BACK TO REALITY... Same ole, same ole (Part 165l)

BACK TO REALITY… Same ole, same ole (Part 165l)

In talking with “Woody”,  I’d lost track of time. It was after 6pm when I let her out the back door and I knew Elle would not be happy with me. But, upon arriving home I saw the station wagon was gone. A note on the kitchen counter told me my dinner was in the oven and the she’d be back before dark. There was no mention of where she’d gone so, after eating I called Alan to see when he planned on going to work on the race car motor. He thought we could disassemble what had to be done in about three to four hours so suggested we meet Saturday afternoon. That worked for me as it gave me Saturday morning to get my chores done. I’d just hung up the phone when Elle pulled up at the garage. I could see some boxes in the back and asked what they were. She explained that more donations of clothes had been dropped off at the church. One of the ladies who she’d worked with going through all the stuff in the undercroft earlier in the week called to let her know. She didn’t have room in her car for the boxes and didn’t just want to leave them there overnight. The vestry had decided to wait until the first Saturday in October to re-open the shop but there had been no formal announcement concerning it. She was afraid that some people who’d showed up the previous Saturday would do so again and might just decide to go through the things on their own. I asked her what we were supposed to with the boxes and she just shrugged her shoulders. I needed the station wagon to go to the landfill in the morning which meant unloading them and putting them in the garage like before. As I’d written in an earlier post, I was concerned about how much time this whole venture was taking up. Reluctantly, I started moving the boxes. There was one major difference from the previous ones… these were much smaller and of various sizes. They were also much flimsier.

I’d gotten most of them in the garage and was having Elle stack the few that were left in my arms when she knocked a couple of them off. As soon as they hit the ground the sides split open spilling the contents on the ground. After depositing the ones I still had in my arms into the garage I came back out to help Elle pick up the mess. As I approached I could see what appeared to be baby clothes. Elle seemed excited about it and I didn’t understand why. She explained that when she and the other ladies had been sorting though the things at the church they hadn’t found much in the way of baby and children’s clothes. I smiled (to myself) remembering that Elle had gone though the bags that had been part of the original items that I’d stored and had picked out a group of them to keep. She went on to say that the three of them had decided that it would be a big help if the shop offered baby and children clothes. After picking the things up Elle said she wanted to go through some of the other boxes saying she wanted to see if there were more of the same. I told her she was on her own and that I wanted no part of it.

Stacking the boxes in the garage reminded me that I still had to pick up our two Sunfish sailboats from the sailing club. By leaving them there I thought it would be an incentive to use them on the weekends in September because we usually had decent weather during the month. But, I hadn’t thought the idea through and here we were into the last part of the month and they hadn’t been touched. I was now committed to the race car the next day and, according to my father, the amateur weatherman, we were due for some nasty weather on Sunday. With Elle now ‘attacking’ the boxes I made the decision to go get at least one of the boats. I knew I’d need help and immediately thought of Marty as he owed me a favor and lived less than five minutes from the club.

I know you’re thinking that my thoughts were also on his neighbor’s wash line… and you are right. I called and he’d just gotten home from work. He threw me a ‘curve’ and told me he’d meet me at the club as he had to do some things when we finished up. I remember thinking that “you can’t win them all…” as I headed out. I wasn’t expecting to see Rex, the unofficial watchman for the facility, putting up the Winter storm windows across the front of the club. That usually didn’t happen until after the first of October. As I approached the porch I saw his brother and his brother’s wife also there. I asked about the windows and he, quite disgustedly, said that vandals had broken some of the windows and had “camped out” inside. With rain expected by the next afternoon he thought this was the quickest way to remedy the situation. He was just about done when Marty arrived. With two more people now there, John, Rex’s brother and his wife took off. I looked at Marty and sort of shrugged as we held the last panel up as Rex screwed to the frame. I couldn’t help wondering what was happening to our tranquil little community what with the incident at the house next door to us and now the sailing club. Life around us was sure changing.

It didn’t take long to finish up but I asked Rex if I could have the keys. I had some things stored in the office and figured while I was there I’d grab them and bring them on home. He told me to keep them as he had another set and then headed down the steps. It only took Marty and I about five minutes to load my boat on the trailer. I remember looking at the racks where the boats had been stored and it told the story that Summer was, indeed, over as there were only three boats left. I apologized to Marty for getting him involved. I’d told him it’d only take a few minutes and now it was almost dark. He just smiled and told me to stop by his house some night the next week to see the progress he’d already made on the boat I’d helped him move. As soon as I heard the invitation I was conjuring up a picture of that wash line right next door to him.

I’d left a couple of old life jackets at the club in case someone needed one but wasn’t about to leave them now that people had broken into the building. Rex said he'd made a cursory pass and couldn’t see anything missing, not that there was anything of real value there anyway. After leaving the office I took a look in the bathrooms and checked to see if he’d turned the water off and he had. That was the sign that the club was now closed for the season. Without rest rooms Rex had found it an invitation for trouble. It also meant those of us members who lived locally would have to put together a work party to finish up what he’d started. I spied the lost and found box as I was walking out and figured that since no one would be looking for any of the stuff why not take it home to have Elle wash it. Then, if anything looked decent we could sell it at the church. I pretty much knew she’d give me a hard time about it but on my way home I came up with something to put her in her place if she complained… it was to tell her that since she’d become an 'expert' in used clothing this would be a “final exam” for her. When I walked in the house and told her what I’d done she completely fooled me and said it was a very good idea. Hmmmmmmm…

To be continued…

BACK TO REALITY... Same ole, same ole (Part 165k)

BACK TO REALITY… Same ole, same ole (Part 165k)

Of course, what was primarily on my mind was what the salary committee had approved as a raise for me. There were guidelines for the officers that the salary committee used. The operative word being “guidelines”. There was a set formula for employees based upon the results of their merit reviews. The day following a Board meeting in which salary increases were approved I’d be given the results for the employees and would let the supervisors know the results. The notification for the officers would come from Bert but only just prior to their anniversary dates. Cumbersome, I know, but it was the way it had always been done. As far as changes were concerned I knew it would take time but I was working on it. I knew I wouldn’t have to wait all that long to get my own results as my anniversary date fell in the first pay period after the meeting. But, having to wait at all was still somewhat agonizing.

Knowing that I wasn’t going to be told that day I left right at 5pm. I’d been putting off calling Cliffy as I pretty much knew he’d be pleading for money. He’d been promised money from “Fairlane John” to allow us to go to the upcoming stock car championships in Pennsylvania but that money was for tires. We still had to “freshen” our motor and all we had for money was a promise of some from Dick after his first harvested crop went to market. I’d not promised anything choosing to wait to see what the others came up with but knew with the raise I’d have some to put to the cause. There was still three weeks before we’d be leaving but realistically, time was running out to get the motor work done so I made the call. I expected to take some grief for not even going to the garage to see him and to make some sort of apology for the screw up upon Elle’s and my return from Bermuda. Other than a snide remark along the lines of “It’s about time…” the call went well. He’d already pulled the motor from the car and wanted Alan and I to get it disassembled over the weekend. There wasn’t much I could say not having shown up since returning from vacation. Elle had become used to me being home every night and most of the weekend too so I knew I’d have to do some 'talking' that night.

J J was waiting for me the next morning at work. When I saw him I didn’t know what to expect but I surely didn’t expect him to be cordial. He wanted to apologize for not having spoken to me about “borrowing” Joanie. I was so shocked I didn’t say anything. We were inside and in the lobby when he asked if the new hire would be in that day. I told him she would and I’d send her up as soon as all the necessary paperwork was completed. As he walked up the stairs he turned and apologized again. I can remember standing there in the lobby and wondering what had just happened. Sandra was the woman’s name and, to be truthful, she really wasn’t anything much to look at. But, in talking with her and giving her a warning about J J, I was taken by her sincerity in wanting to do a good job. I had Trish take her up to J J’s office and hoped that his apology to me was just part of a ‘new’ J J.

Speaking of surprises, I certainly wasn’t expecting to see Peggy at my desk the next day. She’d become a very good teller and Lorie had wanted to move her out to the lobby teller line from the drive-up window. I ended up telling her about her history and how insecure she’d been when I’d hired her. I persuaded Lorie to let her remain at the drive-up window and to continue handling the school savings program using the old saying ‘If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’. So, seeing her there I kind of had an idea that something was wrong. It wasn’t for her but it was as far as the bank was concerned. She was giving me notice that she’d be leaving at the end of the ‘busy period’ to get married. In hearing that I realized that it had been quite a while since I’d really paid much attention to her. When she told me who she was marrying it was another shock. For those of you who’ve been following this tome for an extended period of time you might remember back when the bank went to a service bureau to handle the transactions for our savings accounts. The change brought forth some complaints from customers. The local radio station sent one of their on-air reporters over to follow up on it and I spent a fair amount of time with him. I made the mistake of believing him when he said he’d stick to the facts but when he went on the air he expressed his own reaction (negative) to the new system. The bank complained to the station owner and we pulled all our advertising from the station. After a short period of time an agreement was reached between the bank and the station owner and an apology was made over the air for a period of time. I never knew what, if any, sanctions were placed against the reporter but he never set foot in the bank after that. Well, somehow, he and Peggy got together. He was a single dad and she  was a widow with a young daughter and they ‘clicked’. Peggy told me they’d put the wedding off until after the ‘busy period’ because the bank had been so patient with her… and she thanked me specifically. I appreciated hearing it but it did make me uncomfortable. But, the end result was that we now had to hire a new teller. After a whole Summer of with no employee turn-over it had certainly changed.

In talking with Trish I expected she would suggest the woman J J had selected and I’d called to tell her she'd been turned down. However, like so many things that week it was a bit of a shock when she she suggested the young girl who’d walked in right as Trish and I were going over applications to fill J J's secretary's position. Trish wasted no time in ‘selling’ her to me. I’d seen her when she was at Joanie’s desk but had not interviewed her. I remembered that when I saw her application I was surprised at how young she was. I asked Trish why she liked her so much and all she could say was that she’d had a “good feeling” about her. I’d had that happen to me a couple of times when an applicant just walked in so I told her to call her for a formal interview.

I expected to hear that she’d be in on Monday but Trish said she’d be in before 6pm. It was my Friday night to work late and really had nothing planned. When she appeared at the gate I saw a girl who just ‘bubbled’ with excitement. Believe it or not, her name was also Sandra, the same as the woman who was now working up in the mortgage department for J J. When I told her about it she laughed and said she had a nickname that she preferred… Woody. I won’t go into the reason for it but from that moment on she was “Woody” and after a pleasant conversation I had to agree with Trish's appraisal and hired her to replace Peggy. What a week!

To be continued…

BACK TO REALITY... Same ole, same ole (Part 165j)

BACK TO REALITY… Same ole, same ole (Part 165j)

Among other things on my mind was that my three year anniversary with the bank was coming up. The way the salary committee handled salary reviews and subsequent salary increases was to do it on a quarterly basis. At the September full Board meeting anyone with an anniversary date in the following three months would be presented and, hopefully, approved. I was in that group. For raises I was responsible for taking the individual reviews done by an employee’s supervisor and applying a formula to it to come up with a dollar range for an increase. My work was then turned over to the salary committee who, in turn, would present it to the Board for approval. I certainly wasn’t going to do my own and, with my recent run-ins with Jerry, was concerned with what was in store for me. I’d managed to keep myself calm up to this point but with the meeting the next day I couldn’t avoid thinking/worrying about my raise. It was another long long night of tossing and turning.

At work I found that Joanie was “on loan” to J J. Without Lynn who prepared the mortgage applications for the weekly mortgage committee meeting he’d looked to Joanie’s replacement, Bea, to do it. However, for whatever reason, he’d not checked up on her work until just before he left for home Tuesday evening and found she’d totally screwed up. She'd gone for the day so it had to be redone. With the full Board meeting that day it would’ve been a major embarrassment to have the wrong material presented. So, without asking he just called to her downstairs and told her to come up to his office. With J J being an officer Joanie wasn’t about to protest. I think I set a new time record for going up the stairs on my way to his office. He, in title was senior to me, but he didn’t have the authority to pick and chose who he wanted to do different jobs. I arrived to find the door closed but I was PO’d enough to just barge in. Joanie was sitting in the side chair with J J hovering over her pointing to some papers she was holding. I don’t remember exactly what I said but it wasn’t complimentary with the gist of it being that I’d had enough of his BS. He feigned shock but I’d been through this sort of thing with him in the past. I understood the rationale for needing Joanie as she was the only employee there who had any experience preparing the mortgages for the meetings. But his high handed approach really pissed me off. She now had the responsibility for preparing for the monthly Board meeting and all the reports that went with it. I really wasn’t worried because Trish was there to do it but I wasn’t about to let him ‘off the hook’. Wound up, just a bit, I went after him and his choice to replace Lynn telling him that I had serious doubts about her abilities and that I was going “on the record” about it. Recognizing that I had him ‘back on his heels’ a bit ‘went for the jugular’ telling him that since it was only a temporary position I had authority to hire the most experienced person for the job. I don’t remember what he said as I walked out the door but knew he wouldn’t take the attack lightly.

Hobie’s area was right under the stairs and as I reached the bottom he’d just settled in at his desk. He could see I was agitated and I’m sure he expected it had to do with Jerry. I’m sort of laughing as I write this as he was in absolute shock when I told him what J J had done and he realized it had nothing to do with Jerry. I also have to admit that as petty as the whole situation sounds his first question was about the preparations for the materials he needed for the Board. When I told him Trish would have it ready he relaxed. Then he said he’d speak to Bert (the president) about J J... again. It wasn’t the first time and was actually part of a continuing pattern. With that bit of information I headed for Trish’s desk and told her what I’d just told J J. She didn’t believe I’d call the lady who’d been there the previous day to tell her not to report. I told her to just watch me make the call.

My call was quick and I really did feel badly. But, plain and simple, she didn’t have the skills to fill the position. I told her that we’d keep her application on file and promised we’d call when we had a vacancy that didn’t have those specific skills. I expected some push back but there was none. The next call went to the lady with experience. She was so excited she said she could be there within the hour. I laughed and said that the next day would be better. Trish was in shock and as soon as I hung up the phone she was at my desk. I remember her exact words… “You’re unbelievable!”. Then, with a smile, wanted to know what I thought J J’s reaction would be. I was counting on what Hobie had told me that he’d speak to Bert about J J so I told her I didn’t think he’d have much to say. All I could do was hope it went that way.

If there was one good thing about that little skirmish it was that it got my mind off what my review/raise would be. I wasn’t worried that the incident with J J would play any role in it. In truth, I was counting on Gee, the Trustee/attorney, standing up for me. I’d found out that it was Gee who’d put me up for the position on the Personnel Management committee with the banking association. In any case, it was out of my hands and, anyway, I wouldn’t get the word until my actual anniversary date. I hated that policy and was working on getting it changed. It didn’t save the bank any money and just created more work for the accounting department.

Trish got Hobie’s reports and the minutes from the last meeting done in time for the meeting. Joanie struggled a bit with the mortgages because she’d actually only done it a few times when Lynn had been on vacation. I made a point to go upstairs to get her back as soon as the Board meeting started. J J had gone into the meeting to present the mortgages so there was no confrontation. Joanie let me know right away she was very happy to now be working downstairs in the operations area. I couldn’t resist asking her what happened after I left his office. She had a hard time trying not to smile but made the comment that J J was not very happy and told her “I’d pushed his button one time too many” or something like it. When I asked if he’d tried to take his anger out on her she said that he never got a chance as he was called into Bert’s office. That brought out a big smile from me. Hobie had come through and it was a nice feeling to know he had. Now, what was going to be very interesting was J J’s reaction to the lady he’d somewhat disparaged her looks as she reported for work the next day.

Bret had been at the branch (in place of me) so hadn’t been a part of any of the ‘action’. Although Bret didn’t have that much interaction with J J he resented the fact that he lauded his position over both of us. The funny part of that was J J was a constant source of ‘chatter’ in his own department with employees making  comments about the way he carried himself. They resented the fact that he had favorites and somewhat ignored the rest. So, when I told him what had happened he just shook his head and made a comment that the visit to Bert’s office wouldn’t really change anything in the long run. I couldn’t disagree but was happy to have “won” that day.

To be continued…

BACK TO REALITY... Same ole, same ole (Part 165i)

BACK TO REALITY… Same ole, same ole (Part 165i)

Back at the bank I was able to get caught up on J J’s interviews. Two of the applicants had come in and I’d missed them both. Trish told me the one we figured would be J J’s choice couldn’t make it until the next day which was OK by me. That meant I’d get a chance to get another look at her. My perverse nature prevailed and I gave a call to J J to get his ‘take’ on the two he’d interviewed. I was especially interested to hear what he said about the woman with some applicable experience. I was struggling to picture her in my mind but knew that if he were really looking for someone to step into Lynn’s position without having to do a fair amount of training she was the one. I gave a thought to letting Trish listen in but chickened out at the last second promising to tell her exactly what he said.

Up to the time the two women arrived for their interviews nothing had been officially released on Lynn’s situation… just that she had some serious intestinal problems. We all know how rumors get started and the first was that she’d been let go… fired… canned. It’s impossible to stop them once started but because of privacy concerns, Bert, the president, had decided that saying nothing was the best way to handle it. By the time I called J J there was another rumor and it was said she was pregnant. Trish was the one who heard that first and jumped in to try and quash that at the start. However, there had been ‘whispers’ about Lynn and J J for a long time and there was no denying some of the details. Idle or empty minds can create some thoughts that can’t be challenged and it was looking like this was one of those cases. I felt a little sorry for Trish as I knew there was some relationship between Lynn’s and Trish’s families and it was hard for her to listen to the ’noise’.

Getting back to my call to J J, it was obvious he was not impressed with either of the choices, so far. I tried to impress upon him that we were only filling the position on a temporary basis and finding people to work for an unspecified period of time was almost impossible. I specifically asked about the lady with experience and his answer was typical J J… “Did you really take a look at her?”. If I hadn’t expected such a boorish answer I would’ve been shocked. But J J was true to form. I didn’t react negatively but did tell him that if he wanted a person to sit at the desk normally occupied by Lynn, choose one… and hung up. Trish’s reaction was a little more animated but, having watched him for the past few years wasn’t surprised. In the end we fully expected him to pick the woman who was coming in the next day… attractive but with the least experience.

That wasn’t my main thought for that Tuesday. The vestry meeting that evening at the church to review the viability of the new Thrift Shoppe was ‘front and center’. Elle had volunteered to be a part of the group to go through all the clothes in the undercroft of the church but, when I was leaving for work let me know she wasn’t all that thrilled about it. I was committed to making sure that if the decision was to continue with the shop that there were rules of operation with clear cut lines of authority. The lady from the Ladies Auxiliary who had assumed the leadership was not a favorite of mine and I was sure she’d be a problem at the meeting that night. If there was one thing I was looking forward to was the day to be over.

The lady for J J’s third interview was right on time. I’d not been able to see or speak to the other two but I was determined to speak with this one. To be truthful I didn’t know what to say to her but to remind her that the position wasn’t permanent. She appeared to understand and as she headed for the elevator to meet with J J I could see Trish smiling. When about a half hour passed and she hadn’t returned I just knew J J had made up his mind. I chatted with Trish and found she had all the paperwork ready to be completed. It was another reminder that her promotion was warranted. J J accompanied her to the platform and the look on his face was one of having won a contest. But it was so typical of J J that I just sat at my desk and shook my head. Her name was Ellen and it wasn’t until she was with Trish finishing up that she told her that she had to take the bus to work. Not that it was a deterrent to her being hired but it precluded her form any overtime work. Since I often worked late I knew that Lynn, who she’d be replacing, would work late almost each and every Tuesday to prepare the mortgage submissions for the mortgage committee meetings each Wednesday. I had to wonder how J J would react to that piece of information.

At supper that evening Elle reviewed her day and working with the other women at the church. I definitely remember her saying that she took a shower when she got home. Another thing was in her telling me that the project had been “daunting”. What I was most interested in was what was left that people might buy. When I asked she smiled… and said “Not much”… but added there was some “good stuff”. I couldn’t wait to get to the meeting to have a look for myself. Arriving at the church I headed straight for the undercroft. I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. The women had completely rearranged the area. The items they had kept were displayed in a manner that would make them easy to peruse. I was impressed.

We had 100% attendance at the meeting, the first time since I joined the vestry. There was one person missing… the lady who had taken charge of the Thrift Shoppe and had set it up. I took that as a good thing. The minister opened the meeting by saying that she had resigned from the Ladies Auxiliary and would not participate with the program any more. I’ve bored you enough with this thread so won’t go into the details of the meeting. But what was accomplished was the shop would stay in business and that the minister would oversee the operation of it. The three women (including Elle) who’d gone through the clothing  review would continue to be involved. To close the meeting the minister told us that the mother of the woman who had recently died in a car crash was going to donate all her daughter’s clothing to the store once the family closed out her apartment in the city. The consensus was that since she was in her 30’s her clothes would probably be in style. The question was how long it would be before the church would get them. In any case there was a plan for moving forward. I just wondered how much of it would involve Elle and I.

To be continued…

BACK TO REALITY... Same ole, same ole (Part 165h)

BACK TO REALITY… Same ole, same ole (Part 165h)

Back at home I told Elle about the scene at the Thrift Shoppe and the mess that was left behind when the minister closed it down. She disagreed with me for leaving it that way but I held to my position. I felt the only way to turn it around was for more people to actually see what had happened rather than to just hear about it. With the minister calling for a special vestry meeting it was my hope the parishioners would want to know why and could be referred down to the undercroft to see for themselves. I made the comment to Elle that most of the stuff was worthless and should be taken to the landfill. Upon hearing that she sort of changed her ‘tune’ and asked if I wanted to go through the cardboard cartons now stored in the garage. It was an excellent idea.

I don’t want to belabor the point but what we found was almost totally worthless. I think there were six or seven cartons and a number of what I remember my parents called “coat boxes”; long and not very deep. After a bite to eat we set the kids up in the playhouse to keep them busy and started in. Almost all the clothes were pre WWII in style and a lot of them were wool. Having been stored for so long, moths had done a number on them. That included suits, sports jackets, pants and winter coats. There was a fair amount of women’s clothing as well, mostly dark colors and, in the age of Aquarius, totally out of style. Anything that had been at one time white was now yellow. I was ready to haul it all to the landfill after we got through but Elle said she wanted to make a phone call. One of our friends from back in the days when we were part of the 'group' that was trying to get younger candidates elected to the school board was a volunteer for a group started by priests and ministers from the two villages just to the east of us. The group was called CAST (and I can’t remember what it stood for) and they were a forerunner of groups who now help the homeless. Remember, this was back in the 60’s and the term “homeless” hadn’t yet been coined.

Because our area was rural with the main business being farming, the farmers would hire a ‘crew boss’ to find migrant laborers to harvest the crops. The farmer would pay the ‘boss’ who, in turn, would pay the migrants (sometimes). At the end of the season the ‘boss’ would often take the last pay of the season and take off without any thought for the migrants leaving them without anything. CAST was trying to step in and provide clothes and some meals for those left behind. In any case, Elle wanted to get in touch with Phyl to see if she wanted the clothes for CAST before I disposed of them. Surprisingly, even after seeing the condition of most, she took it all off our hands. As far as the lady in charge of the Thrift Shoppe was concerned, I was prepared to tell her it went for a good cause.

I went to both the 8am and 10am services at church on Sunday. The reaction by the parishioners was mixed but did generate some volunteers who were younger than the ladies in the auxiliary to go through all the stuff in the basement. Elle was a volunteer as well and they set a date of Tuesday to cull out stuff that had little likelihood of being purchased. Most of the vestry attended one or other of the services so they had a first hand look at what the problem was. The timing for the volunteer group couldn’t have been better because the vestry was meeting that very night. If the volunteers were even moderately successful the vestry would be able to make a judgement as to the viability of the shop by observing what was left to sell. When we headed home I had no idea where it was all going but it had to be better than what it had been.

Paramount on my mind as I arrived at work Monday morning was certainly not that the bank was going to be examined (audited). All banks are examined by three different entities each year… The Federal government (FDIC); the State Banking Department and also an auditing firm hired by the bank. It was the last of these that was camped out at the back door when I arrived. I had never really accepted the need for this type examination. In my limited experience I discerned that all the firm did was to read the reports generated by the others and then make themselves look busy going over the things the other two had questioned and then regurgitated it. It was redundant and an expense I couldn’t see as necessary. But, who was I to question their existence? What it meant for me was a disruption in being able to service the customers as well as creating havoc in the workplace because I had to find space for them to be able to do their work. Normally, the Board room would be turned over to them for the week they were there. However, this was the week for the full Board meeting and I knew the Board wouldn’t be willing to be displaced.

On my way to work I’d been looking forward to seeing if the three applicants for the temporary position created by Lynn’s leave of absence would be in for interviews with J J. By the time I had all the tellers up and operating (the auditors have to count all the cash before they are allowed to wait on customers) and had found desk space, such as it was, for all of them it was close to 11am. I thought I’d get a ‘breather’ and time for a cup of coffee but there was a problem. The woman in charge of the group (a 40 something) had been unaware that the bank had shifted its depositor accounting to a service bureau. What should’ve happened was for a couple of the people from the audit firm to go to the service bureau before we started processing accounts. Their lady was like the proverbial ‘chicken with his or her head cut off’, not knowing what to do. The situation was exacerbated by the fact that her line supervisor wasn’t available. When she came to me the noon siren had just gone off. She went on to tell me they were leaving. I didn’t know weather to laugh or get mad. The reason I say that is that once the audit ‘team’ gets settled in they usually aren’t that much of a problem. The decision to leave meant I’d be facing their chaos again sometime if the future. Here it was, noon, and I’d not accomplished anything. I remember wondering what else could/would go wrong.

As soon as Bret was back from lunch I took off. Wanting to get my mind off the bank I headed for the brokerage office thinking that Lynda would be a nice diversion. It would’ve been if she’d been there. Stan, my broker, was just on his way to lunch and asked if I wanted to join him. I knew he usually ate right across the street at Michael’s Lounge and they had good lunches. We got caught up a bit before I asked where Lynda was. He seemed surprised by my question so answered it with one of his own… “You didn’t know?”. I didn’t so sat and listened to him tell me that her husband’s Army Reserve unit had been called to active duty and that she was with him as he drove to his duty station out West. Lynda had never said much about her husband other than he worked for his father, a Chevrolet dealer. With my questioning look Stan explained that he’d “been gaming the system” by transferring from one reserve unit to another and that the Army had caught up with him. I couldn’t tell if that made Stan happy or not but he definitely had a bit of a smirk on his lips.

To be continued…

BACK TO REALITY... Same ole, same ole (Part 165g)

BACK TO REALITY… Same ole, same ole (Part 165g)

The three applications that I chose to present to J J were just about as different as could be imagined. One, however, was there as a ‘test’. Of the three she had the most experience but was the least attractive. One of the other two was very attractive and, as far as memory takes me, had the least experience. The last one hadn’t worked in a number of years but had the most mature outlook. When I turned them back to Trish I told her which one I expected J J to choose. All she could do was smile. After Joanie delivered them to him I was surprised it took him so long to get to me. “ASAP’ was his instruction as far as getting them in for him to interview.

My weekend was ‘stacked’ with things to do… the price of being away for a week. One good thing was that I’d cut the grass so that gave me more time for all the rest. I’d talked with the minister about my concerns with the Thrift Shoppe and he asked if I could be there for the opening. I went right to the church after my weekly visit to the landfill and was expecting to see people waiting for the doors to open. There might have been three or four who were by the door to the undercroft (basement). There was a small sign tacked to the door that gave the hours… 9am to 1pm… and that was all. The name of the shop was no where to be seen and there was nothing by the sidewalk or the parking lot to bring any attention to the endeavor. I did notice some more boxes and bags had been stacked in where the trash barrels were located and just shook my head. I opened the door and went down the five steps to the shoppe. I stood at the bottom and saw a number of women (the ladies auxiliary) standing around and tables stacked high with clothing. There were no signs identifying what was on each table. I remember standing there shaking my head. I didn’t see the minister walk up but I heard him when he asked “What do you think?”

I know I didn’t answer right away and I honestly do remember thinking of the words I’d heard Morris, the bank’s consultant, tell me candidly about his original thoughts on the bank’s new branch… ‘close it down and start over…’. It was almost 9am and there was not much that could be done to make it any better so I gave him my best mealy mouthed answer… “We’ll just have to wait and see.” It was a good thing there were so few people waiting. When they walked in I found myself having to move/lift clothes up so they could get to the item(s) that wanted to see. It only took a few minutes before over half the piles were no longer neat and quite a few items were on the floor. By 9:30am there were more people but the room was in chaos. Many of the items had not been priced and some that were were grossly overpriced. By 10:30am the situation was out of control and after talking with me the minister he closed it down. The lady who was in charge complained to him about it and he pretty much ignored her. Then, she just stormed out. I, for one was relieved. As I’d posted before, I thought the Thrift Shoppe idea was getting out of hand and this proved it.

My original intention was to just stop to observe for a short time and then leave. I’d been there for almost two hours by then and the minister called me up to his office to discuss the situation. I won’t bore you with all the machinations and will ‘cut to the quick’. I suggested that a special Vestry meeting be called and that the head of the ladies Auxiliary be there. He wanted to know what to do with the mess in the undercroft and I told him to just leave it. He disagreed but after listening to my reasons, gave in. Before leaving I told him the things that I’d observed that, if the shop was to continue, needed to be addressed. I think it surprised him was that the whole list came right off the top of my head. I’d never wanted to be a part of it and now it looked like I was right in the middle of it.

On Friday night I’d received a call from my new sailing friend, Marty, asking if I could help him with a boat he’d just obtained. Marty was true sailing “nut” and even though the Summer sailing season had ended he was preparing for Winter racing. It was given the name “frostbiting” because, back in those days, wet suits (or dry suits) had not yet been developed and if a boat capsized and you got wet you were subject to being frostbitten. It was usually done in small  dingy boats with the most predominant class being called the Penguin. The Penguin was only 11 feet long and had but one sail. They could fit in the back of a pick up truck and Marty had stumbled across a boat that had been abandoned. The man who owned the property where it was located told him to just come and take it away. Marty had just rebuilt his Comet class sailboat and from what he told me, this was going to be a similar project. He needed me to help get the boat out of the back of the truck and expected to be back to his house around 11;30am. It was only took a few minutes from the church to his house so headed there, even if it meant waiting for him.

Pulling in his driveway there was no way not to see what was hanging on the wash line over in his neighbor’s yard. Nothing special but, since I’d seen the woman, it was exciting to see what she wore for panties. I sat there staring at them for a minute or two before getting out to see if Marty’s wife was home. She wasn’t and there was a note in the door that she’d gone shopping. I went back to stare at the panties and got the idea to make a flying trip home to get the Polaroid camera. The last thing I’d done the night before was to go to the camera store next to the bank to buy a pack of film. On my way back to my house I had to come up with a reason to be there and then to leave  right away for Elle. She was out in the garden so I was able to grab the camera bag and get back to my car without being asked. With her being busy it gave me more time to come up with a believable story when I returned. Now, all I could do was hope that Marty was running late.

Holding my breath as I turned into Marty’s drive I was elated to see he hadn’t made it home. I remember fumbling trying to load the film into the camera. One thing I remember about using that camera was that I’d have to make a few adjustments, depending on the picture, and would sometimes screw up the first one. I was sitting behind the steering wheel when I snapped the picture and as soon as I did I saw a pick up truck pulling in behind me. That meant no time to develop it. Marty apologized for being late and, in truth, I was happy that he was. It only took a few minutes to unload the boat and for him to show me what he had to do to make it raceable. He asked if I’d crew for him during the Winter but I told him I was really warm weather racer. After leaving his house I pulled to the side of the road to see what I’d got for a picture. This is it...

        

To be continued...

BACK TO REALITY... Same ole, same ole (Part 165f)

BACK TO REALITY… Same ole, same ole (Part 165f)

At work, I knew it was only a matter of time before Jerry would be part of a conversation. I’d been avoiding bringing his name up and would’ve liked to have made through that whole week without having to deal with him. As you know, in life we all have to deal with people who ‘march to a different drummer’. What, to me, was the most annoying thing about Jerry was when talking to him he would verbally acknowledge that he understood what you were telling him to do and then he’d go do it his way… and get out of it by saying that he’d misunderstood. While I was away Hobie had Bret get in touch with him to get some activity numbers. When he presented them they weren’t what he was asked for. When Hobie called him out on it he swore he did what Bret had asked for. When I heard about it from Bret I did what I wan’t supposed to do… and that was get on Jerry’s ‘case’. The first thing Jerry did was to call Hobie to complain about me. Naturally Hobie called me over to his area to discuss it. As soon as Hobie started I bolted away and went to get Bret. That didn’t set too well with Hobie but I forewarned Bret what would be happening. I took a little heat but this time I stood my ground and pointedly asked Hobie if he ever asked Bret just what he’d instructed Jerry to do. I don’t think he answered but I then told Bret to repeat, to the best of his ability, what Jerry’s instructions were.

Long story short, Hobie admitted that he should’ve gone to Bret right away when he realized the information wasn’t formatted in the way he wanted. He’d just called Jerry. I remember standing in front of Hobie’s desk sort of pacing. I honestly remember thinking that I should keep my mouth shut… but I didn’t. Even though Hobie had warned me to “lay off” Jerry I just couldn’t take his incompetence. I know it was unfair of me to try to get Bret involved but I did and asked him to give some recent examples of Jerry not following procedures. He was able to get out a few before Hobie stood up and told us to both stop. Even though we were in Hobie’s area which was located under the stairs to the second floor and everything that was said could be heard upstairs, he told us that he agreed, in principle, with us, but Jerry was there to stay… and that we (Bret and I) had but two choices… stay or go. It was very, very clear that he was serious. He, still standing, gave us pretty much the same spiel I’d heard before. I probably took a few deep breaths before I spoke again and it was to ask how we, Bret and I, could operate in such a bizarre workplace landscape. The words from Hobie’s mouth came out like bullets… “Find a way!” Bret was really concerned as we walked back to our desks. All I could do was to apologize to him explaining that Jerry had ‘thrown him under the bus’ on the information request and that I was trying to make sure that Jerry got the blame. I know we stood there talking for a few minutes but about what, I have no idea.

Trish waited until I was seated at my desk before approaching me with a batch of employment applications in her hand. I was in no mood to go over them at that moment but did ask why she had them. I know she had to know that both Bret and I were upset but she sat down in the side chair at my desk anyway. She motioned for me to come closer so she could whisper something to me. As I said, I was in no mood for this sort of thing and told her to speak up. Then, surprisingly, she asked Bret if he could leave his desk for a few minutes. I remember him making some sort of face questioning, without words, why. But get up he did. Trish, in a very quite voice said we had to get a temporary replacement for J J’s secretary, Lynn. Now it was my turn to have a questioning look on my face. Trish didn’t answer my direct question of “Why?” but said it was a temporary thing and laid a few applications she’d picked out in front of me. Reviewing applications, at that point in time, was not what I wanted to do and told her I’d get to them before leaving for the day. She wasn’t happy with that but as she stood up Joanie called to her. I watched as she walked over to the entry gate to the platform and saw a very cute young woman standing there.

Right from the time I got involved with the personnel function at the bank I’d had Trish make sure that everyone who walked in the door looking for a job filled out an application. Then, if I had a bit of free time I’d do a quick interview with that person. The reason… I wanted to put a  ‘code’ on the application for future reference. It was fairly simple… a ‘+’ meant this was someone I’d want to see again. A ‘-‘ meant someone who, if necessary, would be called back for another look. A ‘?’ meant, no way Jose! With time I’d been letting Trish do that preliminary interview. From just looking at this woman I knew I wanted to sneak a peek at her background. Trish ushered her to her desk and I made a point of observing her actions. Actually, it was a good thing as it got my mind off the  ‘beat down’ I’d just taken from Hobie. I made a guess that she was probably around 25 or so and hoped that she had some relevant experience, even if it meant working under the resident “wolf”, J J.

With that thought in mind I grabbed the applications that Trish had given to me and took a quick look at the experience they each had. To fill Lynn’s position, typing was paramount and stenographer’s experience was a plus. None of them had both. Aside from that there was nothing to disqualify any of them as they all had some clerical experience. Looking at the young woman at Trish’s desk again, I liked what I saw. A cute, round face with her brown hair cut to just above her shoulders. In spite of mini skirts that were much in vogue hers was just above her knees. Sitting there I noticed she seemed a bit nervous. She was sitting forward in the side chair and would occasionally ouch forward a little more and then would slide back. When she relaxed and went back she would open her knees up a bit… enough for my heart to flutter a bit… but not enough to see anything. At this point I had to have the patience to wait to look at the application and to talk with Trish.

The first thing Trish said was “definitely NOT for J J…”. I hadn’t even seen the application but I knew what she meant. She and Joanie had had many conversations about her time working under J J and Joanie told her she was “thankful” she’d been “rescued” from the mortgage department. When Trish had shared that information with me it made me feel really good. But, now I wanted to see what experience was on the application. The shock was in seeing that she was only 20 and her experience was minimal. Trish did say that she wished we had something for her as she had a really nice personality and was willing to try just about anything. After our chat it was time to take a close look at the original applications. By that time my ‘dust up’ with Hobie had faded and I was fully back to work.

To be continued…

BACK TO REALITY... Same ole, same ole (Part 165e)

BACK TO REALITY… Same ole, same ole (Part 165e)

The morning couldn’t come fast enough. Neither of us slept very much but if there was one good thing it was that Elle was dry when we got up. The first thing I did was to go outside and slip through the opening in the hedge to see if anyone was there to change the locks in the neighboring house. I was relieved to see a familiar face working on the back (kitchen) door. Jonesey was a familiar face around town as a handy-man carpenter. I’d used him a time or two myself. I chatted with him for a minute or two, more or less catching up with him before he asked if I knew why Andy wanted the locks changed. I asked him if he’d been inside and he said he hadn’t. He’d picked the key up at Andy’s office but he wasn’t there to explain. I told him of what I’d seen and how concerned I was about it and how strange it was that there was no signs of a break-in. I was pleased he was there and went back to tell Elle. However, that didn’t satisfy Elle who explained that just the fact that strangers had been in the house had her “uneasy”. I felt the same but didn’t let Elle know and tried to convince her that since it hadn’t been a break-in and that the locks were being changed we would be safe. I had to get to work and reinforced the idea that under no circumstances would whoever it had been would return in daylight.

The only reason I could think of for not remembering that our neighbor to the West, John the farmer, had a brother on the police force. I was at the end of the driveway when it came to me. He lived just down the road and I decided to take a chance and stopped at his house. He wasn’t home as he’d just left for his shift but after explaining why I wanted to see him his wife said she’d have him call me at work. That was reassuring as I hoped he’d be able to keep me posted on what the police would find in their investigation. Ed was his name and he was really was reassuring when he talked with me. He had two kids of his own and fully understood how Elle and I felt. Of course he had no idea of what had transpired as he’d just arrived at the station.We left it that if (and when) he got any information he’d call. I called Elle to tell her and it was the first time since the situation arose that I could her some relief in her voice.

It was hard getting really into things at work. I have no idea what, if anything, I did all day. For sure, I was anxious to get home. I hadn’t heard from Ed which made the day seem even longer. Not wanting to be a pest I decided not to stop at Ed’s house on my way home. He’d told me he’d call when he had anything of interest so when I drove up the driveway to see a patrol car parked in front of the garage I was surprised. He’d just arrived and Elle was on the way out the kitchen door as I stopped my car. He was still behind the steering wheel and writing when I got to his window. He looked up at me and with a smile said they had identified two men who’d been in the house. The reason for the smile was that the men were migrant farm workers who had worked for his brother on the farm that surrounded both my house and the neighboring house and he actually was familiar with them. That was all well and good but what I wanted to know was how did they get into the house. That was information that he didn’t have but he assured both Elle and I that we didn’t have to worry about them. Elle and I both thanked Ed and as he headed down the driveway I still couldn’t believe that I’d not thought of him the night before.

For some reason I felt like celebrating. However, it was too late to get a baby sitter and Elle had supper almost ready to serve. When we finished I suggested we all go the the local Dairy Queen. It had been quite a while since we’d been there and, in a small way, it served as a celebration. Being that it was now the middle of September, there was a definite briskness in the air as the sun went down. One of the treats for me in going to DQ had been to observe the girls who’d worked there during the Summer. The uniforms included short skirts and on a few occasions I’d managed to get a peek. But, the only female on duty this evening was the wife of the owner. She was a good looking woman, a few years older than Elle and I, but she wasn’t into short skirts. I’d known her husband from when I was a teen when he worked at the marina located in the creek where “Big B” kept his boat. I wasn’t into soft ice cream so filled the time talking with him. I’d not planned it but where I ended up standing gave me an observation point where I could see his wife replenishing various components. To do it, she would squat down to pull boxes from under the counter and rather than stand up to pick them up, would stay on her haunches and tried to kick them to the desired location. Leave it at this… I ended up with multiple split second peeks. Elle and the kids got ice cream and I got something even better.

It was Andy, the real estate agent, who called me at work with the answer as to how the migrants had gotten into the house. I’d asked him if he’d shown the house and he told me that he hadn’t but that a newly hired assistant had. It turned out that the last time he’d been there he lost the set of keys he had but hadn’t told Andy. He took the second set of keys and had another set made up. When Andy told him about someone being in the house he confessed about losing the keys and told him he might’ve lost them while showing the house but swore that he’d locked the door. In telling me this Andy told me he was making the guy pay for the new locks. I think my thoughts at the time was that he should’ve been fired.

There were still two unanswered questions… where did the men find the keys and why were they in the house at all. To put this thread to bed I’ll jump ahead to the following weekend. It was Ed who had the answers and he stopped by the house to tell me. His brother (John, the farmer) would hire a group of migrant farm workers to harvest his potato crop each Fall. He provided them with a bunk house complete with a kitchen. But, he had one major rule… no drinking in the bunk house. These two ignored it and ended up getting fired. They got paid for the time they’d worked and they promptly went out and spent it all on wine. Our house and the neighbor’s house was located right across the farm field from the bunk house so, on that night it had rained and they walked across the field trying to find a place to sleep. They claimed they tried the doors and found the keys on the porch. They actually had slept in the house a number of nights. The only thing the police could put on them was trespassing. Ed told me that his brother bought the men train tickets and made sure they got on the train. That was the best news and it was what Elle wanted to hear. It certainly was an interesting period of time for us.

To be continued…

BACK TO REALITY... Same ole, same ole (Part 165d)

BACK TO REALITY… Same ole same ole (Part 165d)

I hadn’t been to the city since I’d gone in to meet with Morris the first time. I had to be at the association headquarters by 9:30am and taking public transportation made it ‘dicey’. I wanted to make a good impression by not being late so asked if I could go in the night before and stay in a hotel. I got a quizzical look when I asked but Hobie agreed that for the first meeting I should be there well before it started. That meant bringing my clothes for the Thursday meeting with me to work on Wednesday. It was somewhat of a pain but I managed. The hotel I chose was within walking distance of the headquarters so in the morning of the meeting I was there in plenty of time. I was more than pleased to see a familiar face in front of the coffee urn. It was the woman who’d helped me set up my hospitalization records when I’d first started at the bank. Stunning red hair and a statuesque figure, she stood out in a crowd. I chatted with her for a few minutes and before I knew it there were at least a dozen others there. Most of them called her “Red”. It was obvious she had a way about her that made her a favorite to work with. By the time the meeting was convened I’d touched base with a few others I’d had dealings with at the same time I’d met Red. It made the situation a bit more comfortable.

The make-up of the committee of sixteen was almost all male with only two women listed as members. Only one of the two was there, an attractive but very businesslike 40 something lady who wanted to be called by her given name, Patricia. She was an officer in one of the big city banks. At the first break she made an effort to meet men which was appreciated. After a casual chat over coffee she handed me her card and told me to give her a call if I needed some direction as to how the committee operated. She looked around as she told me not to be intimidated by some of what I might hear during the rest of the meeting. I was impressed that she’d singled me out with those words of warning. At lunch I was able to connect with some other members who represented banks similar in size to my bank. As they say, ‘safety in numbers’. We exchanged business cards and by the time the meeting reconvened I was feeling a bit more comfortable. All the members were given a draft of the new “Mission Statement” and told to look it over and forward comments to the Chairman by the end of the month. We were also given a list of topics that the committee would be addressing over the next few months and told to be prepared to be called on for comments. I’m smiling as I write this because I remember walking out of the room and thinking I was back in school and had homework. All in all I was looking forward to being a part of the group but, in looking at the material I’d been given, wondered how I’d fit it in with all I had to do at the bank. On the train I got to look over the schedule and saw that the committee met monthly and two of the meetings were not in the city but were held in smaller cities. I liked the idea where I’d get to go different places.  Another thought I had was that this was the second trip to the city that I’d made and not had the time to stop at either Macys or Gimbels to peruse the lingerie department. But, now the committee assignment with monthly meetings meant I’d soon be able to get there.

Upon arriving home I found Elle was quite upset. The police had stopped in that day to ask if she’d seen any unusual activity at the house next door. She told me she asked why they wanted to know but didn’t get an answer. That bothered her. Even before changing my clothes or eating I called Andy, the young real estate agent who had the house listed, to see if he knew anything. Since his sign was out front my thought process led me to believe they’d checked with him. He knew nothing about it and, not surprisingly, was concerned. He said he’d come right out and I asked if I could go with him. I still don’t know why I did but he arrived about ten minutes later and the two of us walked around the house. Because of the previous incident where a window had been left open we checked all the windows. Once inside we were both shocked. It was obvious that there had been people inside. There were food wrappers on the kitchen floor and empty wine bottles in the sink. When we checked the bathroom it was a disgusting mess. There was puke on the sink and toilet and a pair of soiled men’s briefs in the toilet. Andy was very upset and, since we came in trough the kitchen door (which was locked) he went to the from door and found it was also locked. I still couldn’t get it out of my mind that the police wouldn’t ell Elle why they were investigating the house. I invited Andy to come over so he could call them to get a definitive answer and to also report the obvious trespass.

Walking through the opening in the hedge to get to my house I asked if he’d shown the house recently. He said he hadn’t but he’d recently hired an assistant and he’d shown it a couple of times. To make conversation I asked if he’d gotten any feedback. I remember him laughing when he said at the price it was being offered at it would never sell. The only thing he was able to get from the police on the call was that they’d send a car out to take a report. I was sorry I’d not been able to let Elle know about the call. In listening to Andy talking with the police I could see she was getting more upset. She called me outside to ask what we’d found in the house. I couldn’t lie and when I told her it was obvious there had been people inside she grabbed my arm and said she was scared. I didn’t know what to do except to say we’d have to wait for the Police.

When the patrol car arrived I wasn’t allowed to go with the patrolman and Andy as they went back to the house which was upsetting to me. The one good thing was that the  patrol car had pulled up my driveway which, in my mind, gave me a chance to ask what we (Elle and I) should do to be safe. When he returned he gave me no real encouragement but did say that there was no sign of a break in and that, in all probability, whoever it was had a key and that Andy was in the process of getting someone to change the locks. Unfortunately, Andy had parked his car over at the house and I didn’t get to see him. As you can imagine the whole situation left Elle and I quite concerned. I tried to ‘camp out’ to see if Andy or whoever he was getting to change the locks returned but to no avail. I wasn’t happy about it but tried to take a pragmatic approach in thinking that whoever had done it knew the police were now involved and wouldn’t be back. However, Elle wasn’t buying it. It made for a long, long night.

To be continued…

BACK TO REALITY... Same ole, same ole (Part 165c)

BACK TO REALITY… Same ole, same ole (Part 165c)

The next morning I made a point of getting up early as I wanted to get to the church to clean up the stuff that I hadn’t brought home the night before. Elle wanted me to check to see if the traps I'd bought for the basement had caught anything. Since I'd not put any any bait in them I knew the answer. I made cursory trip down the stairs to appease her. She was not happy with my answer as I headed for the church.

I remember shaking my head at some of the stuff that had been left there. I really wondered what was in the minds of some of those people who thought they were helping. The landfill opened at 7am and I was there soon afterwards. On returning home I had time to reflect on the situation. The reason the lady had called me was the funeral for the woman who’d died in the car crash was the next day. All the bags, boxes and junk were not what would be expected by the mourners who would be attending. I’d written that her family attended our church. I knew the father but not that well. He, when attending, went to the 10am service and I, if possible, went to the 8am service. I’d only seen the mother a few times and had never formally met her. Elle was still in grade school when the deceased woman graduated so we had no intention of going to the service. However, I wanted to respect the family and getting rid of the junk and storing the rest was the best way for me (us) to do it.

A little late for work, it really didn’t matter. I’ve written that August had the least lobby traffic and September was close behind. It was perfect timing for the changes we’d made, (Joanie to receptionist and Trish to administrative assistant) giving them time to learn their new jobs. The slack time gave me an opportunity to make decisions as to how to advertise during the upcoming ‘busy period’. I hadn’t bought into the suggestion made by Morris to give up advertising anything specifically for the branch. Speaking of the branch, this was my second day back and I’d not heard a word about Jerry. I didn’t dare jinx it by bringing his name up. I was working on which media to use when Joanie rang me up on the phone to tell me Bert (the president) was on the phone. That was highly unusual. Normally I’d get a call from his secretary. But, in this case it really was Bert. I knew him well enough to know that he was all business when he said for me to report to the Board room. I chose to go up the back stairs which gave me a few seconds to reflect on what the reason was for the call.

Arriving at the top of the stairs and walking in to the vestibule I saw the door to the room was closed. The only time I’d ever seen it closed was when there was a meeting taking place. I hesitated before knocking and then heard the words “Come in…” Bert was at the head of the table and to his right was Gee, the Trustee/attorney and Hobie. Seeing Gee there made the situation a bit confusing. I was directed to take a set to Bert’s left. (OK… without giving you a lot of background as to how the banking association we belonged to worked… 128 like type banks belonged but it was controlled by the big city banks…  during the Summer many of the smaller banks had gotten together and threatened to split away if they didn’t get more of a voice in the running of the association… and it worked. As of September 3rd, a whole new administrative structure took effect and, for the first time smaller and mid sized banks were given a voice. That was why I was there.) Again, not wanting to bore you, they wanted me to serve on one of the standing committees… the Committee on Personnel Management (now called Human Resources). Actually, I didn’t have a choice. I was surprised, for sure. I had no idea who  was involved in making the decision but knew I had a somewhat contentious relationship with a few Board members (Polack Joe, for one). They could give me no information as to what was involved but closed our meeting by saying I was to go to the city on Thursday for the first meeting of the committee under the new structure. The three of them shook my hand and told me they expected that I’d do a good job in representing the bank. I had no idea as to what was ahead for me.

I was able to get to the County Agriculture Department before it closed and was told the furry critter I'd seen was more than likely a chipmunk. The best bait for them was plain, unsalted nuts. But, they also warned me that if there was one there were probably more. They said to find out where they were getting an entry because until it was sealed they would continue to plague us.

When we bought the house I found squirrels had gotten into the walls through a small opening over the casement windows in the basement. I sealed them all up but when I got home I checked them all again. When the house was built it was heated with coal and the one area that I'd not checked was where the coal was stored. There was no light in that area but with a flashlight I found that when the owner had converted to oil he'd put a wood panel in the coal shute opening to close it off. Shutting off the flashlight I could see daylight in one corner at the bottom. That was an easy fix so now it was on to the catching part. I loaded all the traps with walnut halves and, feeling confident headed for the stairs.

Since there was still a couple of piles of laundry still to be washed I spent most of the evening running up and down to the basement getting it done. Elle was very particular in what clothes did and didn't go into the dryer I also ended up putting up a temporary wash line down there. I'd just finished hanging the last of the first load when i heard a sharp SNAP. One of the traps had been tripped. That was a good sign. However, what weighed on my mind was what the agent at the Ag department had told me... if you've got one you know there are more. A quick search showed the trap I'd place in what had been the coal bin had one of the critters. Picking the trap up I have to admit I felt somewhat guilty. It was really cute. With the kids still up I had to hide it as I took it outside to the garbage pail. Elle wanted to know what I was doing so I held the trap up to show her. I thought I'd done a good deed but the look on her face was one of dismay. She was actually unhappy when she saw the little furry thing dangling from the trap.

It turned out that by the time I'd finished doing her wash that another trap had tripped. This time I decided to wait to get rid of the critter. I reset the first trap and headed for bed. I figured that if the traps didn't go off by morning that I'd got them all and could convince Elle of that fact... and maybe get some forgiveness for my "heartless deed". It didn't work out that way. In the morning when I found the traps untripped I told her her the basement was back to normal and she was 'safe' down there she was still upset that I'd killed the chipmunk(s) and told me that she thought that I could've gotten them out without having to kill. With a female it's hard to be a winner... 

To be continued...  

BACK TO REALITY... Same ole, same ole (Part 165b)

BACK TO REALITY… Same ole, same ole (Part 165b)

As always, one benefit of going to the stock brokers office was a chance to see Lynda. There was always the chance to get a panty peek but, aside form that I liked her positive personality. However, I should’ve called to see if she was there. Walking in to the office it was like a morgue. Ruthe was there but only a couple of the lower lever brokers were in sight. I knew Ruthe could give me the information I wanted but I’d get it without the banter and smile that Lynda provided. It was obvious she was busy but did make an effort to see what I wanted. Being new to stock trading I was a little apprehensive after buying a new stock. I’d only seen a stateside newspaper on one afternoon and had been unable to locate the detail on my stock. Ruthe pulled it up for me and I was pleasantly surprised that it had gained a few points in the week that I’d been in Bermuda. I was about to leave when she asked what I thought of Stan’s (my broker) house as she knew I'd been invited to his party. It was refreshing to she her relax a bit. As I’ve posted before, hidden below the modest way she chose to present herself, she really was nice and somewhat attractive. Stan had told me she’d been married to a real prick who’d brutally beaten her. Her view of the male population was definitely skewed by her experience. However, over the past few times I’d seen her there had been a definite improvement, at least towards me.

There was plenty to do at work but I chose to head home at 5pm. The lawn hadn’t been cut in over a week and even though it was now September it was still Summer and the grass kept right on growing. There was also the specter of Elle wanting me to make sure the rodent(s) were out of the basement. I stopped at the hardware store to get a couple of traps that I hoped would appease Elle. On that subject, Elle greeted me with a job to do for her and that was to put a load of wash in for her before supper. I’d run the one load before leaving for work which took care of the kid’s underwear but there were four piles of laundry waiting on the kitchen floor. One was a combination of both her underwear and mine. She always washed them separately from everything else. I chose that pile and, with the traps and bait, headed for the cellar. My hope was that whatever was down there would be mice. I was almost to the bottom step when I saw something flash past me. It was too small for a squirrel and I’d never seen a mouse (or rat) with a furry tail. Now that I’d actually seen something in the cellar I had a ’target’. The only thing was since I didn’t know what the critter was I didn’t know what to use for bait. I got the wash started and went upstairs to eat. To appease Elle’s questions I just told her I’d set out the traps but didn’t tell her that I’d not put any bait in them. However, she said she wasn’t gong down to the cellar until I could prove I’d caught whatever it was that was down there.

The grass was really high and it was a struggle getting it done. I was looking for a reason to take a break and Elle gave me one. She came out to tell me there was a phone call from the lady in charge of the church’s new Thrift Shoppe. I’d help set it up the Saturday before we left on vacation and had a strong feeling there would be problems. The women’s auxiliary had solicited donations to stock the shop before the opening which was scheduled for the upcoming Saturday. Her problem? Too much stuff… and she didn’t know what to do with it. She wanted me to come up with a place to store the “extras”. My first reaction was to tell her I had no ideas for her but, since I hadn’t yet brought the Sunfish home from the sailing club… So, with the lawn not finished I headed for the church.

When I pulled in the church parking lot I could see a LOT of stuff piled in front of the door to the undercroft (basement). To me, it looked like a lot of plain old junk/trash… but I was not there to judge. I had a key and when I went inside I couldn’t believe my eyes. To get them started I'd set up six tables and two mobile hanging racks. Now, there were so many clothes piled on each of the tables that I wondered how anybody would be able to find anything. While looking the place over, the lady who’d called me showed up. I had to ask where it had all come from. I remember her making a face and after hesitating for a few seconds admitted that she wasn’t sure there would be enough things for the opening and that she’d run an advertisement in the weekly paper asking for donations. And they came… and kept coming. I motioned to the pile of stuff outside the door and said that it appeared that people had dropped their junk off at the church rather than drive it to the landfill. She didn’t appreciate my comment and, pointedly, asked if I would store it until the ladies could go through it. I debated with myself for a short time before giving her a qualified answer. Since the original idea was for the shoppe to sell used clothing I told her I’d store clothes that were boxed but not all the other “crap” and pointed to an obviously damaged kids bike and some dented pots and pans. Her sour facial look returned but then agreed. To ease the tenseness the situation I offered to take the rejected things to the landfill. It would mean getting up really early and getting the stuff to the landfill before leaving for work. I really didn’t want to but it was for the benefit of the church. As I loaded boxes and bags of clothes into the station wagon she started talking about the woman who’d been killed in the recent car crash. She made it clear how sad it was that she’d committed suicide. As I wrote earlier I didn’t know the woman but it bothered me that this lady was so positive that she’d deliberately crashed her car. Her ‘know it all attitude’ bothered me and I wanted to get away from her so I said that I’d only be able to store them for a few weeks as I’d need the space by October. Without waiting for her response I got in and drove away. In looking back on the situation I should’ve been a little less harsh but she really annoyed me.

At home Elle saw me unloading all the stuff and expressed surprised that I’d agreed to do it. In reality, I was too and by the time I’d gotten it all in the garage was mad at myself. Elle, always curious, started peering into some of the bags. I told her not to get involved but that didn’t stop her. I wasn’t going to argue as I still had to finish the lawn and it was starting to get dark. By the time I finished Elle had gone through all the bags and had a pile of things she’d picked out, exactly what I didn’t want to see. When I started to comment on it she said she’d take it to the Thrift Shoppe on Saturday and pay for it with her own money. The whole Thrift Shoppe matter was quickly getting out of hand.

Elle reminded me that there was a finished load of wash down in the basement. I'd already forgotten about it and the rodent problem as well. The light for the basement was on the hall wall and I flipped it on and opened the door. Looking down the stairs I saw the furry little critter and it came to me just what it was... a chipmunk. Chipmunks are, at worst, pests but nothing to be afraid of. What I didn't know was to use as bait to catch them. Pulling the laundry out of the machine I decided a trip to the County Agriculture Department at lunch was in order.

To be continued…

BACK TO REALITY... Same ole, same ole (Part 165a)

BACK TO REALITY… Same ole, same ole (Part 165a)

Of course the first thing Elle wanted to do upon arrival home was see the kids but two were in school. Because we wanted to get unpacked, to save time, she called her mother to have her bring Kaye over. Sometimes her mother could be ‘difficult’ but this was not one of those times. When she arrived she brought most of what would end up being our dinner. There was no food in the house at all and Elle was already exhausted from the plane ride and then being up until 2am so this was a welcome treat. Kaye was glad to see Elle but all she wanted to talk about was the fun things she did with her grandmother. I ended up going to the market to get orange juice, milk and bread for breakfast the next morning. We’d had the mail held for us so I stopped to pick it up. As the post office was the center for gossip, got all the latest. Some was just that… pure gossip, but there was one piece of troubling news. The daughter of one of the parishioners in our church was killed in an auto accident. She no longer lived with her parents but had come home for a visit. The gossip part of that was there was some speculation that she’d committed suicide by driving into the railroad bridge abutment. Regardless, it was sobering news.

We’d brought some gifts for the kids which kept them occupied while I told Elle about the death. With that as a backdrop our evening was kind of muted. Elle went to bed early while I went through the mail and started thinking about work and what lay ahead for me in the morning. To prove I was tired I ended up falling asleep while seated at my desk in the den. My intention had been to get an early start to work but, as they say, best laid plans oft times go astray. Elle wanted to get started on the wash so as soon as the alarm went off she headed for the basement and the washing machine. Even though I was on the second floor and she was in the basement I could hear her scream like she was right outside the bedroom door. I ran down the stairs and when I was halfway down the cellar stairs could see what the problem was. A squirrel (or other rodent) had gotten in and had been chewing on things and made a mess. Elle’s concern wasn’t the mess but that they might still be in the basement. She wanted me to make sure they were out before she’d go back to the cellar. I knew there was no way for me to guarantee that and I told her so. BUT… and it was big but, she said she had to get some laundry done. Her mother's washing machine, an old wringer type, had died and she'd not done any of the kids clothes all week. The immediate need was for clean underwear for the kids. So, I ended up doing a load before I left for work. By the time I got there it was just about 9am and already behind for the day.

It took about 30 seconds for Bret to let me know there had been another special Board meeting while I was gone. I’d been at the bank long enough to know that wasn’t a good thing. He couldn’t fill me in on details but it had me on edge until I could connect with Hobie. I’d never gotten a full update on the last special Board meeting held right before I went on vacation. It was one where Morris, the guy who’d provided the gift/premiums for the new account campaign for the opening of the new branch, had made his ‘report’ on what had gone wrong with that branch opening. I had a feeling that the two meetings were connected. I didn’t have to pester Hobie to find out as he soon called me over to his area. Without saying a word he pointed to the stairs right above his head. Anything said at his desk could be heard by the switchboard operator so he wanted us to head for the Board room. More intrigue.

He didn’t waste time and went right to the heart of the matter. In his initial report to the Board, Morris had pretty much trashed the new branch and the Board's decision to locate it where they did. He told them it would take probably five to six years for it to break even and told them to cut costs any way they could… including advertising. That didn’t make sense to me and I expressed it to Hobie. The problem for advertising was there was no media that targeted the branch area and the money spent would be wasted. Direct mail for any specific program we might run would be appropriate and cost effective. BUT, that wasn’t the main item for discussion. He’d proposed another branch. Hobie explained that it had been so controversial at the first meeting when he did that the Board authorized Morris to come up with a detailed plan and scheduled the meeting the previous week was to go over it. The end result was he was authorized to begin a search for locations. As you can imagine, this news hit like a ton of bricks. My first thought (negative) was they were crazy to do it and so quickly after the failure of the first one. However, I wasn’t asked my opinion so kept my mouth shut. Our meeting ended with him telling me to keep it quiet and that Morris would be back for the next regularly scheduled Board meeting… a week and a half away.

I caught up with Trish and Joanie and got a ‘glowing’ report on Joanie’s progress on learning her new job. I checked it out with Bret and he agreed. Joanie was a quick learner and would only get better with more time in the position. There had been no problems with the on-line service with the data center and staffing had remained stable. It appeared the only thing of import had been the visit by Morris. I was tempted to give him a call but decided against it. He’d gone out on a limb to tell me what his initial report contained before giving it to the Board and I wanted to keep whatever ‘goodwill’ I had with him in case something that directly affected me came up.

By the time I’d gone over the week's worth of mail that had been left for me it was time for lunch. There were two things that needed to be done… contact Cliffy about the situation at the airport the night before and… go over to the stock brokers office to see how my stocks were doing. I dreaded the call to Cliffy. I just knew he was going to be upset. I’d known him for so long I pretty much knew how he reacted when things didn’t go the way they were planned. It turned out that my father had called him first thing in the morning so he had the details. I could tell he wasn’t all that happy but, instead of getting mad at me (as I expected he would) all he had to say was that I could find someone else to be “a taxi’ the next time I was going to the airport. I accepted that and then asked how closing night at the race track had gone.

For Cliffy, no matter what the results were it could always have been better. He’d finished 3rd and was still upset that he hadn’t won. He didn’t go into detail and I knew I’d get the detailed information from Alan the next time I went to the garage to work on the car. I had so much to do at home to get caught up having been away for a week I didn’t ask when the crew was going to meet again. I knew we had one month to prepare for the National Championship and hoped there would be some free time over the next couple of weeks before we started to prepare for it.

To be continued…

A CHANGE OF PACE... Bermuda (Part 164p)

A CHANGE OF PACE… Bermuda (Part 164p)

The stewardesses hadn’t served everybody (who was interested) when the first signs of buffeting occurred. The pilot came over the speakers telling them to secure the food carts and warned all passengers not to leave their seats. At that time we’d only been in the air for a fairly short time and my guesstimate was we had well over an hour to go. My thought was if it was this rough so early in the trip what was it going to be like the rest of the way. About the same time the pilot came on again and said he was going to try and fly around the turbulence. It wasn’t long after that I could hear some people using barf bags. I knew Elle would too, sooner of later. Even with the pilot’s evasive maneuver the buffeting got worse. I, myself, wasn’t worried about anything other than Elle… until I felt the plane go into a free-fall. I have no idea how far or for how long it lasted… but it was enough to upset me. When the plane got level again I watched Elle reach for her barf bag. Not a pleasant sight.

We got tossed about like popcorn in the popper. There were women crying and across the aisle from me I saw a man with his eyes closed and hands and fingers together as if he were praying. The next announcement from the pilot did not bring forth good news. I’d mentioned the reason for our delay in leaving Bermuda had been the heavy plane traffic of planes waiting to land at our destination. In spite of waiting to avoid the congestion it turned out that the storm had created even more. The pilot’s words were few… that we were 16th (I think) in the queue. That made me look at my watch. I distinctly remember what it read… almost 11pm. We’d gotten in line to board the plane at 7:30pm and now it was 3 1/2 hours later. I immediately looked at Elle and knew… There was nothing I could do about her problem so began wondering just what we were going to do about getting home.

During the wait to board at the terminal I’d managed to get a call through to my father and explained what was happening from our end. We both recognized there was little to no chance for him to get back to me but said he’d try to get in touch with Cliffy. We left it that I’d call him as soon as we landed. Sitting there in the plane all I could visualize was being stuck at the airport in the middle of the night. What had been a very positive experience was dissipating by the minute. One thought I had was that my aunt and uncle lived not too far from the airport so that was a possibility. However, my uncle didn’t drive and my aunt wouldn’t drive at night. If that was going to be our ‘out’ it would mean taking a taxi and we’d gone through most of our cash. The more I thought about the situation the worse it seemed to get.

We landed just before midnight. Elle had managed to fall asleep for most of the time we were flying around in circles above the airport. It was still ‘bumpy’ and the pilot kept reinforcing the need to stay in our seats. Talking about ‘bumpy’, the landing sure was. It was enough to elicit some female cries. I’d not been troubled with the turbulence but the sudden ‘smack down’ on the runway had my heart really beating. When Elle’s grogginess wore off the realization of her predicament hit her. The only thing I could offer was to remain seated until all the others had deplaned. That wasn’t her concern. The fact that she’d be walking around in the terminal with the back of her skirt exhibiting her wetness was. I told her I’d walk behind her as close as I could but that was about it. I reminded her of our real problem… how to get home… and that took her mind off her wet backside for a few minutes.

Thankfully, at midnight there weren’t a lot of of people there and after a short wait got to a phone. While waiting I noticed a woman sitting on a bench right across from the bank of pay phones and looking very nervous. My father was waiting for the call and had contacted my aunt and uncle. They would be looking for a phone call and would put us up for the rest of the night. The handyman that worked for my father would pick us up in the morning so he’d taken care of almost everything… except Cliffy. I couldn’t worry about that right then and proceeded to call my uncle. It was while talking with him I noticed the woman get up and as she reached down to pick up her suitcase I saw the back of her skirt was obviously stained… but was a different color than Elle’s. I felt sorry for her and thought about pointing her out to Elle… but didn’t. Seeing her was a reminder of the rough trip we'd all just experienced. In the conversation with my uncle I told him we didn’t have money for the cab ride and he said he’d take care of it. With that out of the way it was time to reclaim our baggage. Once we located it Elle was on me to find clean dry clothes for her.

For our trip to Bermuda I’d neatly organized all our things for packing. For the trip back it was more like stuff it in. Almost everything had to be washed so it didn’t really matter how it went back in so for me to find what she’d specifically asked for would be almost impossible. Right there on the baggage area floor with people all around I opened the big suitcase and rooted around finally finding a pair of white slacks. As for panties, the only place I knew specifically where some were located was in the little carry case. When I told her that she wrinkled up her face in disapproval but I went ahead and opened it up. They were all very damp. When she rejected that idea I told her to just not wear any at all. The look on her face never changed. I watched as she headed for the rest room with the slacks and got a little ‘excited’ about the prospect of her, in public, without panties. When she returned she handed me the now just damp skirt to put in the carry bag. I made a point of checking to see if she had dared to go bare but couldn’t find panties. She’d stayed true to her past and decided she’d rather wear the panties she had on rather than go without any.

By the time we got arrived at my aunt and uncle’s place it was almost 2am. I was exhausted. Elle didn’t want to tell my aunt about her incontinence. We had the plastic panties from the previous night in the carry bag so she just stuffed a washcloth in them as she climbed into my cousin’s bed (she no longer lived at home) while I ended up on the living room sofa. My uncle worked in the city and would leave the house sometime around 6am. I heard him and then went to check on Elle. Not having had anything much to drink since around 6pm she was dry. My father's handyman arrived around 10 am and we arrived home in the early afternoon. I’d called in to the bank earlier but now decided I wouldn’t bother to go in. Whatever had happened while I was gone could wait until the next morning to be explained. As we unpacked I had a hard time getting used to being home again but, in spite of the plane trip, it had been a wonderful time.

To be continued…

A CHANGE OF PACE... Bermuda (Part 164o)

A CHANGE OF PACE… Bermuda (Part 164o)

It only took a few minutes for us to be driven to the center of the village. I thought we’d get out, thank the cabbie, and be on our way. It didn’t go like that at all. As I mentioned in the previous post the driver gave us a bit of the history of Bermuda on our trip from the hotel to the airport. It turns out that it all started in St. Georges… and we were about to get a lesson on it. I know we could’ve just gotten out of the cab and taken off… but, as a teacher, Elle had gotten into it so we sat there and listened. Not a history buff, I will admit it was interesting and, I still remember some of it.

It was settled by the English in the early 1600’s. The area where we were stopped was called King’s Square. A definite effort had been made to maintain it much the way it was  back then. The State House was pointed out to us and it was supposedly the original one that was built. Also in the square we replicas of the stocks and whipping station used to punish those who broke the laws. While we were parked we could see some tourists actually in the stocks and Elle made a point of saying she wanted a picture of me in them. The taxi driver added a bit of ‘flavor’ about the stocks and punishment when he said that while the person was locked in the stock villagers would come by and throw rotten garbage. Another punishment was exhibited and that was a ducking (or dunking) stool. It was originally in place at the water’s edge and the person so sentenced was strapped into a seat at the end of a long pole and then was lowered into the water. All of the punishments seemed pretty cruel to us. I think I remember being told that most the buildings around the Square were built in the 17th century. I asked about some of the antique things displayed around the Square and it was explained that a couple of times a year re-enactments of those times took place and used them. There was a view of the harbor from where we were stopped and it was a focal point for tourists. When told of that my hunger pangs took root and in exiting the cab I asked where the best pub for good English fish and chips was located. He pointed towards the wharf and wished us a safe trip home.

A look at my watch was a bit disturbing… we’d been sitting in the Square for almost an hour and we hadn’t done any sightseeing at all. I wouldn’t have known what an authentic pub looked like but the one we entered seemed like something from olden days. The server was in period dress and spoke with a definite cockney accent. I’d never had fish and chips so didn’t know what to expect. It was OK but not something I’d go out of my way to order. I’d jotted some notes while the cabby was talking and asked the server how to get to a few places on the list. We were asked if we had ‘bikes’ and when told that we didn’t we were advised to skip some of them. That was disappointing because I wanted to visit the fort. We wandered around the village and found that being Sunday most, if not all, stores were closed. (Remember, it’s 1968 and were in a British colony) Making our way to the outskirts we could see a few planes taking off from the airport. It was reminder to keep an eye on the time. Elle was thirsty so we stopped at another pub where I asked about getting a cab. The server looked at me kind of funny like and made an off-hand comment… something like “it’s Sunday” and shook his head. I explained that we needed to get to the airport by around 4:30pm. He asked which lodging we were at and I told him where we’d stayed. He continued to shake his head and told us that on Sundays the taxis only worked for the different hotels and guest cottages. That left me a little concerned so asked about public transportation. That brought fort a bit of a smile. Busses ran on the half hour during the week… approximately every 45 minutes on Saturdays and on Sunday… whenever they showed up. He was kind enough to tell us where the bus stops were located and we headed for the closest one.

I really don’t know how long it took before one showed up. I’m sure it was quicker than it seemed. We were delivered to the terminal in plenty of time to make our 5pm flight. When I went to the counter tossing in I was told there would be a delay… until 8pm. I asked why and got a long winded answer that I didn’t fully understand. Not being a regular flying passenger I was unaware of the congestion (air) around many of the more popular destinations. This was in the day without sophisticated computers to locate and track all flights and the result was too many planes would end up wanting to land at basically the same time. So… the planes had to fly around in circles until their ‘place in line’ was established. Our airline for the return trip was BOAC and corporate decided they didn’t want to waste fuel going around in circles so made the decision to wait so they had a better chance of just flying up there and landing when they did.

When Gertrude, our travel agent, was making all the arrangements I’d asked her to book us out of Bermuda as late as possible to give us more time. I remember her telling me that BOAC had the best food (back in those days we got real meals) and that on a 5pm flight we’d get a dinner. But, now we weren’t going to be leaving for over 3 hours. I’m not going to say I was broke but I hadn’t planned on paying for a meal. Before I could get upset an announcement was made over the PA system explaining that the airline would pay for our meal at the airport restaurant. They asked for a little time to get prepared to feed around 100 people that they hadn’t planned on. BOAC set up a lottery system to stagger the seating so we could all be accommodated and by 6pm the first were being served. Fortunately, we were among the first. Fish and chips don’t go a long way as far as sustenance goes.

By 7:45pm we were all on board and ready to go. The plane taxied out to the runway and we could see the last vestiges of light on the horizon. And then we watched that last bit of light disappear… and we sat… and sat.When the plane started moving a big cheer went up but we didn’t go very far. Finally, an announcement. A line of squalls was buffeting the coast and the center of it was focused on our destination. Elle had never been comfortable on any of the flights she’d been on with me and hearing that news put her ‘on edge’. I never looked at my watch when we finally took off. I just held Elle’s sweaty hand and kept telling her that planes fly through storms all the time. It wasn’t like I was a seasoned traveler but the look on her face told me she needed to re assured. We hadn’t been in the air for long when the stewardess came down the aisle telling us they’d be serving dinner, not what a lot of people wanted to hear. However, the meal we were served at the airport wasn’t all that much and I was hungry. Elle couldn’t even think about food and when the tray came she turned away. It turned out to be a filet mignon… and was pretty good. That was the last thing good about that flight.

To be continued…