Friday...Whew

I made it.  Well, I made it TO Friday anyway, we'll see if I make it THROUGH Friday.  It was crazy at work yesterday.  I spent an hour not selling a BCD (Buoyancy Control Device, a diver's life jacket sort of thing) to a guy.  He's an engineer so he looks at every molecule of things, examines it closely, points out any design or construction flaws, debates size and color and fit.  I called one of the Instructors who owns a BCD like it and let them talk.  I looked it up on the Internet, found reviews, and read him a bad one and a good one.  I hooked up his tank and a rental reg so he could see how it felt that way.  I teased and cajoled and patted, told him how good he looked... and he's decided to think about it for a week.  *sigh*  So I put it aside with his name on it and threatened that I'd take away his discount if he didn't decide in that time.  Naturally we also got in 3 orders, nice big cartons of a lot of small items that take time to unpack, organize, put into the computer, tag, and put away.  Kind of like Christmas--but you don't get to keep any of it.  Then I had to bag up rental gear for a couple students going on their certification dives today and tomorrow.  I was happy to lock the door shortly after 5 o'clock, stop at Subway, and go to my knitting guild meeting for the evening.

Today I already know that a dad and daughter are coming in near closing time to try on and get fitted for a drysuit.  That means I'll be crawling around measuring strangers, putting my hands on parts of them that I probably shouldn't... oh well, I'm a nice woman, a mom, what could be icky about that?  Sometimes I feel like we should be going steady after customers like that.  They'd better not take an hour either; it's Friday Night Knitting and working until 7 o'clock makes me an hour and a half late--and hungry.  (Maybe I'll take extra food and make a lunch-ish supper so I save money and don't eat at 8 o'clock.  That's seldom good.)  I'm glad that all I have to do this weekend is mow the lawn and feed Porter so DS & DIL1 can have a run-away to Door Co. for the day.  They need the break; they both work too hard.
 
I asked DS how the chickens are when he and I spoke last night.  He said they're all molting so it looks like a pillow factory explosion in there, they're all crabby, and no one's laying eggs.  He said they're getting so low they may have to buy eggs.  Horrors!

September 13--Jean-Henri Riesener, Secretaire.  Chloe was sure that Grandpere's desk was the portal to a magical land.  It folded and closed so that it looked like a piece of furniture, like a place for linens, but it was painted black with gold decorations and pictures all over it.  On the door panels were birds and flowers, mountains, villages, and stags all looking like they had floated out of a fairy tale.  Chloe watched from behind the door when Grandpere opened the doors and lowered the desk.  Behind it were little drawers and cubbyholes that held papers and feathers and coins and stamps from all over the world.  There were lower doors that opened too but inside there it was black.  That was where she thought the entrance to the other world was.

I just realized that it's Friday the 13th.  (knock wood)  I was going to type "that can't be good" but, you know, I think it just might be a good day after all.  The sun's shining, the humidity went away, and the temperature is supposed to rocket up into the middle 60s.  Ahhh.  And I have to work indoors all day.  Wouldn't you know?  Later, dudes and dudettes.
--Barbara