Myrtle Beach 3
the girl
Myrtle Beach 2
When we woke up this morning, it was raining. It’s bad enough that it’s raining when you’re at the beach; it’s even worse when you’re at the beach saying in what the children have come to call a “crusty hotel.”I suppose that’s What you get when you try to save a little money. Because even if you save money one way you’re going to pay for another. Still there is a right side to staying in this crusty hotel: it makes us stay away from it.
So in the morning we head to an aquarium.
In the afternoon when it clears up, we go to the beach.
And in the evening, the SkyWheel.
Fresh
The Girl’s first day on the job was yesterday, but she was just shadowing people. “I learned how to restock the ketchup! Thrilling!” she exclaimed with a hint of sarcasm.
Today, she worked on the cash register, which means she had multiple interactions with the public.
“Hi! Welcome to Culver’s! What can I get started fresh for you today?”
“Is that what you have to say? Those exact words?” I asked during our conversation after she returned.
“No, we just have to work ‘fresh’ into it somehow.”
“So you could say something like, ‘Hi! Welcome to Culver’s, home of freshity fresh-fresh freshness!’? Would that work?”
She rolled her eyes as a fourteen-year-old will do.
As for the picture, I had to sneak it.
Boys’ Lunch
After visiting with Papa this morning, E and I decided we needed a boys’ afternoon out for lunch. And when it’s a boys’ afternoon out for lunch, we always choose Mexican. And when we choose Mexican, the Boy always chooses the same thing: enchiladas.
The Girl couldn’t go with us because, well, it was a boys’ afternoon, but also because she had her first day at work. I got to see her in her Culver’s uniform, but I didn’t get to snap a picture. Not yet, at least.
Mid-June Thursday
Taxi service today: E to scout camp at 8:00. L to volleyball conditioning at 9:00. Pick her up at 10:00.
I had just enough time to pick the first blueberries (or second I guess -- we did pick some yesterday) and to mow the neighbor's yard afterward before heading off to take L to sand volleyball practice (including going to pick up her partner). On the way home, a few errands. Then off to pick up the Boy from scout day camp. Back home to get ready for the swim meet.
He dropped his time from 36 seconds to 31 seconds. Great job! A victory regardless of how he stacked up to the competition.
And then a glance at the "Time Machine" widget at the bottom of MTS: a reminder that four years ago today was just as hectic, but it was in Warsaw:
Tuesday
The morning — I am the taxi driver. E has to go to scout camp. L has to go to volleyball conditioning. Then L has to come home to get ready for orientation. (She got the job.) Then she has to go to that orientation. Driving, driving, driving.
After lunch, I head out and do some weeding.
I’ve no idea how many sweet gum saplings I’ve pulled up this year. I’d guess I’m nearing 300 or so. They’re everywhere. All of the sweet gum trees we have are in backyard, in the corner, where no one really cares about them. For whatever reason, the seed pods from them result in very few saplings. However, the pods from our neighbors’ trees — they’re particularly virulent, I suppose.
In the evening, it’s back to taxi service. L is participating in a summer league. In a city that’s about 40 minutes away from us when we leave for said league because the games start at six. Which means we’re driving in rush hour traffic. Which means the 20-mile trip can take up to 40 minutes…
The Flip
New Pet
L got a new pet -- a frog of some sort.
We were all happy and excited for her, eager to see the new beast.
She's been dreaming about this for some time, and she finally got it today.
If, of course, you can see the little stinker.
Jobs
My first real job was as a lifeguard at the pool in my high school. During the evenings, from 6:30 to 8:30, it was open for public swimming, and those hours were extended in the summer to include morning and afternoon swimming. Those hours on the lifeguard stand seemed endless, making the evening shift seem more than double its actual time. At times, I had to tell myself, to force myself, not to look at the clock, to resist the urge for as long as possible because I knew that, despite being sure fifteen or twenty minutes had passed, I knew I would look up and see that only five minutes had dragged by. After everyone had left, I had to clean the pool deck, clean the bathrooms, and once every few days vacuum the pool.
“Being a lifeguard is not as glamorous as it seems,” my boss (who was also my swim coach) warned us when we all began taking the requisite courses to become certified. “Being a lifeguard is, in reality, nothing more than being a glorified janitor.” He’d forgotten to mention the utter boredom.
Many teens start their working lives in fast food, and so the second job I got was at a Wendy’s franchise one summer. Tired of being a glorified janitor, I applied for the job on the advice of a friend who also worked there. It was a little better than being a lifeguard: there was at least some variety. One day I might be working on the grill; the next day I might be serving up fries. I never got to work the register, though, because I quit after a month: the manager was scheduling me to work so little that I was sure I could find a better way to spend my time — at least looking for a job with more hours.
One summer in high school, I worked mornings with a man who did landscaping. It was tiring work, and it was frustrating as well: he often didn’t explain things terribly well and then fussed at me when I didn’t do things the way he’d intended.
Today, E and I dropped off L at a local ice cream franchise for her to apply for her first job. Her friend S applied for and got a job there, and she was to start her first shift just after L’s interview.
“I’d have to work the register,” she explained on the way there, “because I can’t use any of the equipment. S said she can’t even touch the microwave.”
“How old do you have to be for that?” I asked.
“Sixteen.” So by the time she’s allowed to make milkshakes for people rather than just taking orders for them, she’ll also be old enough to drive herself to work. And that’s all in just two short years.
Going through some photos while taking an afternoon coffee today, I noticed some pictures I hadn’t remembered: the kids, out with Babcia and K during their Polska 2015 visit. The children are both vastly different in these images than they are now, with E currently just about the same age as L in the image. And the same old thoughts and realizations came back yet again…
Jacksonville — Vacation Day
