A Calendar For The New Year

This morning I woke up waaayyyyyy too early. When I got up out of bed to see what time it was I was not happy. On the way I stopped for a moment to look out my bedroom window expecting to see nothing but grey. But it wasn't grey! It was a magnificent winter sunrise! The sky was unbelievable! All colors of intense pinks and reds filled the sky as backdrop to the tall, barren oak trees that had looked so cold and bleak just yesterday against the unending November greyness of this place.
All I could think was, 'Wow! That's gorgeous! I should get my camera! Wow! That's really beautiful! I should get the camera but I'm just so tired! I just want to sleep for a little while longer!' And with that I crawled back into bed for another couple hours.

When I finally did get up I was still tired and I was still depressed about my sucky job and the sucky weather and the sucky everything about my new life here in Minnesota. It was my first day off after a long, miserable week at work. I wanted coffee and I wanted it NOW! I threw on some jeans and walked to a nearby convenience store for a cup of instant warmth for my tired bones. When I got there the lady behind the counter was much too chipper. She wanted to talk. I didn't.

Six weeks ago I took a part time minimum wage job as a deli worker in a grocery store. I had never worked food service before and I thought it would be fun while I looked for another, better job. I can deal with the late afternoon/evening hours, the heavy physical work and the ugly uniform. But the job is just not fun. In fact, it's a chaotic nightmare. Three people have quit since I've been there all for the same reasons. I've only stayed because I didn't want to give up the few local connections I had made or quit the job without another one to go to.
This last week I finally had had enough. Things had gone from very bad to very worse. At one point I had a big 'aha moment' when I finally realized that I had spent a large part of my life turning myself upside down and inside out in order to work for the big money. I didn't need to do that any more. Especially not for a part-time, minimum wage job.

On Thursday I called the printing business across the street from the building I live in to see if they might have an opening for a worker. (Thoughts of having to drive home at 11pm in a snow storm were nightmares all their own!) I left a message on the manager's voice mail and he called back and left a message for me to stop by for the application. The business is housed in a large white painted wood building that looks like it might have once been an old hotel. My landlady works there and says it's a mellow, happy place. My daughter, Erin, has done a lot of business with them and has said only good things. I wanted the job but the thought wasn't real for me.

So, anyway, this morning with coffee in hand and gloom surrounding me, I made the decision to go in the front of the building so that I wouldn't have to see or talk to anyone. I just wanted to be alone with my coffee and my funk. That was all I thought about or wanted. I was trudging up to the door when I saw a man standing with some sort of tools outside the printing office across the street.
Please understand, I've just moved here from Southern California and in the neighborhood where I used to live we watched out for each other. Anytime there was someone strange hanging around someone's house when they weren't home we would stand watch to make sure the stranger knew they were seen and could be identified.
It was Sunday morning and the printing business appeared to be entirely closed down so I watched this man as he stood outside their door. Then he was watching me watch him! I didn't give in, though, I kept my end of the vigil until I reached the door.
I had put my coffee down and was fishing in my pocket for my keys when I heard the stranger's voice call over from behind me, "Would you like a calendar?"
'What??' I thought. I turned around and said, "Excuse me?!"
"Would you like a calendar?" he asked again.
I surprised myself when I called back, "Sure!"

I picked up my coffee and headed across the street with my mind jumbling through the thoughts 'Oh, My God! What am I doing?? I have no idea who this guy is! Remember -- this is small town Minnesota, it's not California! I don't have to go into the building. He'll go in, get the calendar, and bring it back out. Wait a minute -- he's probably just being friendly! After all, this is Minnesota, it's not California!'
"Come on in!" were his words when I got there.
I must have had my 'ooooops' look in my eyes because he smiled as he held the door open and continued, "We've got a man here at the press this morning because we're working on a special project."
'Okay,' I thought following him in, 'this is Minnesota, it's not California!'

Once inside, he seemed to be headed to a counter when he stopped to ask, "Have you ever been in here?"
As casually as I could I replied, "No, but I picked up an application to work here just yesterday. I said I'd bring it back tomorrow early." By this time my mind was in full panic mode, 'Oh, man! I said that and didn't bother to brush my hair or my teeth before I left to get the coffee! No make-up! Geez! I'm wearing my grubbiest tenny-runner shoes and jeans!!'
He didn't acknowledge that I had said anything. He just sort of changed direction and said, "Come on, I'll show you around."
And then he gave me the cook's tour. He showed me the different kinds of processes that are being used and explained the different presses and machines. He was kind of excited to show me how orders were now coming in from all over the world.

I still had no idea who he was. I figured he was about my age or a little older, very fit with a kind face. He appeared to be a really nice guy who loved what was going on there and that he belonged there. It wasn't until towards the end of the tour when I asked how long the place had been in business that I got the answers.
He turned to me, his expression very serious and said, "I started this business in my garage in 1985."
"Wow!" was all I could say. He smiled then, probably because he saw my jaw drop.
He reached over to the counter and grabbed a couple of calendars. He handed them to me and asked how soon could I start.
Again surprised, I said, "Soon. I'm bringing in the application tomorrow morning."
"Good!" he said. "Bring it in early!"
With that I took my coffee home.

Later in the afternoon I talked with my daughter, Mira, who said, "Mom, I keep telling you that you have to start a blog!! You have to start writing this stuff down! Get those stories out there! Think of it as an online journal!"
'Well, hmmmm. . . It's a thought,' thought I. But I really didn't want to think about it.

After we said goodbye I picked up the calendar and looked through it. There it was, the photo for November. Mt. Tallac at Lake Tahoe. It's shot as though you're standing in an old, falling apart shack looking through the window. I had lived in Tahoe for twenty five years and that mountain was my old friend. Never took it for granted. It was always there as my source for inspiration and comfort during hard times.
And then I knew I had seen the fingerprint on my day and on my journey.
So. Here we are.
Namaste'