Very sad, right? Right. Well, it’s ok – because after 2 months of rehab and regular meals, she started looking much more like a dog again.

Incredibly friendly, with no reports of any aggression, we decided to take the plunge.

Today is day two – but I think we’re all adjusting well. As I write this, here she is next to me.

More to come, I’m sure.

My nemesis at this job was a woman named Severa (pronounced severe-uh). Severa did nothing but work the ice-cream counter and the register. Never in my days there did I see her do anything else. Severa was in her late 50′s, weighed about 250lbs, had a thick accent, and was blessed with a shrill, rattling voice. Though I worked every weekend, and had been given a name tag, she always referred to me as, “hey kid”. We did not get along.

I arrived at work on a particularly hot Saturday afternoon, some 8 months into the job. I came in the back door, finding the stock room chock full of foul, leaking garbage. It had clearly been left over from the night before, plus it appeared that not a bit of garbage collection or cleaning had been done during the AM. Severa waddled into the room as I was taking it all in and started with, “Hey kid – you have to take this out and bleach the room – then you do the front garbage..”

I know she went on further, but I don’t remember what she said. I looked at her and, screamed, “I quit”, walking out the back door. I kept walking all the way home. I think I had just taken off my name tag when I heard the back door open, and then turned to see my Mom come in. She stopped, confused.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”, she said.

“I quit”, I responded, looking for sympathy.

“Nuh uh…”

Now, I was 15, and already the better part of 6 feet tall. I was quite surprised at how well my mother was able to grab me by the wrist and pull me off balance. She more or less dragged me to her car, threw me in and slammed the door closed. She came around, pissed, but also close to tears – rarely had I ever seen her so angry at me.

“You can put in your two weeks notice if you want, but you finish what you started. You don’t just quit – ever!”

So Mom silently, shamefully drove me back to the ice cream/burger shop. I walked through the front door, apologized for walking out, turned in my notice, and started cleaning.

Oh, and I seem to have this work ethic thing that I can’t shake for the life of me.

Happy Mother’s Day Mom. I love you.

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To understand the correlation in very simple terms, too little beard can cause a sudden spike of freezing weather as March. Too much beard, can lead to uncertainty, and the weather simply stagnates just above freezing for weeks on end. If you want the full formula, you can copy it from here:

My weekly calculations today show that I have too much beard, and a reduction is required. I have reduced to a +4 margin of preparedness. Happy Spring everyone!

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My father sold hand-made children’s toys at shows and malls. Usually, selling was the easiest part of the business he ran. He worked hard (non-stop, actually); made good, polished pieces; and sold them for what they were worth. I remember specifically, an event in Denton, TX:

A woman came by and was admiring a wood puzzle with the name “Dustin” cut into the pieces (so kids can learn the letters of their name). I could tell, even at my age of 12, that she wanted it. But, she decided it was too much, so she began haggling with my father. Shortly there after, she became irate… telling my dad that it wasn’t worth what it cost, that it was, “cheap”, and he should give it to her for half price.

Her abuse stretched out to 15 minutes. I was ready to kick her for being so mean. My dad was ever-polite, but didn’t give her an inch. She became red faced and infuriated, and was beginning to make a scene. Just before she seemed as though she would go over the top, he reached over the table, and delicately took it out of her hands.

“I’m very sorry, it’s no longer for sale.”

He put it under the table and instructed me not to sell it to anyone. A few hours later, another woman, looking nervous and behaving strangely, came by and asked if we had a puzzle with “Dustin” in it. We didn’t have one for sale.

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