Small Things

I don't really want to get into the whole  Boomerang Kids  discussion or debate. This is just how it is  today, this week, this  month; for now .
 
I have two kids, men actually. One has been  out on his own for close to 10 years and the other has not. I love my guys and more than that, I like my guys. I think they are wonderful men. I admire the people they have become. They are generous and helpful and funny. Recently they have both left town-literally.  The younger one has bounced in and out of our home for the last 3 years working in other communities and then returning home as the season geared down, travelling,  returning home, and setting off to work out of town again.  The last time he arrived home he said,

" This is the last time I am doing this. When I leave next time, I leave for good"

As the season for him to leave approached there was a flurry of activity as he sorted, filed, packed and disposed of a decade of the un-disposed detritus of life. I was pressed into service. It was bittersweet because while there was almost a decade when my mantra was "I will miss him when he's gone" the fact hit me squarely in the face. I no longer felt that way. We had moved on from that parent-child gulley of tension to an easy rhythm of respect. Still I am no fool, and  it was past time for him to be gone.

Interspersed with his preparation was his older brother's preparation to relocate after a "world tour."  We went to his soccer games -"this could be the last time" we said to each other. His Dad shared sports with him on the little screen at home and the big screen in the bar. (Small mercies- *I* am NOT a sports fan!) We shared breakfast, lunch, and dinner with him -

"Who knows when we'll do this again?" we said to each other.

Life has been a whirlwind of activity-not chosen activity but truly a whirlwind where you are picked up and swept along in our case by the energy of two whirlwinds.

Before the scheduled date, a call came and our younger son was on a plane heading out . Left behind were partially filled boxes, full hangers, unfiled taxes, tools, records and a car. Mom - that's me stepped in. I am delighted to say the taxes are filed , the car is sold and a very few of the boxes have been closed.

Elder son left a few weeks after his brother. His father and I helped him get his home ready to rent, sell his car and we ate, reminised and just plain hung out together. "We may never do this again" we said to each other.

It's been three weeks since the last plane left. My husband has taken to leaving the laundry basket right outside  our son's door when he comes up from our basement laundry room.

"I know no one is going to come barrelling through there"  he said to me one day by way of an explanation  I hadn't asked for. I nodded. I notice he has taken to parking his truck in the middle of the drive way. It is the only vehicle.  None of our friends  would expect to park on the  rear driveway. As I leave the house I grab my purse and go I notice. There is no shuffling of coats to find where my things have been buried. From time to time I find myself glancing towards the back of the house surprised to find there are no large shoes askew on the floor by the door.

I DO miss them now they are gone, and so does he. We are though, alone together at last.

a Storm of discontent

Todays post is brought to you by the letter C.

C is for cookie which is good enough for many but C is also for CURMUDGEON a term which I may deserve. You will have to make the determination for yoursel.

http://www.concentric.net/~marlowe/curdef.shtml

It has been seven years since I gave up my car. The decision came about for many reasons, I no longer enjoyed driving, after two accidents without injury I felt like my number was up, I had serious ecological concerns, I had just taken on my first mortgage. . . the list goes on. So my reality is I walk I bike and I use public transit. Not a season goes past that someone somewhere in our fair town does not write a letter to the editor lamenting the behaviour of students on the bus. Personally I see kids being kids oblivious for the most part to the adults around them. I have asked for a seat and willingly been given one on the rare days when I have been too loaded down to stand myself. I have excused myself when I needed to pass and no one has ever willingly denied me passage.

SO imagine my delight when the Darling Grand, a young man of 15, and I were on the bus during the recent Spring Break. It was just after 4pm and a woman in her early 50's got on and stood near to us. The Darling Grandchild leaned over and whispered in my ear "should I get up and give her my seat Grammy?" Proudly I nodded and he addressed her personally offering his seat.

We shuffled; he out, me to the window seat, and her sliding in to take my place. Not a smile did she crack, not a thank you did she utter. The Lad swayed above us as we crawled home. Imagine his embarassment!

C is for COURTESY and THAT is a two way street!

Moving on...

I recently had issue with our local Cable service provider. I was given misinformation and based on that misinformation I made a decision that I would not otherwise have made. I called back to see if there was some resolution to this issue. I was advised there was nothing that could be done for me. I asked for a supervisor who once again told me there was nothing that could be done for me (not true since the matter was eventually resolved to my satisfaction, but I digress) however the Supervisor would provide agent feedback and the agent would be coached on his error and his Manager could call me back.

OKAY so please tell me why I would be concerned about the career development of this agent,why I would be interested in internal disciplinary procedures? How would it help me as the consumer here today to know that in future, callers may not be provided with the misinformation I was given?

Oh and C is also for CUSTOMER SERVICE
and on with the C's or so it seems

Today I went to Giant Books- you know the one-the mega store that's larger than the community hospital in small towns. There were a number of specific titles I needed in a hurry and I knew I could get with one trip -not an option in my funky little independant bookstore. Putting my titles down on the counter I announced I'd like a Loyalty card because after all every body likes a deal, mine was expired by several years - I love my independant bookstore. The clerk to her credit pharased the question well - Was I a teacher or a senior over 65?

"I wish" I said.

"That's not an answer I have ever had" she said brightly. She said she planned to age with vigour and enthusiasm. I assured her that certainly I would have said the same thing just a few years ago but there would come a day when others would see her as grey and therfore old and as a corollory simple, feeble minded, or stupid. Surely not she said. I just smiled at her, my knowing older woman smile.
She verbalized my total as she swiped my debit card.



"How much?" I asked.

Sweetly she began to explain the bill, offering I had saved $13.

"But how much was the loyalty card?" I asked.

"Well you saved thirteen dollars." she began again.
"I understand I have benefitted from the loyalty card but HOW much does it cost?

Once again She tried the company line
"based on your purchases today I'd say with just one more visit the card will have paid for"

So here are my words to the wise corporate types out there, You can teach your customer service staff how to handle customer objections but seriously you cannot buy consumer loyalty with $25 of the consumers own money!

There was another topic I wanted to address and I am pretty sure it also began with a C but I think I have said enough for now and so I will just curl up for a nice little Catnap which also begins with C

Fall 2008

Afterwards. . .

silver whorls upon your chest, near where my head I lay to rest
what else are those old man's pyjamas keeping from me?

Doh, a Dear

Marg was the first one to call me Dear. I mean the first in my adult life other than my Grandmother and Aunt. I was taken back by it but Marg lived with her elderly parents at the time in one of those role reversal situations that happens to single women of a certain age, AND she was and is my contemporary or at least close enough that it no longer matters.

Then there was a "shop girl" by that I mean a woman who has chosen or had chosen for her. a life in retail. Familiarity can be expected from someone who has just seen you in your skivies.And the "odd waitress" but some of her customers were "Honey" so Dear didn't seem so bad.

The other day it was one of the managers at work who resolved a problem for me as is his job. "there you go Dear" he said. Bite me - thought I as I smiled a benign smile.