figured out that people were abusing the system...NO DUH!) I explain that I am sorry but we can't do that any longer blahblahblah...and then the following conversation ensues...

Her to Friend: I know Verna Gibson who was the President of The Limited...
Friend: Who?
Her: Verna Gibson...she was the President of the Limited and now is on the Board of Directors for Chico's. I know her. I was her Financial Planner...God, the Chico stock sucks...I would have thought it would be doing better now that Verna Gibson (who I know) is on the Board of Directors...

I do believe that I heard the name Verna Gibson at least ten more times and fuck it, I took the stupid $20 off for the friend's coupon. I didn't tell her that I did it and she will probably never even realize.

I hate it that women can come into our store and stomp their feet and know that we will buckle because God forbid our District Manager gets a complaint call. That is anathema in Chicoland.

I don't like being bullied and that's what she was doing to me.

I hope she feels like crap in the morning.

The Fight...

...over bedding has become an issue in our house. I like to crawl into a bed...well, crawl isn't the best description...I suppose slide would be better...into a bed that is tucked tight enough to be an envelope. Bob, on the other hand, wants to be free. When he gets into bed, the first thing he does is kick the sheets out at end of the bed. All well and good and part of marriage. I have learned how to make a bed and only hospital corner one side and not grumble too much when I make the bed in the morning because it always needs remade like you are changing the sheets.

Our bedspread has become a bone of contention. It is pink gingham with two big ruffles at the bottom and I love it. Bob has put up with it because I love it but the warfare with the bedspread has begun. Every night it either ends up heaped on my side of the bed or totally banished to the floor because he gets mad at it...which for some reason just pisses me off. Logically, I know that I am being irrational...he is insulting my pink bedspread and my efforts to bring pretty into our bedroom!!!

Bob is all about form follows function (did I ever mentioned that he was a Philosophy major...which to me equates with he majored in thinking...which to anyone who knows me means that he and I really ARE ying and yang). His explanation of the fight with the bedspread is that he never slept under one and it's too heavy.

Okay, that makes sense and is logical...

...and I am okay with that...

...but I still want the pretty bedroom that I never had as a kid. I wanted the white furniture and the canopy while my parents bought the furniture that was utilitarian classic dark wood that you would be able to take with you when you grew up and moved. My sister and I both took our bedroom suites into our grownup lives.

My friend Molly recently saw our bedroom and liked the pink bedspread and wondereed how Bob felt about it...it does take a real man to deal with pink gingham. I guess I kind of blew the question off...

We are now sleeping underneath a quilt and a blanket.

Compromise and love are wonderful.

It's 5:00...

...and I am still in my robe. I do feel a little guilty about it but if the truth be known...not so much. I have taken a bath, the clothes I intend to put on are ready to go...I just haven't gotten around to it. I have been doing little projects but not really the stuff that I really need to be doing...like the laundry that is overflowing or picking up my clothes in our bedroom because it looks like my closet has regurgitated all of its contents. (Have I mentioned how patient my husband is about that kind of stuff?)

All in all, I am having a lovely day. Sitting in my litle computer room I get to look out at the change of season and listen to music and it makes me happy. It's brilliant.

I hope that y'all are having an equally brilliant day.

I Would Like to Thank...

the three or four or more ladies who asked me this week if I had gotten a promotion and was now the Store Manager. I wish I had told them how much that question meant to me... to explain the delight and satisfaction to me that they saw me that way. To a couple of them ...who are regular customers and I see often...I laughed (kind of loudly) when they asked me. They looked puzzled... and I explained that our company doesn't usually hire within. They loked even more puzzled...like our company was crazy. ( That so feels like bragging to me.)

...and their puzzled faces made me believe I must me doing something okay. (Another uncomfortable little moment.)

I am having a good month as far as bonus goes and I am thankful for it...yet I have not kept track of persons who those brilliant sales were from so that I can continue to call them to keep them informed of the wonderful, unique, supreme quality Chico's clothes comng to the store near them...and nor do I want to. I can be annoying enough in person ...I do not need a telephone as an accessory to annoyance.

Bottom line...I hope that the customers were happy with what they purchased and it suits their needs.

Isn't it funny how we reveal the truth when we least expect it and have little epiphanies? The above line was a way earlier part of this writing that I somehow thought I edited...but there it is...and that is what I believe about my job.

I want a person to come back to my store because she felt good after she left...not because she felt hustled into buying a bunch of clothes that benefit the salespersons bottom line but are going to hang in her closet.

In the grand scheme of things...

I don't want to swim with sharks. I don't have a wet suit nor a stun gun and I am very afraid of chum in the water. (It's a retail thing...if you've experienced it, you know.)

I think I must have been an Elf and and a Communist in another life. Maybe that explains a lot.