shoes, shoes? WHOO. I'd be seven feet tall if I could wear those shoes. We got to chatting (surprise!) and come to find out the lovely Martha, from the pages of Vogue runs a livestock shelter. That's right, horses, cows, pigs et al! AND she runs a multi acre organic herb and vegetable farm to help finance the shelter. Amazing! So that is why she was looking for farm signs and mason jars! I didn't have EITHER in the store that day but I did have a vintage Hoosier chest that I donated to the barn where they sell the produce. And the beautiful Martha marched in with bare feet to haul it into her truck to haul it back to the farm. Whodathunk?
The next day this VERY tall, VERY BROAD shouldered man with neck tattoos, a braided goatee and heavy boots stepped over my threshold and started removing said boots. I told him there was no need (smiling as I thought of the barefoot farmer of the day before!) and he said "oh yes, indeed the boots needed to go!" He had apparently spent the better part of an hour the day before scrubbing down a bank he has sullied with his tar laden boots. Eek. As I and my trusty helpers had laid the laminate floor in the shop I REALLY appreciated his consideration. Padding up in his stocking feet B asked me if I had any perfume vials. After the normal, this one is too small, this is one is the wrong color and THIS one is "just right" he chose the heart shaped, sea blue one. Appropriate it turns out. Turns out our bug guy is a big romantic! After his wife said she'd love to take the sea home with her from her vacation our sneaky husband secreted some sea water and sand home from their holiday. He bought the perfume atomizer to seal the holiday feeling into a dresser memento! (we both agreed the reality might smell a bit, but isn't THAT life!) I declared him "romantic of the day!" and he told me more about his lovely wife. And the fact that she was an artist. Then he mentioned that he was an artist of sorts, a wordsmith. He had just finished his second novel! And then told me how he had time to think and write because he had burned out if his job of many years of working with troubled adolescents and come home one to day to the lovely wife and said "I am going to drive a truck". And so he did! I commented that all he had to be responsible for now was him and his load (this week? Asphalt!). This has obviously given him time to think and write. And ponder wonderful surprises for his assuredly lovely bride.
Everybody has a story. I love my job.
PS If you have any old canning jars that you'd like to donate to the animal sanctuary; bring 'em to me! Especially the blue ones...
