Monday, March 31, 2008
Hope everyone is well. The weather today- phenomenal. (although, a bit chilly for my liking). I LOVE the rain.....I love the sound, the smell, the feeling of drops ping-ping-pinging on my bare hands. Last night, I was awoken by a loud rumble of thunder and sighed with a smile spilling across my face as I quickly dozed off again. I saw my first earthworm of the season on my way to my car this morning. Rain brings me an incredible amount of joy. I'm sure to write more of this later.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Yesterday I was at my dear friend, Crystal's house for lunch. Her husband, Ben- another dear friend, passed this story to her via email just recently. This author is Stephen Leacock, a Canadian writer who lived from 1869 to 1944. As she read to me, I was laughing out loud- and I wanted to share it with you. Read only if you have time to enjoy it. If not now, come back to visit another time. :) Enjoy!
My Financial Career
When I go into a bank I get rattled. The clerks rattle me; the wickets rattle me; the sight of the money rattles me; everything rattles me.
The moment I cross the threshold of a bank and attempt to transact business there, I become an irresponsible idiot.
I knew this beforehand, but my salary had been raised to fifty dollars a month and I felt that the bank was the only place for it.
So I shambled in and looked timidly round at the clerks. I had an idea that a person about to open an account must needs consult the manager.
I went up to a wicket marked “Accountant.” The accountant was a tall, cool devil. The very sight of him rattled me. My voice was sepulchral.
“Can I see the manager?” I said, and added solemnly, “alone.” I don’t know why I said “alone.”
“Certainly,” said the accountant, and fetched him.
The manager was a grave, calm man. I held my fifty-six dollars clutched in a crumpled ball in my pocket.
“Are you the manager?” I said. God knows I didn’t doubt it.
“Yes,” he said.
“Can I see you,” I asked, “alone?” I didn’t want to say “alone” again, but without it the thing seemed self-evident.
The manager looked at me in some alarm. He felt that I had an awful secret to reveal.
“Come in here,” he said, and led the way to a private room. He turned the key in the lock.
“We are safe from interruption here,” he said; “sit down.” We both sat down and looked at each other. I found no voice to speak.
“You are one of Pinkerton’s men, I presume,” he said.
He had gathered from my mysterious manner that I was a detective. I knew what he was thinking, and it made me worse.
“No, not from Pinkerton’s,” I said, seeming to imply that I came from a rival agency.
“To tell the truth,” I went on, as if I had been prompted to lie about it,” I am not a detective at all. I have come to open an account. I intend to keep all my money in this bank.”
The manager looked relieved but still serious; he concluded now that I was a son of Baron Rothschild or a young Gould.
“A large account, I suppose,” he said.
“Fairly large,” I whispered. “I propose to deposit fifty-six dollars now and fifty dollars a month regularly.”
The manager got up and opened the door. He called to the accountant.
“Mr. Montgomery,” he said unkindly loud, “this gentleman is opening an account, he will deposit fifty-six dollars. Good morning.”
I rose. A big iron door stood open at the side of the room. “Good morning,” I said, and stepped into the safe.
“Come out,” said the manager coldly, and showed me the other way.
I went up to the accountant’s wicket and poked the ball of money at him with a quick convulsive movement as if I were doing a conjuring trick.
My face was ghastly pale.
“Here,” I said, “deposit it.” The tone of the words seemed to mean, “Let us do this painful thing while the fit is on us.”
He took the money and gave it to another clerk. He made me write the sum on a slip and sign my name in a book. I no longer knew what I was doing. The bank swam before my eyes.
“Is it deposited?” I asked in a hollow, vibrating voice.
“It is,” said the accountant.
“Then I want to draw a cheque.”
My idea was to draw out six dollars of it for present use. Someone gave me a chequebook through a wicket and someone else began telling me how to write it out. The people in the bank had the impression that I was an invalid millionaire. I wrote something on the cheque and thrust it in at the clerk. He looked at it.
“What! are you drawing it all out again?” he asked in surprise. Then I realized that I had written fifty-six instead of six. I was too far gone to reason now. I had a feeling that it was impossible to explain the thing. All the clerks had stopped writing to look at me.
Reckless with misery, I made a plunge.
“Yes, the whole thing.”
“You withdraw your money from the bank?”
“Every cent of it.”
“Are you not going to deposit any more?” said the clerk, astonished.
An idiot hope struck me that they might think something had insulted me while I was writing the cheque and that I had changed my mind. I made a wretched attempt to look like a man with a fearfully quick temper.
The clerk prepared to pay the money.
“How will you have it?” he said.
“How will you have it?”
“Oh”—I caught his meaning and answered without even trying to think—“in fifties.”
He gave me a fifty-dollar bill.
“And the six?” he asked dryly.
“In sixes,” I said.
He gave it to me and I rushed out.
As the big door swung behind me I caught the echo of a roar of laughter that went up to the ceiling of the bank. Since then I bank no more. I keep my money in cash in my trousers pocket and my savings in silver dollars in a sock.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Anyway, I'm remembering the art of sewing very fondly and recall mom teaching me on her machine when I was pretty young. She'd let me run lines up and down scraps of fabric while she prepared dinner. I remember the power of the foot pedal- that with the slightest pressure from my small foot, the machine would lunge into a frenzy of stitches, pulling the fabric forward more powerfully than I had expected.
It's now that I am falling in love with patterns and fabrics- and wishing so badly to get started on a new project. I ordered a new book from Amazon- and here are some samples that someone has made from the book:
Here are some of the photos I found:
I think the trickiest part is going to be finding fabric. If you run across anything or have clothes you're throwing away- let me peruse them first! I'm going to go to Hobby Lobby and see what they have- but L-town doesn't have a great selection of fabric....not that I've found, at least.
If you have ideas, let me know. Otherwise, stay tuned- hopefully soon, I'll be on my way in the sewing world!
Monday, March 24, 2008
I was at my parents' house for Easter. My brother and I drove up Friday afternoon and Nate joined us later Saturday. It was such a blessing to have everyone there- although, this new-found dilemma of whose parents to spend the holidays with is something with which neither Nate nor I are familiar- something to be handled very carefully and delicately- a new art to learn. We did miss being with his family this weekend- but will hopefully see them very soon.
We enjoyed our time at my parents house- the Easter bunny stopped by and dropped off a few small gifts- it was a female Easter bunny- mom said she saw a pink pony-tail as she was hopping away. None of the rest of us saw her- but the gifts were enough to know she is real. :)
Because I don't have a camera- and my brother and mom are the only ones that took photos this weekend, this is the only one I have of Easter so far. We both look really great. :)
I've been substitute teaching nearly every day. This week is our spring break, so I have a lot of time during the day. The new coffee shop should be opening up soon- so I can start working there again soon- hopefully.
I also inherited my grandmother's sewing machine- a singer that's been opened and looked at, but never used. She said her eyes are getting too bad and she just won't use it. So last night I sat with my laptop in bed with me perusing ideas for something to make. I've sewn before- grade school and high school led to a few blankets and skirts- and more recently I made Nate a quilt for Christmas. Always easy patterns, however. So now, I'll start easy once again and see what my little hands can create. I'm excited to start exploring a new hobby.... :)
Last night I had a dream that I've never had before- that I could fly. It was incredible. Although, unless I continued to gather clouds in my arms, I would run out of flying power and coast on my arms to the ground. The clouds must have served as my fuel. Nate's talked repeatedly of flying dreams- which I had never, until now, experienced. Brook, Joie and Renae were also in the dream and we were discussing real estate -and I was moving into the dorms with Renae. Then I flew away. :)
Thursday, March 6, 2008
So now, I'm back home with a mini tire, waiting for the man to call and tell me that they have a used rim I can pick up to take to the repair men, who will fix it and realign the mess I've made. Thank goodness for mechanics! (And AAA!!!!)
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
My roommate, Kristin, commented on how whenever I'm home, seldom though it is, something seems to be baking. I told her, "Girl, if you leave me home for an afternoon, there will be baking." I guess I'm following closely in the footsteps of my mother. This is a good thing. I do warn Nate that if he keeps hanging out with me, he may gain a few pounds. Although, I do try to be conscious of most of my recipes...adding natural, raw, and whole-wheat ingredients whenever possible. There is something to be said, however, for those good ol' classic recipes that have been handed down from mom to mom, or church lady to other ladies' aid member. Sometimes those are the best recipes- and they don't offer a lot of nutritional value. Something I really appreciate about Nate is that he's OK with that. We're both health-conscious, but don't turn our noses up to a good meal. Sometimes, a plethora of calories is inevitable, and that's just fine by me!
My good buddy, Logan, is headed over for lunch today. We've been friends since our early years in college- and it's time to catch up over some lunch and coffee. This is another reason why days off are so stinkin' great.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
I've been subbing nearly every day.
I'm working 3 or 4 nights a week at the coffee shop- and am being moved to another location which is a bit closer to my house. I think this is a good move, although I am going to miss my downtown location a lot. I have developed some fantastic relationships with customers and co-workers there- it will be sad to leave them.
Nate and I finished our 8-week class at church this past Sunday. We took the Myers-Briggs personality evaluations at the beginning of the course and got them back on Sunday. We have now confirmed what we strongly suspected: we are polar opposites. It was fun to read through our differences and make connections- "oh THAT'S why he does that..."- and the class leader assured the group that although differences bring challenges into relationships, they are also helpful in finding a healthy balance. So- I'm encouraged and not even one bit scared that we're so different. Just makes things more interesting! :)
Here's our results- guess who's who!
Quiet, serious, earn success by thoroughness and dependability. Practical, matter-of-fact, realistic, and responsible. Decide logically what should be done and work toward it steadily, regardless of distractions. Take pleasure in making everything orderly and organized – their work, their home, their life. Value traditions and loyalty.
Warmly enthusiastic and imaginative. See life as full of possibilities. Make connections between events and information very quickly, and confidently proceed based on the patterns they see. Want a lot of affirmation from others, and readily give appreciation and support. Spontaneous and flexible, often rely on their ability to improvise and their verbal fluency.