No One Should Be Irreplaceable…

  It’s a nice, quiet, cool and drizzly Saturday.  A day of coffee and catch-up blog reading.  The satellite radio station seems to know what kind of day it is and the music is appropriate.

Angela came in to see if Stacey left a key…no, even though he’s been in the past two days. It did give us a chance to chat about how are faith strengthens our respective relationships and how nice it is to be back with the love of our lives; and how happy God has made us in spite of ourselves.

A rental from a guy with stuffed wild turkeys that he personally killed. Apparently, his wife does not have the same appreciation as he does for the finer things…just wait until he gets the coyotes back from the taxidermist. Better go ahead and rent a larger unit now.

Rental trucks coming and going.

A relatively calm work day in the self-storage environment after such a busy week.

I went through a dozen or so resumes in hopes of finding just the right person. I found three. I interviewed one. She, I think, will be perfect for the assistant position. It amazes me how some people can almost beg for a job and then not show up for the interview—without a call to say they won’t be showing up. I have a feeling there’s a reason they were unemployed. It is alright, I got the cream.  Alas, I can’t start her until sometime next week because the VP who is in charge of the next stage of hiring is on vacation until Monday. Shouldn’t someone else be able and/or authorized to do this in his absence? No One Should Be Irreplaceable…

This past week was public sale week for those who haven’t paid their storage rent in a few months. One hates to do it but, it’s all part of the business. Unanswered legal letters, phone calls, messages, voicemails…sold!

Next week should be more fun as soon as the young lady starts training – I like training. I often feel like a potter taking raw clay and forming a new pot or figurine. It really isn’t about me, though. It is about another chapter, with a new character.

Twenty days to go until my long weekend of time with my wife and friends; and fishing…and relaxation.

Jay  🙂

So, last night before bed my wife presented the profoundly daunting question, “If right is right, why would anyone go left?” I had no argument there. 😉

 

My Sanctuary

There’s no place like home

I enjoy people in the real world; I enjoy the customer service aspect of my job as I also enjoy karaoke.  But when I am home with my wife and the furry kids, I so enjoy my privacy.

Oh how I enjoy my privacy.  Thankfully, soon the leaves on the trees will be full enough to where the neighbors can’t see me and I won’t be able to see them.

The daffodils have departed, the tulips are on their way out; azaleas and dogwoods in bloom as I await the irises and the peonies.  The birds feeding — the blue birds in their houses and soon the return of humming birds and butterflies.

An April rainy day, a cup of coffee and the love of my life…God has blessed me, the sinner, in spite of myself.

My God-given sanctuary in a city neighborhood.

Jay 🙂

 

 

One More Night

One More Night

A shorter story by Jay LeBorgne © 2014

The boy aloft in the crow’s nest calls out, “land ahead,” as the ship breaks from three days of fog.  The sun is long set–I can see the shoreline aglow from the beach fires welcoming this long weary crew.  None as weary as her First Officer, his last night at sea.  The last night with this smelly, fine, crackerjack crew.

The Captain sleeps while I dream.  I dream of Abigail, my love of near a quarter century.  My love for life and the reason for my existence.  She waits for one more night.  I am as elated as I am tired.

The crew ready.

“Helmsman, Right 10 Degrees Rudder,” I bellow though the wind does not warrant such a voice.

“Rudder 10 Degrees Right, Sir,” he responds sharply.

I am tired, too tired to continue anything but dream of the life that awaits me with my beloved Abigail.

“Chief, prepare sails for anchor.”

“Aye, sir,” he growls before he barks his orders to the seamen.

All I can see is her light ashen hair blowing in the breeze that I struggle to hear over the commands.  I stand erect just beside the wheel, the helmsman starts to whistle a bawdy tune.  My mind snaps to attention to avoid allowing the tune to defile the vision of my beloved Abigail.  Time has stopped for me but the sails are furled.

“She’s ready, Lieutenant,” the Chief almost whispers.

“Thank you, Chief.  All hands bring ship to anchor!”

She is ready.  “Let go!” I shout for the final time.

The anchor runs to coastal depth until it hits sand.  The ship slowly rests to drift.  Waters calm.

“Set the watch,” commands the Chief in his less-than-mellow tone.  “Crew to muster.”

Unexpectedly the men gather in a loose group in front of me.  The Chief speaks softly, “Sir, we would like to say how much we’ll be missin’ you as First Mate.  You’ve been a fair commander, Sir…well, we just wanted to let you know, Sir.”  The Chief was slightly teary-eyed.  He is a fine old sailor.

“Well, thank you, Chief.”  I attempt to choke back my emotions.  “I too, would like to extend my gratitude to each and every one of you men.  I’ve been at this a lifetime and you are the finest crew an officer could ever hope to have under his command.  Each of you made me the officer that I am.  Thank you.  And I mean every word.  It is one thing to be the leader of men but it also takes good men like yourselves for me to be that leader.  Carry on, Chief.  Good night, men.”

“Fair winds and following seas, Sir,” they respond in well-practiced unison.  They all depart to their places.  I cannot understand their mumblings.

After briefing the Captain and a farewell toast with him, I lay to my stateroom and make my final journal entry.

     Ships anchored awaiting morning tide.  All hands present and accounted for.  All is well.

     Lieutenant William Dunlop Smithson, First Officer, Sailing Ship Oak Leaf Cluster

     This the 5^th Day of June in the year of Our Lord, Eighteen Hundred Ninety-five

I doubt I will sleep soundly.  The ship turns toward the shore and again and through my portal I see the beach fires burning, lighting an otherwise dark land.  The stars are finally visible, the air crisp with a soft wind.

And Abigail’s ashen hair wisps across her face as she smiles brightly.  Her hazel eyes glimmer in the sunlight…

One more night.

 

Brrrrrrr…Are you ready for winter?

That’s a fairly good question to ask after record cold temperatures and substantial amounts of snow in some places so far this season.

Doesn’t it make you wonder how the prognosticators determine in advance what your weather is going to be for a futuristic period of time?

I can understand if the weather people attempt to forecast a few days out based on weather patterns currently in place but the whole winter, really?  Well, what are the secrets to weather prediction?

Okay, so over at accuweather.com, (cold and wet for North Carolina) they’ve put out their guesses, which of course differ slightly from the Old Farmer’s Almanac, (cold and dry for North Carolina).  I show NC because that is what concerns me, personally.

Over at The Courier Journal, in part, you’ll find the following.

WEATHER WISDOM OR RUBBISH – YOU DECIDE

• Hornets’ nests built in the tops of trees indicate a mild winter is ahead; nests built close to the ground indicate that a harsh winter is coming.
• The higher the clouds, the better the weather.
• If the cat washes her face over her ear, the weather is sure to be fine and clear.
• Clear moon, frost soon.
• When leaves fall early, autumn and winter will be mild; when leaves fall later, winter will be severe.
• When ants travel in a straight line expect rain; when they are scattered, expect fair weather.
• If the first snow falls on unfrozen ground, expect a mild winter.
• Flowers blooming in late autumn are a sign of a bad winter.
• A warm November is the sign of a bad winter.
• A ring around the sun or moon means rain or snow coming soon.

You’ll also hear people tell you about fur stripes on woolly worms and other such things about the spoon(heavy snow), fork(light snow) and knife(cutting wind) shapes of persimmon seeds.  And bug scientist will tell you that a woolly worm sheds its fur an average of six times in its lifespan of about 2 years and gets lighter in color the older it gets.  The darker a woolly worm, the younger a woolly worm.  My woolly worms are all black…so there.

Well, I’m not so sure about the signs of the times but I’ll stick with squirrels.  Yes, squirrels.  For as long as I can remember (but don’t ask me what I had for breakfast yesterday) I use the actions of my squirrels to predict the severity of winter.  Last year, my squirrels were fat as cats and there were no nuts left on the ground — we had a colder and more snowy winter in our area.  This year, I have a lot nuts on the ground and my squirrels look like squirrels, not cats.  They are nice and trim.

Sure it’s been cold the last week but I don’t think that’s too bad compared to folks in Buffalo, NY.  They got buffaloed for sure.

I really do hope the weather is less harsh for us, mainly because my snow blower is broken.  😉

How do you predict your winter weather, or do you?

 

Jay 🙂