Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Home depo

When I was younger, time spent with friends looked like this: talking at length on the phone, passing notes in class, fast talking in the hallway in between classes, going to the mall, sleepovers.

As I grew into momhood, time spent with friends looked like this: 30 second catch up conversations, meeting at the playground and conversing while watching the children play, chasing them down, helping them up and on, rarely having eye contact with the friend. There were many days at the park that I didn't realize I was sharing stories with a total stranger.

When I began working full time, the prescription for friend time became any space of time when I could be with a pal and chat. I learned to drag friends to the grocery, send invites for a trip to the PO, and meet friends -in- passing on the stairs. I’ve learned to summarize and question in quicktalk fashion. Hey, whatever works, right? All I can say is things don't slow down when the kids get older, other things slip right in there, like work.

So on this day,a good pal needed to vent, and I invited her to come along with me to the Home Depo store. She agreed.

She pushed the cart and chatted away about the challenges of her day. I walked alongside the cart, holding the list that mapped our shopping route. She vented and I listened, calling out our next "stop" in between .

We strolled down aisle 6A “Fiberglass netting” said I.

She replied with, “I couldn’t believe after all the work I put into that project, that he deleted the whole thing!! ARGH”

"The whole thing? criminy!" I added supportively.

We arrived at the netting. I looked at the choices of width and length. “Do you think I need the 200 yard, or the 50 yard roll?”

she continued her story with ,“ AND, the draft was deleted, too!! Gosh I’m so mad about that….. Um, get the 200 yard roll. You never know when you’ll need the extra length……. So then, after all that, he came in late the next day!”

I put the roll in the cart and caught the eye of a red-vested employee. “Sir? Where are the shovels and pitchforks?”

We kept walking, she talking, and me directing the cart in line with the red vest. We dead-ended at a display of tools. “Pitchfork or shovel? I don’t know, what do you think?” I waited.

“Last week, he left the quarterly board meeting before we even got to financials. Nobody else does that, and he didn’t even bother explaining. He just left! He left us all to work hard at staying awake through the number jabber. ….. Pitchfork will go into the dirt better if it is dry and compacted, probably. Are you digging in clay or dirt?”

I closed my eyes and let my head rest back onto my shoulders. “Yeah, lots of leaf-covered soil, vines and dead brush… I think we’ll go pitchfork. It’s a few dollars less, too and I like the handle.” She backed out the cart and we continued on our shopping trail.

I looked at my list. “Um, let’s see what’s next… bungie cords.”

“ Can you believe he has had interior design people in re-doing the board room 3 times this year. And then proceeds to complain about expenditures!!” her pace picked up.

My right arm swung out and held the cart back from running over a runaway child who skirted around the cart and kept running.

The near miss did not deter the venter from venting. She stopped and draped herself over the front of the cart handle, talking into the cart. “ I just don’t think I can take it much longer. The man is insane!”

A red vest crossed our path. “Excuse me, sir. I’m looking for bungie cords?”

“ 18 A about half way down. Here, I'll show you.”

“Thanks.”

We took a hard left down aisle 18. A mound of cords caught my eye. “ Gee, some of these are so short, I don’t know.”

“ How long do you need them to be, ma’am?” the kindly depo man asked.

I stretched my arms into as big a circle as I could, with my fingertips just touching. “ Oh, about this big. Big enough to go around a trash can.”

“Then, you’ll need these, probably. Yes, these should do you fine.” Plop went a pair of lime green bungies into the cart.

We continued on- me now holding the side of the cart so as not to lose it or the driver, and my friend, hanging by her armpits driving with her head hanging lower than a snail’s pace, and her feet dragging behind. I could tell our visit time was coming to a close…just one more item.

“ Ah, there. Garden accessories. Now let’s see if they have a … yeah! I see it, this way, come on, we’re almost done.”

The cart driver moaned, “ I can’t sleep thinking about having to go in to work tomorrow. I can’t do it.”

I patted her bobbing head.“Okay. Here are the rainbarrels. They are all over the place these days, there are so many that they are invisible if you know what I mean. Why, you walk by them in the neighborhood and don’t even notice them. Too big for my Cabrio. Oh, here’s a collapsible one…. But is it big enough?”

I looked around and noticed the outline of a person who was squatting behind the rainbarrel giving it a look. He stood up, then walked away.

My friend bolted upright, her upper body rocketing out of the cart. “OMG. Did you see that man? I thought it was HIM for a minute.”

I put my hand on her shoulders, and guided her back down to ground level. “Come on, let’s go. Anyway,I think that’s about right, and it will fit in my car, too. ”

I walked over and picked up the collapsible rainbarrel and added it to the cart. I pushed against the cart, aiming it for the front of the store and we headed towards the checkout.

We wove our way through the store in quiet. Then, her voice released slow syllables, “ Uh, what are you getting these things for, anyway?”

A lightbulb flashed in my mind’s eye as I inventoried our cart and replayed her store ramblings.

I smiled. “You mean why did I get a length of netting big enough to wrap, say, a body ? and why did I get bungie cords long enough to wrap around a body so the limbs wouldn't fall out? And Why did I get a rainbarrel big enough to hold an average sized person? And Why did I get a pitchfork strong enough to dig a big hole?”

She stood- frozen in the homedepo, her eyes wide as full moon. I could see the hairs standing up on her arms. She had a hard grip on the cart.
“Uh, yeah. Why DID you get those things?”
“I got these things for the garden, of course, what did you think?”

And we headed home.

Bell-less Wednesday

There are no bells today. My bell friend is traveling to her summer home now. The halls are quiet this morning. sigh.....................
The bell choir is on sabbatical until Fall.
sigh.......................
I rely on a few of Edgar's words to fill in this bell-less blog.


I Hear the sledges with the bells - Silver bells!
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells From the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells - From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.
.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Kansas??

I am a church secretary. A church is a place that usually houses a sanctuary, a place for fellowship, and often times a smaller sanctuary called a chapel. I used to work in a place that met all of that but over the last few days, when I've entered the building, it just hasn't felt like Kansas anymore.

Midweek of last, I was booking down the hall to visit the Business Administrator's office and as I rounded the corner, I glanced into the Chapel,but the baby cute Chapel was gone. My gasp echoed back to me, bounced off of the vacant walls and floor. The room was empty. Aliens had clearly abducted the pews. The sacred room was pewless. On that day, in that moment, I assumed I was hallucinating. I looked around to see if anyone else had noticed the change, but it didn't appear so, so I cautiously entered the foreign space. I stood in the middle of the room and closed my eyes. The spirits of days gone by were clearly present. Memories of weddings and baptisms whispered past me. In a matter of seconds I was surrounded, encased by years and years of the essence of history. The room was full. When I opened my eyes, the sense of all that evaporated. The chapel was a different space.

Friday, I thought I had lost more of my mind, (there is not much left to spare) and so I retraced my steps to the car, keeping my eyes glued to the pavement in search of mind. None found. I headed for the kitchen, and cut through the Fellowship Hall to get there. I crawled over soundboards and flat screens; scooted between black boxes and tripped over cords snaking about the area. Where did the Fellowship Hall go? What happened to tables and chairs? What??


Today, I wondered if we were going to be on an upcoming episode of "Flip This or That House". I entered the building and ran slam into long, slender open casket-like boxes,stacked 6 feet high in the Lobby. The sanctuary doors were open, and the carpet was gone. So were half the pews- some sat disassembled , others waiting their turn. The organ had been silenced by an ongoing tonsillectomy in full swing. There were strangers at work. The figures in the stained glass look worried. Would they be next?

I used to work in a church. Right now, I work in a place that is called a church, except it has no sanctuary, no chapel and no fellowship hall. We're not in Kansas anymore.

Friday, April 18, 2008

VACA- How little it takes

Although you'd never know it based on my job at church, I am an introvert. I used to think otherwise, for much of my life has been spent in front of crowds teaching workshops, or training other teachers, or in a classroom with a gaggle of children. I've done my fair share of speaking to City Council and have had many occasions to hold community events and dinners at home or in our back yard. For reasons I now understand, those times were just times when I was 'on'. In truth, I count on solitude to calm my spirit and to recharge my soul. We all need to find our individual balance between chaos and calm. I love to write and sew and read; crochet or knitting soothes and relaxes me; gardening heals. Cooking can be meditative. My comfort zone is tiny as well. I live in a circumference that I can walk to - work, the Y, church, grocery. It works for me. I don't travel much.


I love my job at work church because it gives me the best of both aforementioned siblings, Chaos and Calm. In the course of a day at work, I see many many people, but usually in drips and drabs. On busy days, a steady stream of people stop by the office or phone or email, and I enjoy that contact, but at the end of the day, I am ready for some quiet. I think that is one reason I like Yoga so much. Sometimes, when I'm in Yoga, I can hardly believe I used to teach disco dancing- the two are so completely at odds with each other.


My oldest daughter had a big occasion this week- her first conference event that she had planned and organized. She offered me an opp to go with her on a 'pretend' vaca. It was one overnight, and located close to two other daughters' schools so I agreed, then said, "Well, I dunno" then, " Sure, I'm going" then, " Well, maybe not". She was kind and patient, and I finally decided a change of scene was in order so I drove us up to Winston-Salem. She is good travel company. She told me she had planned a pedicure for me while she set up for the event so I'd feel more vacationy. It was a very nice treat.

We arrived without any unwelcomed travel hitches, and she headed into the conference area to set up shop.I left the hotel with directions in hand, and a few minutes later, I was parked and had my shoes off . I enjoyed the treatment. Mostly, I appreciated her letting me know ahead of time and the fact that she was so thoughtful as to treat me to such a luxury without coming along for the entertainment. I tend to sink into the massage chair and have been told I look somewhat like a cat or dog leaning and twisting into the bark of a good scratchy tree limb trying to "get" the tree to scratch just the right spot. In addition, my feet are extremely wary of strangers, and they tend to jerk and squirm in the hands of the pedicure artists. Twice a year, sometimes 3 times, I'll go through the torturous, in a good way, pedicure. I can't take it any more often than that.

We had a surprise dinner with my Wake Forest near graduate daughter, and were in bed in our nighties by 7. Yes, 7. I crocheted a hat for our newest youth director and his preggers wife, and lights were out at ten. I was up at 3 as per my usual wake up call, and emailed a bit - my daughter's anxiety kept her up so we visited in the dark for a few moments and back to sleep fell we.


She was up and out by 7; I took my time getting ready, then drove to Greensboro to see yet another daughter who is majoring in recreational therapy. We shopped, and had lunch and yarn shopped, I got a friend some needle sticker things, and used a coupon my daughter gave me to have my car washed. " since you can't do this in Raleigh, Mom", and then we just piddled around. I saw the "wall" and Outdoor Adventures where she works.

That afternoon, I drove back to Winston-Salem in time to watch my oldest succumb to a nasty stomach virus. I ended up sitting at the conference table handing out nursing certificates and packing up when it was all done while she spent time in the restroom- not resting. We drove home with the top down, hoping the fresh, albeit frenetic, blasts of air might keep her nausea at bay. It's hard to puke when you're in a convertible going 70 mph.

I dropped her off, helped her into her cozy apt, and I made it home in time for yoga. It was a good trip. Short and sweet and with most of my girls. I missed work, though. Yes, I did. No, really, I did.


While gone, on this extended trip, I called a buddy at work and reported in a few times, and emailed in between. I missed my work friends so much that I brought back special treats. A shoe shiner for one who loves shoes, a miniature bottle of lotion for one who appreciates those finer things, a makeup remover cloth, and a couple of cards- one said "Help" and the other had room for notes. I had looked high and low for these types of items while shopping in Greensboro, but alas, it was in the hotel room alone that the particular quality and perfect designs were found. Isn't that just the way? You look all over creation for just the perfect Do not disturb sign and there it sits hanging on your hotel door the whole time? I had fun giving them out when I returned today and I could tell they all appreciated tremendously, the thought that went into each and every specialized gift. I love my workmates.

My boss couldn't seem to find his special gift, and as I got up to go pull it out of his mail cubby i said, " Yes, you've been to Italy, and brought me a lovely mixture of beans for soup, but THIS present can't be found just anywhere." When he saw the trifold pamphlet titled, "NOTES" I could tell he was touched. That's just the kind of guy he is.


This morning when I came in, one of our building maintenance crew said she had missed my quirkiness. I guess she called it. Her gift was a day old flattened chocolate croissant, that had actually been the victim of passenger sittage. The delicacy was warm when I bought it, the day before. She seemed to feel special when I handed her the squashed paper bag. She knew my heart was full of good intentions. That's when she made the quirkiness comment. I can think of worse characteristics. I'll take quirky anyday. Doesn't hurt anyone, and isn't mean spirited. Sounds pretty good to me.

My next door office neighbor left me the sweetest note of what she did when I was gone.
"Missed you, made coffee, ate nuts, had gum, ( out of my desktop sustenance containers on my desk) missed you some more. " It was nice to come home to. You'd have thought I had been away a week.

The organist ( we are partners in desktop snackness choices) moaned that it was no fun sneaking the goodies if I wasn' t there to notice. He is an artist in so many ways, delivering moan-y missed-you comments being one. It was dramatic, loving, and delicious- made me feel glad to be back.

I think it says something special and good when you can be away a couple of days, and feel like you've been to Jupiter and back. I am grateful to have been missed.

Something awry happened, though. While I was gone, it snowed. It snowed paperwork on my desktop. A blizzard of work sat on my desk, sprawled and restless, listening to the mystery radio station, awaiting my return. How did that happen? Gnome and Watchbear( nicknamed Sparky) must have skipped out when I did because they are supposed to keep away extra work that tries to enter the office. Guess I'll have to talk to that duo next week.



Saturday, April 12, 2008

vacations/timeshare

I had an opportunity to messy chef cook at home church this week, so I took Friday off to shop and to give myself an additional day to pull it together without being rushed. At home church, i am called Messy Chef because my meals are comfort foods, which are messy. I'm actually a neat cooker, I like to clean up as I go; it feels a little magical when the cooking is done, and there isn't a sink full of pots waiting to be bathed.

When I help Nathan, who is a REAL chef, I'm his clean up crew. It works well. I like to help him in this way. Over my years as a mom, and wife, I've solved many a problem or quandry standing over a kitchen sink full of soapy water. Salty tears dispell the bubbles, so you either have to keep adding the liquid soap, or work through whatever is on your mind quick. I've done both. There is comfort in that.

Tonight, my oldest daughter came by to eat with me in the kitchen, and she said something like, " You're in the zone of this now, you are standing in that mom stance." Apparently, I stand with my legs crossed when I am cooking and concentrating, or doing the dishes or chopping or stirring. She finds comfort in seeing that, it brings back some good childhood memories. I am glad she has those. I am more glad she shared it and that she came to just be with me- she was a big help.

You never really know about those invisible moments unless your kids tell you.

Anyway, I worked very hard yesterday, shopping in bulk, and prepping and made massive amounts of brownies among other things. By day's end, my body was aching . My fingernails were slumping over with exhaustion, and my legs kept trying to fake me out, hopeng I'd give in and go home. I told my church chick mentor/friend that my body was tired, but my mind had been on a complete vacation all day. I had lunch with my best church chick buddy, and I spent hours working on the meal for tonight. It was pure heaven. I think it falls into the category of a type of vacation called Timesharing.

I used to think those timesharing deals were places, but for me, timesharing is sharing time in safe and peaceful places. I highly reccommend it.

Earlier in the day, I had stopped by a friend's house to piddle in her yard. I'm trying to help her with a garden this season, and we are enjoying the time to just visit. I can't work too long in the dirt as I used to, but I enjoy it more now because i can choose when and how much to do. There are a couple of friends that I am helping with this season. I think I'll be a garden tender on the side. Get it set up , and then just check on it or talk to the plants to pump them up and spend a little time with them. It's a comforting activity.

One friend has wanted a garden but needed incentive to get it in gear, so we've worked together to get it going. The other friend has been very free and flexible in letting me just do in her yard. Funny, I actually have some ideas of what might be fun to try. We'll see how it goes. When they are away alot this summer, I'll be over watering and checking on our plant friends. It will make me feel like they aren't gone. The other friend works crazy hours and needs help keeping her garden tended.
My own gardenette is going well! I have a head of lettuce ready to pick and the summer plants are antsy to hit the ground. My oldest daughter is also getting ready to put her gardenette in. Ah, the time of year. Some folks take gardening as seriously as taxes, but I find if you keep your expectations in check it is much less stressful and more enlightening in other ways. My goal is to not kill and to get something to live. Surely that will happen. Time will tell. One head of lettuce and a beautiful brussels sprouts plant are telling me that. Oh, and my potatoes are up . These are good signs.

Gosh how did I get to gardens from timeshare vacation?I don't know, but I will tell you this
When you've put your heart and grateful soul into messy cheffing at home church and you find you are feeling like your age has doubled , and your body is getting ready to blink you, the best refreshing thing to do is go to a friend's kid's ballgame and sit.

I discovered a few years ago the rejuvenation one can have by watching someone else's child in action. Be it singing in a concert, or playing ball, just being present for another child is quite refreshing. I loved watching my own kids, but they are grown now, and the stressfullness of hoping they would do as well as they wanted, the dread of if they disappointed their father, well, it was hard. I was proud of their efforts always, and I still am, but relaxing during those events- nada.

This is different. It is so interesting to watch other kids grow into who they want to be. Fascinating. One friend's daughter sings. I have seen her go from a tiny angel to a lovely young teen, who connects with the music. Her spirit flies about when she is singing. Something touches her in a special deep place when she is able to connect with the music. I'm not sure she is even aware of it, but I can see it.

I've been to my best buddy at work's son's ball game, but he's into football now and that hurts.

There is a young man I have enjoyed watch play ball for a long time now. First, the differences between boys baseball and my own experience with girls' softball was something that interested me. Then there was the relief that I did not have to keep score, then that I didn't even have to know all the players, or keep up with exactly all aspects of what was going on. It felt like vacation to sit and just watch a ball pitched, and the play that ensued. I still seek out those opps, and in that, I'm able to watch this young man grow. All of these experiences are gifts that I value greatly.
My own girls enjoy the baseball with me as well. Those days were important to them, and now, they enjoy being on the other side of the fence with friends who play.


Today is over now, the meal finished, cleaned up. I am tired. and achy, my back is hurting more than Yoga can fix, and I am sweaty, and all my joints are on strike. But I can't wait til the next opp comes up. In these days of not knowing much about who and where I am on this path of life, these moments tell me I can go through the motions of putting together a meal for friends, and motion is probably healthy. I am lucky that home church lets me just be me and accepts what I can give them. I am lucky they accept me who and however I am, these days very uncertain many times. Work church takes me as I am as well, and that is pure grace. Sometimes, I don't know what to do with it. The acceptance from others, is so much more than I expect. Go figure

Right now, the ibuprofen is kicking in, i'm cozy at home, with dishpan hands, and I will say, on Monday when I return to my favorite "real" job , that I had a wonderful vacation.

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

When the phoneman rings twice

Isn't this just typical? When the boss comes home, the phones go out? We've had phone problems over the last few days that I find personally amusing. You might say, "Hmmm. church chick. .... Could this humorous perspective come from the fact that the phones ring steady most days in/ days out? Could your lightheartedness be floating on the wings of not wanting to answer? Another. Darn. Call.???????????????? Or is it simply your sick sense of comedy at work? "

The answer is - no comment.

The phoneline nervous breakdown presented with symptoms of neurotic ringing. The phone would ring once; the receptionist, or me or my neighbor would pick up to hear- absolutely nothing- not even heavy breathing. nada. just silence. This happened alot. Then not at all. Then alot. Then some. Then, a few and then none. Eventually, a pattern evolved. We figured out if we let the phone ring twice, then it was probably a real person calling in, and not someone trying to call from the grave, and we began waiting for the second ring to pick up.

Our tech guy called the phone company and they sent someone out. The guy they sent was a kind hearted fellow,though he reeked of smoke. We spoke often, as he investigated the awry phone saga, but every time he left my office, I quick quick opened my window to release the stale smoke. Once, he left and did a quick turnaround. I was busy pushing open the window and trying to find a clean breath of air when I heard him yell out, " Don't Jump, Miss. Please Don't jump!!" I pulled myself back inside the office and turned around. " I was just opening the window, man. Just getting some fresh air."
He stood at the door, looking relieved. " You know, I WILL fix this problem. It's just going to take a while."
"I have every faith in your ability, truly I do" I answered as supportively as I could.
So he went back to work.
Hours passed

The phones finally succumbed to panic and started to scream-ring at veryloud volume. Having no phone-anti-depressants or anti- anxiety meds on hand, I tried my best to comfort my desk phone by talking it down. " It's just issues, my friend. We all have them. Humans, birds, phones, copy machines. Let it go. You'll be better soon." The lights that had been blinking erratically all afternoon stopped completely. The phone went dead. Not knowing phone cpr, i removed the receiver from the cradle and gently laid it on my desktop.

Later that afternoon, I was at the front desk and I noticed the phone guy standing at the desk barely able to hold himself up. His eyebrows were dripping sweat and his eyes had gone dull.

"What is it, Mister Phone man? What?" NOW, who's looking low, I thought to myself. A quick scan of the area brought a nearby window into my sight and i moved my position so as I became a barrier between him and it.

" The part they sent was faulty. and now I can't get the old part to Not work like it has been Not working, so you basically have phones out of control. I don't usually work on this kind of system and I'm really worried that I can't get it right. I've ordered a new part, and it will be in tomorrow."

"Listen, buddy. Go home. You've done all you can here. I know you have given it your all."

--------------The next morning arrives.
I come in to work. The phones are singing loud and staggered. But something is different. I walk down the hall and notice that whenever a call comes in, ALL phones ring. Typically only my and the desk phone ring in outside calls, the rest wait to have calls transferred to them. I sit at my desk and pick up a call and realize quickly that the ability to transfer has stopped functioning. The phones are now losing bodily functions. Transfers cause disconnections. OH, man. This is going to be a grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaattttttttttttttttday, I can tell.

I hear a voice coming from down the hall. "Church Chick, something is wrong. I'm getting all the incoming calls. and I can't seem to transfer." I walked down to the staff person's office and delivered the news of reality. "Bottom line is, we're ALL the receptionists today until the phones get fixed."

A little while later, my boss is in. The phone rings. and rings. I go in and say, "Just say, Church, can I help you?" He said amidst the continuing ring, " No, my red light is blinking, it is for me" I watched him pick up and just say hello. Then a peculiar look came over him."No, we don't need another credit card, thanks." He hung up.
"The phones are not working, are they?" he asked.
" Right"
About that time, the youth directors came bounding down the stairs. '

" WEll, I guess WE'RE the receptionists today! The calls are ringing in our offices."
I said, " Well, the phones are ringing in EVERYONE's offices. and the transfer doesn't work."
"Oh." said one
"Oh." said the other.
"I got a call and transferred it and then they called right back"said one.
" Me, too!"
I added, " That's because you cut them off"
"Oh"
"Oh"
"Yeah."
"So what do we do?"
" I'm thinking we take messages and deliver them; sort of like the pony express , only with phone messages. "
"Oh, okay." and they traipsed back up the stairs.
The preacher answered the phone today. The associate answered. I did. The maintenance man did. The steeple repair guy answered. The mailman answered. It was a full team effort.
Man, talk about wearing somebody else's shoes. That is what happened today.

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

The Boss is Back!!

I have missed writing. My fingers itch itch itch, but by the time the day is done, they can't type a straight sentence,so I've been amiss for a while.

I appreciate the comments and requests for more stories, it makes my day to have friends, some who i have not even really gotten to know, comment on the chronicles. Thanks for that.

Today, I only want to say, The Boss Is Back!! This fact has restored my faith in good things.

He got away for a few days with his honey bunny of 30 years, and I'm glad about that.

What I am NOT glad about is the size of the wheel wells of commercial airplanes. No kidding, you can't get a small animal in there much less a middle aged, overweight church secretary. It's a crime.

In addition, I was very frustrated with Samsonite to see that their suitcases did not zip from the inside. American Tourister either. Louis Vaton?? Nope. How in the heck do they expect people like me to stowaway if we can't even contain ourselves in the luggage? Criminy!!!

So, I stayed behind at the old mill and kept typing away. Being spring break, and the let down after Easter, traffic was slow and quiet. I got lots of work done without pressure, and lots of mistakes made and corrected without the side order of panic. I look forward to summer when I can do more catch up work at a slower pace.

Time rolled along, and many folks stopped by to say things like, "How's it going with the cat away?"
"meOW, baby" said I, typing through kitty tears at my keyboard.

Later in the week, " So, having a blast with the boss gone?"
"NO"

and

"Is it quiet around here without your boss on the hall?"
"I MISS MY BOSS!!"

What does it say when the mice get depressed when the Cat is away? It means, the cat must be the Cat's Pajamas. and believe me, he is. I couldn't ask for a better boss, and I'm glad he's home.