after working...

... all day, I got in my car and drove for four hours to get to the southern edge of TN. Arriving about seven o'clock, after a long day of busyness. With plans to spend the night and day on Wed., return home to be back at work on Thursday.

My co-worker, M., who is very dependable, reliable and always on the job, (but not on the schedule due to working on Sunday when he is usually off) so I spent most of my working hours trying to get floral area put to rights. Mother's Day sales were excellent, to the point of completely depleting nearly every stem-leaf-cut-flower in the store. There were a few plants left, either shabby looking or with blooms not yet opened, but otherwise it looked like Egypt after the locust plague whirred through, stripping every green thing bare.

To replenish the dearth of blooms, boxes and boxes of cut flowers came from the warehouse, in sleeves for display, needing to have stems cut and put out in buckets for grab-and-go sale. A goodly number of small bouquets, in bud vases and other containers, pre-arranged, to be put in the reach-in cooler for customers to pick up ready-made arrangements. Cartons and cartons of plants to replace all those we normally have on display but were gobbled up by patrons who knew not to go visit auntie, grandma, or baby-mama empty-handed on a day set aside to celebrate motherhood.

Oddly enough, I seemed to be the only one on Saturday and Sunday who was thinking ahead int Monday, and what would happen over the weekend. The managers' concern was limited to hoping we would see most of what we had in stock sold to customers who would exchange cash for goods. All looking at how sales would affect the P&L bottom line. Understandable from a business standpoint. But my perspective was one of knowing the floral department would look like a war zone on Monday morning: devastated, wiped-out. Not being at work on Monday, I did not actually see it but having experienced it in the past, knew what to expect.

I've seen it in the past, when people would wait until well past the 'last minute' and dash in, in panic mode, desperately looking for some small offering.Grabbing up anything that would prevent them from showing up at the door empty handed, giving the appearance of having completely failed to remember and consider the value of nurturing received. Seeming to have no respect for the one who provided the caring, feeding, nurturing by that person willingly devoting time and effort to providing sustenance and guidance, table manners and potty training. We all have someone in our lives: auntie, grandmother, neighbor who chose to take us by the ear as needed and correct behavior, setting us straight as we veered off course on the hazard-filled road to adulthood. Best not 'dis' the guide who dragged us into being capable, responsible, productive grown-ups!