Notes from the checkout ( aka raves from the checkout)

'Twas the weekend before Thanksgiving and hordes of shoppers descended upon the grocery store. I worked as fast as I could typing in codes, scanning items, bagging groceries, and handling money, all while fighting back pain--when whom to my wondering eyes did appear, an auditor with no case of beer. She had me ring up a basket of groceries and when it was time to pay she told me, "I'm an auditor, just void the items and put them back." She had also hidden some items that I didn't catch in a spot I'd never think to look and had never been told to look. I'm not telling what because I don't want to give anyone any ideas. Growl, way to ruin my already stressful day! Fortunately after that it was lunch time and I ran into the boss. He said not to worry about it; it wasn't on her report. Hmmm, maybe she was messing with my mind.

I had several nice customers and then came a lady with her school-age daughter. The daughter was unloading the shopping cart and I told her she didn't have to unload the giant box of heavy logs. I could get the code. The lady snapped, "I'll handle my daughter." I replied that I had just spoken to her daughter the same way I would speak to any adult. I don't want them to hurt their back or mine. Growl! I was in trouble for treating a child like a human being.
It's going to be a long holiday season. Thanks to Clement C. Moore, I think. There's a controversy over who wrote the lines I borrowed from Night Before Christmas.

Retreat time

It is time for my yearly three-day retreat close to the anniversary of my father's death. It is a time to mourn and remember, a time to pray and to write. The sky darkens early and the light from the sun is muted. Here in Seattle the rainy season arrives. I went to church today and sat before the crucifix where God has answered my impossible cause prayers many times. He has brought me healing in both mind and relationships, impossible causes. Now I remember my father and pray about my current intentions. They seem hopeless to me but God has helped me time and time again. I'm not going to go in detail here because I don't want the family I am worried about to be easily identifiable. Suffice it to say that there is a young family in deep trouble and I cannot by my love carry them out of danger. I wish that love would be enough but I can change no one. I can't believe for anyone else. I can't seek mental health help for anyone else. I cannot take the father of this family and rock him and make it all better like I could when he was a baby and I watched him while his parents were at work. He is an adult now with adult choices. He has to live with the consequences of his own behavior. But then...there is the cross and the one who hears my prayer.