happy Feb. 13th...

This only happens once  year. For which I am very thankful. I mostly tolerate my little jobette, go in and do what I know needs to be done, and go home. But for a couple of days each year, I don't really like it at all. It's that time: Valentine's Day.

The first time I ever experienced working in a retail floral shop on Valentine's  was so long ago, I won't admit to details. But I will tell you that I stood in one place for twenty four hours straight, and put dozens of roses in vases. I wish I could remember how much the one of the arrangements cost. Can't say for sure, but I do know it was jacked up to some ridiculous dollar amount for about a week, before rose prices reverted to 'normal'. And remember hearing someone say that they had called in an order for a dozen to some big city and the florist said the cost would be fifty dollars. This is back when minimum wage was less than five dollars an hour - so think about how long I'd have been working to make that amount??  In truth, the cost of a dozen roses today is probably cheaper than it was all those years ago - and today's price includes having to air freight the flowers from South America.

And after staying up all  night doing rose arrangements, we went home, showered, and went back to work. It's been so long, I was likely so young and crazy, it probably all seemed like fun, instead of misery. I guess figuring that if it only happens once a year, we would have plenty of time to get over the exhaustion. 

Not so bad today, but I wish I had been wearing a pedometer to know how far I walked, from the front of the store to the back. Never actually getting anywhere, but must have walked at least five miles  Not even in the top ten of the most fun I ever had, but - I do know that there will be fifty two weeks before it comes around again. So I can start resting on Saturday...

PS Today is my grandmother Rosa's birthday. And the day my dad wanted to get his new red-skinned potato seeds planted in his little garden spot in the backyard. So you could depend on having the leftover parts of the potato to eat on Valentine's day...part of the promise of spring.