I didn’t want to tell a mall construction story today. I would think by now you would be tired of reading them. Sadly, in this crazy life, somethings can’t be helped, I need to tell a mall story.
Sitting in a weekly safety meeting, I was told my men needed to be on their best behavior for the next couple days. Best behavior equates to; don’t make too much noise, don’t make too much dust; which in construction means don’t plan on doing very much work.
Corporate officers from that underwear store (you know the one) were scheduled to be in town to discuss the construction problems the mall was having. While the underwear execs were in town, we were asked to be clean and quiet.
Prior to working in the mall, I have never been in that underwear store. Frankly, I was shocked at what I saw.
I have always bought my underwear at stores that sold more than underwear. I like stores that sell tractors, fence posts and beef jerky, as well as underwear.
I want value for my money. When I buy underwear; the thing I look for is fabric. I was surprised how little fabric you get for your money at that underwear store. I can’t believe how much they charge for a tiny piece of fabric and a couple pieces of string. If I could offer this advice, go to one of the tractor stores and get some fabric and elastic for your money. Get some real value!
I think I might have strayed from my topic. I was going to talk about why the underwear execs were in town. It seems the execs were wanting to discuss the damage to their store and products caused by the construction crews.
The construction crews (not mine) were doing some work on the roof directly above the underwear store. Construction workers somehow damaged the roof. Last Friday’s rain/snow storm created a problem in the store. Water from the storm worked its way into the store dripping and sometimes gushing onto the sales floor, ruining the packaging of 130 pairs of that teeny-tiny underwear.
As if that wasn’t enough, a couple of workers welding above the underwear store allowed sparks to fall into the back store room of the underwear store, lighting the room on fire. Yep, that will bring the corporate underwear execs to town.
In spite of the mall, I have been dyeing yarn. There is some kind of yarn trade show coming to town this week. Every time there is a trade show Elaine and Ivy force me to dye a bunch of new yarn.
Elaine can’t get this trade show thing out of her system. This year is the first year in many years Your Daily Fiber will not be going to the Taos Wool Festival or the Estes Park Wool Market. I thought I had won a YEARS long battle by not going to anymore trade shows. Unfortunately, someone decided to have a trade show a few miles down the road. Guess what! Ol’ Monner’s dyeing yarn for the yarn show. Sorry, I might be off topic again.
Dyeing yarn comes with its own level of craziness. I need to make decisions of what colors to dye, I need to consider what fibers to use, Of course, then I have Ivy and Elaine second guessing me.
Elaine: Don’t you think we have enough greens, why aren’t you dyeing reds?
Ivy: That’s not sock yarn, that’ll never sell.
Me: Why don’t you guys text me, you would be easier to ignore.
As you can see, dyeing yarn is stressful. A big example of stress is, remembering to shut down the dye pots before we head for home. I can’t keep underwear packaging dry and smoke free while remembering to shut down the dye pots. Who could?
Ivy is pretty good at remembering. She uses little tricks like tying string around her finger. Those tricks don’t work for me. I can’t remember why I have string tied around my finger and throw the string away.
Due to Yarn Fest, we have been in a dyeing frenzy.In the past couple weeks we have had a problem remembering turning off the dye pots twice. The first time, Ivy was not in the store. Elaine and I drove the first 30 of 45 miles home before I uttered those terrible words, “Did you turn off the pots?”
Elaine: No, you did.
Me: I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have asked if I turned them off.
Elaine: What do you want to do?
Me: Well, we could burn down the store or turn around. I guess I will turn around.
Luckily, Ivy was behind us and had only driven 25 of the 45 miles. I found a reason to like my smart phone. I called Ivy and asked her to turn around.
When Ivy arrived at the store she found the pots on and about an inch of water in each pot that had not YET boiled out.
Last night at dinner, I asked Ivy if she remembered turning off the pots. I had noticed the pots were turned off when we left the store and was just wanting to tease Ivy. Ivy panicked.
Ivy: I think I turned them off.
Me: I think you did also.
Ivy: Are you sure?
Me: The pots were turned off.
Ivy: I don’t know if I turned them off, do you think you turned them off?
Me: Oh for gosh sake! I don’t know who turned them off, I know they are off.
Ivy: I’m going to town, I have to check!
I wish I hadn’t started the entire mess. Ivy grabbed Boy Twin and went to town. The dye pots were turned off just like I remembered. Ivy and Boy Twin stopped at the local drive-in restaurant before coming home. I don’t sleep when the kids aren’t home.
Ivy and Boy Twin are drinking cherry-limeades, Elaine is in bed, asleep.
I’m looking out of the window waiting for the kids to come home.
Sometimes we get what we deserve. I won’t do that again.
Our crazy lives!