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Sunday, July 24, 2022

The Wrong Choice


 4 Things I NEVER wanted to know . . .that our bears around here know all too well...


1. A half full dumpster is a meeting place for all the flies living in a five county area. 
2. The smell inside a dumpster is absolutely putrid. 
3. A dumpster is NOT a place you want to hang out for more than the amount of time it takes to throw your plastic garbage bag into it from 3 feet away. 
4. If you must throw trash into one, I learned NEVER, EVER look to see what is inside!!

I reluctantly learned these 4 things first hand yesterday because
I HAD to go dumpster diving. 

After I closed up the shop, on Friday night I threw our one small plastic bag of trash in the dumpster. Yesterday as I was looking around the store to see what I had to restock, I noticed we were low on felt purses. So, I go to our storeroom to find them. We had just bought 20 of them at market the week before so I knew that they couldn't have been buried too deep in the room. 

I search and search for them to no avail. I go back to the counter and it hits me! We had carried the felt purses home with us from market in a purple plastic bag. And last night I threw away a purple plastic bag that was under the counter thinking it was trash! OH NO! The purses were in the dumpster with my trash!! 

Okay...I had 2 choices... I could decide to just throw away 100s of dollars of purses and stay clean and smelling fresh for the day, or I could suck it up and dig them out of the dumpster??? Not really a choice, right? 

So, I went dumpster diving. (It brought me back to middle school days and the horror of accidentally throwing my retainer away in the lunchroom trashcan! UGH the agony of it!!). 

Looking inside the dumpster, I first check to make sure there were no bears in there. This task was bad enough, so I didn't want to make it worse by startling a hungry bear!  

I could see a mountain of garbage bags as well as rotting food scraps from the Vietnamese Restaurant, but no bears. I knew my small plastic bag was buried deep underneath all that putrid mess.  

I pulled as many trash bags over to the side as I could reach...leaning my head and stretching my hands into the stinky, disgusting dumpster. I couldn't see my bag. 

So I sheepishly sought out the manager of the shopping center to beg for his help. Sweetly, Dan agreed. He handed me a crowbar and he got a long metal pipe(so we could dig!) He stood at one sliding door of the dumpster and I at the other and we took our digging tools and got to work. Sweat mixed with stink and rotten food clung to our clothes, hair and skin. But, finally, after 15 minutes of pure torture, I found my little plastic garbage bag and the purple bag next to it. 

With jubilation in my voice I screamed, "I found it, Dan!!" and proceeded to pull the bag out with my crowbar from underneath several heavy bags of trash. The purple plastic bag was right there with the trash bag. But to both our dismays, the purple bag was flat, soaked in some kind of brown liquid and empty. NO PURSES!! We were both disappointed. Agony and perhaps a little bit of anger was on Dan's face. 

I thanked Dan profusely and went back to my shop with my head hanging low praying for a stiff breeze. How awful to go through hell and back and not even find the purses. 

Reeking with smells of fish and slop and who knows what else, I sat down to think. Then I remembered... we had stored other purses in a cabinet below their display, perhaps my sister put them there?? Opening up the cabinet I found them lying neatly in a pile. I was relieved.

I gave Dan one of the purses for his wife as a thank you for helping me. I imagine he wasn't too delighted with my gift.

Towards the end of the day, one customer, a tourist, was standing at the counter with her credit card, about to pay for one of those dang felted purses when she raised her prominent chin and rather pointed nose to the ceiling, took a big whiff and said to me, "Is there a horse barn nearby?" 

"No, no there is no horse barn around here." I answered as I swatted at a pesky fly that seemed to be circling my head. 

One last thing I learned . . . I made the wrong choice.

                   Marcee Corn is a best-selling multi-genre author of four books and short     stories.  Find all her books on Amazon or on her website: Marcee Corn Author website

Tuesday, June 28, 2022

A Serendipitous Moment

I was on my way to The Mast Store down in the valley to buy a new pair of sandals to replace the ones that Tucker had chewed up. It was a cool day so I had all the windows in the car down. I was enjoying my slow curvy drive as I made my way down the mountain when I came around a sharp curve and spotted a man standing on a rise in a tiny church graveyard. I assumed that he was visiting someone buried there, when I heard the distinct sound of bagpipes. The fellow, seemingly at attention, was playing them as he stood in amongst the tombstones there. About the time I was questioning exactly what I was witnessing, I rounded the next bend in the road and the unusual scene was gone. Did the man have on a kilt? I didn't notice. But what I did notice was the amazing music he played and the solemnness of a special moment.



 

Sunday, April 3, 2022

Good Morning my Fickle Friend

                                     

                                    

Monday, February 14, 2022

The Jokester


Today was it - the dreaded “Cleaning out of the refrigerator” Day. Not something one really wants to do on Valentine’s Day. It’s definitely not romantic! In fact, it is an absolutely horrible job.
  I force myself to do it every 3-4 months out of necessity. I had stretched it to almost 5 months this time. Too long! 

Today, my trashcan collected expired sour cream that about knocked me flat out when I opened the lid, a couple of green peppers hidden in the back of the drawer that had grown a nice head of white hair, and a multitude of salad dressings that had mutinied and taken over the entire refrigerator! Most times the shelves have sticky muck on them- who knows what THAT is – but it clings to the shelves like some kind of gross glue!

 

My in – house comedian walks through the kitchen today as I have my head crammed all the way in the back of the top shelf scrubbing up the ‘said’ sticky stuff that is now not only stuck to the shelf but to my hair as well and says, as he ALWAYS does whenever the refrigerator doors are open, “So, Marc, are you trying to cool the entire house down?” I can’t see his face but I know he is smiling. He thinks this is a funny joke and he loves to ‘poke the bear’. 

 

When one has their head crammed in a very tight place doing a much-hated job, on Valentine’s day nonetheless, NOTHING is funny- ESPECIALLY a ‘joke’ that you have heard about a million times over for all these many years of marriage. But when the ‘not so funny’ joke comes from a jokester that is the love of your life, you stop scrubbing, slowly shake your head, and smile because after all, it IS Valentines Day and he IS the love of your life. 

Friday, February 4, 2022

I am a Storyteller


I love antiques. I love books. I have quite a few dusty old books in my antique shop. There is something quite mysterious and exhilarating about blowing away the dust on the cover and carefully opening the fragile pages to read the words upon them. Old books have a certain aroma about them- musty, stale and earthy. I like that scent. But the most exciting part of any book, whether written in the 1700s or penned today, are the stories within.

 

For twenty-eight years, I taught elementary students from Kindergarten through Sixth grade. Because of my love of stories, I would spend the last 15 minutes of most days, sitting in a circle on the floor with my students, telling them a story. It quickly became their favorite time of the day. And mine as well. I adored watching their unfettered faces as the suspense grew within the story, and they reacted to the events surrounding a beloved character. It was priceless. 

 

When I retired from teaching, I no longer had an outlet for telling stories, so I started writing them down. It was more for my own benefit then anything else. I grew to love the written word as much as I had the spoken word. 

 

Although, I cannot see the faces of my readers of my stories today, I still love the process of telling the story. And on the occasion that I receive an email, or a comment, or a review of one of my stories/books, I find it priceless.


Sunday, January 30, 2022

Just sayin'

I absolutely love living in the mountains, with its quiet snowfalls, icy cold air, and cozy fires, BUT sometimes, just sometimes, my mind wanders and dreams of the wildness of the sea as it crashes on the shore, the warmth of the sun as I lounge on my beach chair, and even the sticky wet sand as it clings to my bare feet.

Just sayin'.


Thursday, January 6, 2022

Find Joy in Your Journey



Parts of 2021 might go down in the books as one of my hardest years emotionally. My sister lost her husband to complications from COVID in November. We had to close our small business in March for over a month due to losing our lease; as our landlord found a tenant that was willing to pay twice our rent. That came after 2019 when we were forced to shut our business down for 6 weeks due to COVID restrictions.  So I am a bit weary, as I am sure many of you are.

As we all are thrown into 2022 with COVID still around, I contemplate what my journey for 2022 might look like. I have a destination in mind. I have prayed about that destination. And I have a clear picture of where my journey might take me. But I realize that sometimes that destination ‘has to’ or ‘will be’ altered for various reasons, as it was in 2021. I may end up in a totally different place by the end of December 2022 then where I set my sites on today. And that is okay. 

 On my journey of life, there have always been ups and downs. But there is one certainty that I do know and it has become my personal mantra, “Find JOY in my journey, wherever or in whatever direction it takes me.” 

 

“Find joy in your journey” is a catchy phrase; easy to remember, but sometimes hard to do. The word, “find” means to seek, to search for, or to discover. It is an action verb. It requires me do something. 


So as we all move into 2022 together, I challenge you and me and anyone reading this post to actively search for and find joy each and every day. Perhaps it might be in something as small as in the beauty of that unique snowflake that lands on your jacket, or in the contagious laugh of a baby in a highchair at the table next to you. 

 

If we seek joy, we will find it. And as a result, I believe that we will end this year happier people and we will enjoy our journey in 2022, wherever it may take us.