The family landfill

My “office” is the dumping ground for all things that don’t have a proper home around here. A weight bench, stacks of music CDs, Susan’s drawings piled under the window, two area rugs lie in the middle of the floor. And that’s only a small sample of the junk in this spare room.So much stuff. Most of it is my doing. These are the things that I’ve just haphazardly put down when I was in a hurry and didn’t want to bother with putting it away properly. Some of it I don’t know what to do with due to lack of space. I would pitch it except I need it for homeschooling or I want to keep it. Like those CDs. I love music, I just need to create a better system other than on top of the dresser.

Thank the Lord I can shut the door.

Tomorrow our new official office gets the final touch – carpet. I use the term “our” loosely here, becasue Doc (that’s my housebuilding husband) has decared the office his own domain. I’ve got the rest of the house – the kitchen, living room and bedroom. I’ve been permitted a corner of the room for my computer and a small bookshelf. That’s fine with me. I’m happy that my kitchen will no longer hold his computer and all the messiness that goes along with it. You know how that is – bills, papers, computer hardware. And in fairness to him, it’s not really all that messy, it’s just all the clutter that having a home requires to upkeep.
Then this room will be turned on it’s end and it will be conquered. Dare I post a picture?? Hmmm.

Rant on the supermarket bagger

What is with people? Today in the supermarket I attempted to make conversation with an employee and was shot down faster you can ask “paper or plastic?” It’s enough to suck the cheerfulness out of anyone.

It’s a cast of three in this little drama – the cashier, the bagger and myself. The Bag Lady – a middle-aged woman with brown curly hair – placed a bag in my shopping cart. I arranged heavy items on the bottom with the squished-prone food on top. This morning, I had no baby Lucy with me, so I had more room in the cart for delicate items like bread, cookies, and donuts.

We got along fine until I felt a need to make conversation. That’s just me. I like people. I’m the type to chit-chat between floors in an elevator. Plus I’ve shopped at this market for almost 8 years and I see this woman often – more often than my own mother, that’s for sure. I figured she would appreciate my being friendly and not ignoring her.
“There’s more room in the shopping cart without the baby,” I said to Bag Lady.

Bag Lady looked confused.

“The baby,” I repeated, “I don’t have the baby with me today.”

Oh, you have a child… She trailed off. She placed a box of oatmeal in a bag.

“Don’t you remember my baby?” I asked.
This is where the story took a bad turn. No, I’m not that surprised she didn’t remember Lucy. It’s a busy supermarket, afterall. Bag Lady is ready for conversation. It’s just not the conversation I envisioned having with her.

“I can’t be expected to remember everyone who comes in here,” she grumbled. She added more plastic bags to the pile in the cart.

But my baby’s so gorgeous! How could you forget her? I exclaimed in a teasing tone. I felt a bit bad. I didn’t mean to put her on the spot. I hoped my kidding would make her laugh.

No luck there.

Bag Lady plunged on complaining how she couldn’t remember anyone because so many people come into the store. Some folks expected her to remember how they prefered their purchases bagged. Bag Lady kept adding to my now-full shopping cart.

I threw my hands up in exasperation. Okay, okay, I get it. I was just trying to make conversation, I explained.

“So now it’s my fault,” she replied.

Have you ever been completely at a loss for anything polite to say to a stranger? Flabbergastered was an accurate discription of how I felt. It was a real WWJD? moment. Later at home, my husband said that’s the way people are in the world.

Sheesh, Bag Lady, I’m just a mom with a houseful of little kids trying to attempt grown-up conversation. Yikes. Pack a little humor and kindness in those bags next time.