This story is a little difficult to start. Perhaps the best thing to do would be to to tell you that for the most part I was terrified beyond my wits and then get on with it.
I was the manager of the local farmers' market and Sally came up to me. She was trying to pack up and leave when some guy put his ramps on her own personal table and tried to sell them. I went down there and told him he couldn't sell his ramps there. He went all off on Sally for telling, but he moved on.
For the uninitiated, ramps is a kind of onion. I have since heard tales that they will mess with your mind if you eat too many, but I dunno.
Anyway I moved on down and found the same guy in the center of the market still trying to sell his ramps. I told him if he wanted to sell ramps he would need to fill out the paperwork and get a qualified spot. I didn't even mention the $100 registration fee or the weekly spot rental. He told me he just wanted to sit and drink the coffee he had just bought. I told him if he wanted to do that he would need to sit in the coffee drinking area.
We went on a bit back and forth and finally I told him that I must maintain order at the market. He was a fit, camouflage wearing survivor kind of guy. I fully expected him to snap my neck at any moment. He asked me did I really understand the consequences of "keeping my order". I looked him in the eye and said "I don't think anybody is going to threaten me over a farmers market"
He said "You are right" and left.
I was so terrified I got my assistant to check if he was really leaving.
Meanwhile, vendors and the band had been trying to get my attention to see if they needed to call 911. Really kids, you don't need my permission.
There is one thing that seems to happen to me every time every time I visit a store. The first time it happened I was in a big department store, and I was maybe fourteen. And no, I did not look mature for my age.
I am the eternal victim of something that should never happen. This is not quite up to the embarrassment level of asking an overweight woman "When is the baby due?" but it does involve a question that should never be asked.
"Do you work here?"
First of all, if you are in a store and the person you are addressing has a name tag prominently displaying the name of the store along with their own name and you ask them that question they will automatically think you are annoyingly stupid. When I worked in a big box the question would drive my friends up the wall. It never really bothered me, because I would always answer with something like "No mostly I stand around with my hands in my pockets".
But that is not what I came here to whine about. The thing is, whenever I am in a store, any store at all, I am constantly asked that question. A few notable incidents stand out in my mind.
At one time I made my living as a gardener. The gig was not far from my house and usually I would go home and clean up a bit after work before going into town. I guess you could say I really got into my work. I didn't just get dirty. I would get ground in, stinky, dirt in your hair, muddy, perhaps bloody Pigpen kind of dirty, the kind of dirty people notice. Anyway for some reason on this particular day I found myself in a grocery store pushing a shopping cart when someone asked me The Question. Really?
Another time I went into Walmart. I had taken off my nametag but I was still wearing my Kmart shirt. She asked me The Question and when I said no she argued that I was wrong. I think I would know...
And then there are the plant nurseries. I can't begin to visit a greenhouse without at least 5 people asking my opinion on a certain plant. This does not bother me at all because the reason I ever got into the plant trade at all was because I found at an early age I knew more about the plant in question than whoever is running the register.
Now here comes the funny part.
I was at a plant store.
I hang out at this particular store a lot and I am accustomed to being asked The Question there, I always reply "What do you need?" This time I had a question of my own. I asked the lady standing there and she went over to help. In the course of our conversation it was revealed that she did in fact not work there. I apologized. A woman nearby overheard our conversation.
She said: "Wait, I am sorry, do you two actually not know each other? I thought you were twins."
I looked at the other lady and saw a beautiful girl maybe 10 years my junior. She did not say anything. All I could think to say was: "I am flattered".
The quest for a new blog post led me to a Myers-Briggs personality type test. I have no idea if these tests are accurate, and I do understand that the online versions of the test are much shorter than the "real" test. The results of that test seemed to be fairly accurate on some things, but dead wrong on others, so I turned right around and took a different test, and then yet a third. I think I am done with tests for a while. Anyway, some of the questions were similar but worded differently. The results were identical. Therefore I hereby announce myself to be an ISTP - Introverted Sensing Thinking Perceiving.
It is not that I did not like the results. Thing is, anyone who knows me at all would not agree with this:
They are attracted to motorcycles, airplanes, sky diving, surfing, etc. They thrive on action, and are usually fearless.
I have always been a chicken and I am getting worse.
I will choose some of the traits I most agree with.
So what would you like to know? I already have a website for my job, a website for my last job, a website for the town I live in, one to talk about gardening and one to talk about Drupal which is what I use to build my websites. I would list them all here but I have a portfolio website for that and I can't link there because it is not ready.
I live in a small, rustic mountain cabin with my husband, son, two cats, two rabbits, two cockatiels. I drive a pickup truck.
So far, apart from the proofreading/spellchecking ones, the comments I have gotten about this blog have been about the navigation, and I can't really remember any of them being too positive. The point of this website is to make a statement about how I see the world, not only in the sporadic posts but also in the way the website is set to work. Thing is, except for maybe the front page, this layout would work really well for me. I bet I could put up a killer splash page or even something useful and everyone would be happy. At least until they clicked through.
I know, I know, everybody wants to know which posts are most recent, but for the life of me I can't understand why. Maybe someone can explain it to me. I know when I am reading someone's blog and I get through the first page I usually have a list of months to choose from. I don't want to read about last March, I want to hear some more about your cat. There is only one reason blogs work that way. The reason is because blog software works that way. It is a case of acceptance through familiarity. I expect more.
I know not this has turned into an about blog section, instead of an about me. Maybe I will fix that when I tweak the layout to make things a little easier for you while you are here. The portfolio comes first, though.