Well Worth The Wait

Life is simple, just hasn't been easy for over half a decade.

Now I know why.

We (Tim and I) felt like failures for quite a while.

 Now know was just to teach us what we needed to learn. Never take anything for granted and be grateful for what you have.

We have amazing family which extends to include my sibs, friends old and new and a network of peeps (some of) we've never even met.

When you're really down you're down but luckily (thanks to your bad luck) only have one way to go.

UP.

So up we went, slowly but surely.

They've had our backs and  have our love and humble thanks. I'd hate to put a price tag on it but is certainly well into the thousands. Little by little we've started to pay not back but forward.

To have family and friends is priceless and exactly what got us to this point of moving ahead.

I've been blessed with a phenomenally great job which catapulted us back into the black within twelve months and haven't looked back once.

I married a man who after decades of providing for us on his own had to move a thousand miles away from us to keep us together... and did just that.

I remained here with our kids and dogs and kept the home fire he provided from a thousand miles away burning for almost two years.

He's as tall as I am short. He's as quiet as I am loud. My spirit animal is a Tasmanian Devil, his is a Sloth.

After five years of nothing but bad luck, bad news and cut off notices (I) began to point out and sometimes (loudly) verbalize everything wrong and was usually (most always) about him or choices he'd made during our financial scramble. None of it was totally his blame but surely couldn't be mine.

Sometimes a thousand miles is a good buffer zone. I'm not sure who enjoyed it more but most certainly has to be him. I can be (and may have been) a real bee-otch.

He came home maybe three times for short two or three day visits and once for a week. We fought or argued each and every visit,  always instigated by my spirit animal but also always hugged and kissed goodbye, instigated by his.

Tim has done amazingly well and excelled beyond belief with his new job and company. My new job may have propelled us forward but his is quickly guaranteeing us the future we've always dreamed of having.

If you truly love someone, never count them out. Simply trust that you can count on  them.

Fast (albeit slowly) forward six years and look at us now!

Not too bad for two (worn slap out) ole folks who started and met in the lower middle, had twenty years of upper middle class comfort then deflated as quickly as a party balloon.

 Come November our house here will be paid off and come October will be living together again in our new (not chosen yet) home in Orlando.


I've been here, with everything we love and have known. He's gone out there, with the unknown to let me stay here.

I'd say we're approaching the polishing  stage in our marriage and consider it quite an accomplishment.

I finally realized, after almost cutting my finger tip off in the process  and not stopping to say "I need help" may sometimes be a sign that sometimes you do  need help.

Four weeks later not only is my finger healing but my marriage as well.

The first cut is the deepest.

Til next time and looking forward to much more...

COTTON

The Gift

I know I couldn't... especially after having the one I've had for almost fifty six years.

Massey looks about four in the above picture which makes my sister almost fifty.

Not too shabby for a half centurion back then and dangit still looks better than me now.

So she was turning sixty three this month and wanted to do something special for her, just didn't know what.

She's been not only my sister but my "Momistor". That's when your mother dies when you are seventeen, only have an older sister left as a female role model and they knock it out of the park... for almost forty years.

She'll kill me for the above photo, both bare faced with no make up on but that's the way I think of us, real people.

Our pastry chef at work came in one day back at the beginning of the year with the cutest sling tote on, totally Reggae.

My sister carries a knapsack around with her. Granted it's a nice one my brother let her have when we were visiting him one year in Orlando, but still...

They were about twenty bucks so gave Ms. Connie (our pastry chef) money for two of them. She agreed to get one for me and one for my sister. It was such a cool bag, hung low on the hip and had pockets on the straps and front for cell phone, keys and inside was compartmentalized as well with different pockets. My sister is OCD and this bag was right up her (always neatly organized) alley.

I knew she deserved so much more than a twenty dollar gift, especially being related to me. I've been a trainwreck for years but she's always been right there by the tracks to help me up again.

So being a server who (if lucky) brings home cash after every shift, started tossing in one dollar bills after getting home. I stuffed the cell phone pocket first, then the wallet and key pocket. By this point was up to twenty bucks and had only been doing it for a couple of weeks. I crumpled all the bills up like tissue paper, hoping would fill it faster.

I really didn't even have to.

My son and daughter (after learning what I was doing) also started tossing in a little every now and then.

By the end of February we were up to two hundred dollars. By the middle of March, Spring Break hit the international terminal and some nights made enough money I'd throw in a twenty. One night I made over four hundred dollars and tossed in a fifty. Before I knew it, the Masters tournament was approaching and (lucky for me) a server lost their job for being a total incompetent (idiot). I picked up at least four extra shifts in addition to my own five and raked in money like I was raking leaves in a small flat yard with a really good rake.

When we counted last, a couple of days before her birthday were up to over four hundred. It was the greatest feeling in the world being able to do something for someone who has done so many things (selflessly) for so many others.

Without my sister, I wouldn't be me.

 I may not be the best person on earth but definitely a better person because of her.

 Who'd ever think at the age of my almost fifty six years ...we're all we have left?

Kudos go to having awesome parents!

 Both left way too early but impacted and directed our lives all for the better and thank goodness all three of us kids were observant and good listeners.

The above is one of my favorites. Definitely in the sixties and taken with my sister's Polaroid swinger camera.  Over two decades in and still in love. That kitchen, those people and that house are what made you a Leach or made you love one.

It's been a long and winding road since the sixties but with a brother and sister on each side of me like Cindy and Chris have had everything I've ever needed.

I think I'm the one who has gotten the greatest gift of all.

Our veiny hands growing old together. At least Cindy's (on the right) had a smashed thumb in this one. Guess I slashed my finger last week to one up her.

Live outside the touch of time, because time doesn't matter. Love does.

Til next time... COTTON

Mass Exodus

I got to work today at one thirty, seemed slow...for about five minutes. I usually do side work for about thirty minutes before going on the floor.

Not today!

Everyone had found their way back to the airport in Atlanta after the Masters tournament ended in Augusta yesterday.

It started with a table of seven, at about one forty and didn't slow down until well after nine o'clock. I just did my side work when I could and kept on taking tables. I sold close to $2000 on a Monday afternoon shift. Eighteen percent is added to every check and made over a hundred extra in cash.

Most Excellent!

It's a good thing we're moving to Orlando at the end of the summer because I'd never willingly quit this job and would most surely be the early death of me. The parking is a nightmare, sometimes just getting to the restaurant is work itself and always always have to leave for work with at least thirty minutes to spare, just in case. Traffic in Atlanta is miserable at best.

My digit is coming along well and have been able downsize the bandage each day. I gave the ole wagger a workout today, that's for sure. I'm still paranoid when I have to cut bread but am getting pretty good polishing glasses and silver with nine fingers.

 I waited on a cute younger couple just returning from Costa Rica this afternoon. The woman asked me if I'd cut my finger? I said "No, I mangled it slicing a loaf of bread". She asked me how many stitches so I told her the doctor I never went to see said it'd probably be okay with four rolls of tender tape, two tubes of Triple Anti B, three boxes of gauze and lots of prayer. She asked why I didn't go to the hospital and acted like I was crazy (although she may be right) when I mentioned it was Master's week both coming and going at the airport.

The husband chuckled and said "Good call on your part". The wife kinda laughed too but probably because of that third glass of Hartford Pinot Noir. Every single one of my tables were wonderful, delightful people and  guests. It was a server's utopia.

Like the stupid but smart person I am, brought my first aide kit so I could clean and dress my digit again after the shit show (what we call a wide open wild eyed shift). I used all the gauze and tape out of the kit at work the first night I cut it.

I was in the back soaking my digit in a tiny jar (under three ounces to get through security) of hydrogen peroxide for about five minutes. Several co workers mentioned how much better it looked.

It's a good thing none of them saw it when I first cut it because was surely a prize winner and definitely one for the record books.

This is what looking better looks like.

I'm going to Orlando this upcoming weekend to visit Tim. I'm thinking holding hands is off the table.

I got really lucky and knocked it out of the park these past two weeks so am sneaking out of town on Saturday afternoon after a day shift and driving to Orlando. Staying all day Sunday and driving back early Monday for work that afternoon. Not really a relaxing trip but going to look at houses and have found three I really really like.

It's amazing, with Tim's new job and  promotion and me with two years of a phenom job at home can afford to purchase a pretty nice home in Orlando. We're not going crazy but going comfortable.

We had a fifteen year mortgage on our house here so are used to a higher payment. We'll start out with a thirty year in Orlando and if The Big Guy continues to bless us will switch to a fifteen in a year or two.

It's getting real folks.

Til next time, COTTON

A Hole In One

What a week.

What an awesome, exhausting but satisfying week...and I don't even play or watch golf.

I've been a horrible mother, wife and sister in law this past week and had so much going on,  almost caved under the (blood)pressure but it's done now and think (hope) they all will still love me.

I think the only thing I've cooked this past week was toast in the toaster, and only once. I've been preoccupied twentyfour/seven this past week, worrying my slash job would affect my ability to do my real job. I didn't let anybody see it for about five days, it was that bad.

I'd get one of the kids to help me wrap it after I already had a gauze covering the crime scene. In hindsight was the worst decision I ever made to continue working and not go straight to the ER.  I refused to leave, worried about losing an entire shift's worth of money and dreaded sitting in an ER for what I know (from experiences similar to this hack job) would be at the very least five or six hours.



I nearly cut off the tip of my index finger off  and is still hard to look at when cleaning (three times a day).  When I whacked my digit, was at work so wrapped it finished the entire shift and have been back every day since, to the tune of an almost seventy hour work week.

It took me until this very morning to even convince myself  that it'd be okay and would still have ten digits.

 The bleeding stopped on day three and seems to be healing up okay, although I can kiss that "Hand Model" career goodbye.

I can't wait for them to try and get a finger print from this digit next time I go for a background check for my badge renewal at the airport.

It's bruised down to the knuckle but still have circulation and feeling all the way to it's mangled tip so a week later,  have declared myself officially "Okay... almost eighteen hundred dollars ahead and have a new freak show finger for a conversation piece if a party ever gets dull."

That's a win/win if I ever heard one!

 I got extremely lucky (with constant cleaning, praying and treating) considering  almost cut my finger in two but think it will heal all on it's own now with the proper (me) care.

I survived the end of Spring Breakers, Masters Peeps, totally rocked every shift and finally had a day off to heal...mentally and physically.

It's finally resembling a finger tip again and can use my left hand a bit more without cold chills when remember cutting it. I still can't do yard work and inside of the house needs both hands too.

I've taken enough chances this past week, trust me.

I realize I am not right in the head a lot of the time and been blessed beyond belief with some of the calls I've made over the years.

Like when I slipped on a beach towel in the kitchen letting the dogs in from rain and fell headfirst into the kitchen table splitting the side of my head open. I figure if I could survive that could survive anything.

Maybe I'll be smarter when I'm fifty six, that's just a hop jump skip down the road from now.

Look forward to keep on keeping on for as long as my luck keeps up but wouldn't change one single thing about the past if I could.

It's what defines me.

"Definition" as per Webster's:

"A statement conveying fundamental character".

That's my life.

You know what?

I've had one of the luckiest lives anyone's ever had and grateful for every step, stumble and fall along the way.

You know what else?

I'm thinking there's a reason of all these funny women I admire are so Spot On.

Laughter is the best medicine.

Counting my blessings and luckily still ten digits.

Til next time....COTTON

Ending With a Bang

Oh I been doing me some jumping lately!

Work has been (and keeps me) insanely busy these days. It's about all I have time for besides cutting the yards every ten days or so. The kids have been helping me with the yards since we're still in push mowed (small pun).

 Ole Johnny Dear survived his successful forty dollar surgery and his doctor gave him six more years to live. He's in rehab waiting for his decking to be reattached and by next week I'll be sitting pretty again.

This past week has been redunkulous. We lost a server (totally good riddance) at work and his schedule had to be covered (not that he did) so when asked by management, snatched up two of his shifts in addition to my own five.

I made more money the past week than I ever have, since landing at the airport job. Spring Break is in full tilt. The Masters is an awesome gift and have summer vacation right around the corner followed by the Olympics in late July.

If I have to quit this job, what an awesome way to go out!

I can honestly and with conviction say have reached the pinnacle of my serving career working at the airport. Who would ever think after thirty six years of serving I had so much to learn?

But learn it I did, mostly thanks to this manager.

I started out terrified of  but ended up grateful to him. I used to think I was a pretty good server, maybe even a great server but learned in about the first five minutes of training with him that I had a lot to learn.

I think after almost two years of putting the skills I learned from him (a few honed) into action with every single table and every single customer, has changed me into what I now consider myself to be; a pretty awesome server. 

Is it sad I brag about that?

Hell to the No!

I've earned every stripe and star I have on my imaginary server uniform sleeve, earned the hard and honest way and actually feel like I do have bragging rights.

I've been socking money away into savings, all bills are paid early with enough to spare and even allows me to pay a few small things forward.

Trust me, working over fifty hours a week (at the age of a skinny fifty five) in the crazy house of  the world's busiest airport tends to be draining both physically and mentally but the payoff is incredible and makes it well worth it...especially knowing you have a window to escape through.

I was devastated when I mangled my finger. Panicked when I thought I may have to miss a few hours of work and maybe even a finger too.

It wasn't pretty and once again (in hindsight) was a bad call on my part for not having it stitched up but haven't regretted  pushing through shift after shift after shift either, with my  ET digit.

I've never met or known a server who brings home the kind of money I do, unless they take their clothes off ( kudos to them) but don't think a lot of peeps want to even visualize me without the extra pounds my clothes add.

Today was the first day I felt comfortable about my mangled digit. Been keeping it cleaner than a Donny Osmond concert and can finally change the bandage without wanting to throw up.

That's progress!

Me in a  nut shell. 

Two years ago I was in a nut basket.

I'm grabbing every day left here in Georgia and (but) will leave the state knowing my job here is done.

My crazy eclectic clan will finally be back together after two years and my sister and her family will always be welcomed (and urged) to join us.

Gotta go to bed now, still have two shifts left to work and luckily still ten digits.

Til next time... COTTON