The Grass is Always Greener Over the Septic Tank

April is the cruelest month..

T.S. Eliot

We tripped, fell, sprained an ankle, and landed in April. The last time that I put pen to paper I was working for a storage unit complex selling empty space. I use the word “selling” loosely as I simply gave it away. Did you know that you can barter for the rate of a 5×10 ft space? That is right, ask me what my best price is, and I will stutter and stammer and give you the world for a dime. My Manager hated me with good reason, that reason being that I was the worst salesperson to ever peel out in his golf cart with a terrified perspective client clinging to the arm rest in the passenger seat. I have got disc locks and boxes aplenty, I have got whosits and whatsits galore, you want packing tape? Take twenty.

My plan to take over the storage unit industry by storm and spend the rest of my days swimming in a pool of gold coins unfortunately did not come to fruition. Fortunately, I saw a job posting seeking an assistant manager at a newly opened farm and feed store in town. This was much more my speed as although I have zero experience with the three main business components of farm, feed, and lumber, I have a knack for assisting managers. This fake it until I make it mentality led me to my current position of store manager after 3 months with the company. Let us talk about spruce vs pine and the prices of plywood or the shortage of fence boards. Ask me how to treat mastitis in your goat or the best method to teach Algebraic equations to your cat. I can go on all day.

While I was once again teeter tottering on the corporate ladder, Jesse was busy as well.  Jesse stumbled into a government job doing what he does best, maintaining. He maintains his cool, maintains his good looks, and performs routine maintenance when the situation calls for it.  I try not to get too jealous as he is regularly interacting with baby gators, wayward tortoises, and overweight calico cats.  On his days off all of Jesse’s time was invested in completing a remodel on our small home which we listed on Thanksgiving eve and sold Thanksgiving Day.

Now we have come full circle and are living in a new home in the same old town where this story first began. Our house is smaller, but our land is larger, because if we learned anything during the past three years it is not the size of the house that counts, it is what you do with the land that you are on, and I can do a lot with 10 acres. Our family has grown by 8 sets of talons and 4 paws, we are getting back to the basics in a complicated way. The chicks were a planned adoption, but the puppy is another story. A customer brought in a 6-week-old mess of teeth and fur that she claimed was given birth to by “a cross between a German Shepherd and Coyote”. I immediately pulled rank and brought him home to a very confused and surprised husband. Gryffin is now 3 months old and 40lbs of love and chaos.

This catches you up to the sad part of my story, the part where covid-19 took a huge piece of our lives from us.  You never really take things seriously or think that they will affect you personally until it happens to someone that you love.  We looked at the pandemic as a minor inconvenience, we washed our hands and wore our masks and considered ourselves invincible. We read sad stories of loss and hardship and counted our blessings that we were safe in our bubble.  This illusion carried us until last week when we got the call that we thought we never would, “Your father-in-law has covid and it’s not looking good”. We were still in denial up until the end, up until the call that we would not be able to rescind.  If you are reading this, I implore you to get vaccinated, if not for yourself than for your family, friends, and neighbors.  You may not end up in the hospital with Covid, your symptoms may be mild or none at all, but then you may transmit it to someone’s dad.  This person’s father may not have the immune system that you flaunted or the strength you flexed, this person may end up in the ICU with double pneumonia and may not walk out.

This past year has been a blur of unfortunate situations, flawed coping mechanisms, and mayhem. We are working hard to focus on the little things because the big things are far too big to comprehend. It is spring and the flowers are blooming, a guy let me in with a wink during bumper-to-bumper traffic, I told a joke and the punchline landed perfectly, the phone broke but it meant no more bad news. I hope that you too can find the little things, the pin pricks of light in the dark, the smile on the edge of the frown. Jesse got me a smart watch for Christmas, and it asks me to stop and breathe a lot, I get frustrated and say “not now” but I think it is the best advice that I have ever had. Remember to breathe.