It was a great Saturday at work. I took on Asst man’s role of setting up end-cap displays. He was better at it than I am, but I’m okay and I like doing it— and seemingly no one else does.
Very cool box camera…
I set up a new Octobery book display too. Some ghosts, some knitting, some baking, pirate skull buttons, another shelfful too.
The most wonderful volunteer, Dalton, appeared on the heels of Asst Man’s departure last week, out of nowhere like Mary Poppins. She blew away the traces of his murk and set things right with her cheerful, no-nonsense efficiencies. I don’t agree with Big Boss who says the Holy Spirit sends the right people—the HS sends some right doozies too—but sometimes, yeah, it’s like…, How did this invigorating tonic appear, just as my soul was slumping?
Dalton is a buff, youngish Black woman. She doesn’t ask for permission, she engages her core and gets to work. I asked her if she’d been in the Marines. She laughed and said Big Boss asked that too. No Marines. Yes, rugby.
She worked all week in Asst Man’s old housewares-sorting area, which always looked like a hurricane had come through. At the end of her five days, it looked like a military storage area. Not only organized, but deep-cleaned.
She doesn’t actually care about thrift or know about vintage stuff, but for now I don’t care—I am in love; and the depth of my love for Dalton is a reflection of how sick and tired I’ve been of Asst Man’s blaming other people instead of thinking up solutions and DOING THEM without someone holding his hand or giving him a cookie.
We are the grown-ups. It is so so nice to work with one who knows that. She’s going to grad school in January so it’s only for a short time, but she’s just the booster I needed.
