The heart of the home is this table right here!

As a young girl back in Nickerson, I recall doing my homework at the dining room table with a coal oil lamp to light my books.  Now you should know that the "dining room table" was the only table that we had and the room we had it in was between the kitchen and the "front room."  The front room was the first room in the house.  Next was the dining room and then the kitchen/wash room/library/what ever else we needed it to be.  On Saturday nights that is where we all took turns taking a bath in a tin tub.  

There were 2 other rooms in the house and they were both bedrooms.  Now back then bedrooms were exactly that!  Mother had the smallest room which held one bed and she slept there with the 2 youngest girls.  The front bedroom had 2 beds, one of which was my fathers.  The rest of us girls slept in the other bed.  Jake was relegated to the floor.  But this is not about where we slept, this is about the dining room table.

We had electricity, but we rarely ever used it, because we were afraid we would wear it out.  The table was a round oak table much like the one I have in my dining room today.  I am sure the chairs were wooden because we could not afford one of those fancy chrome sets that everyone coveted.  There was a green wooden table in the kitchen, but that was for holding pots and pans and such. 

We ate at the dining room table.  We did our homework at the dining room table.  If someone dropped by they were seated at the dining room table.  Usually we sipped on a glass of water from the well.  The icebox was in the dining room by the door to mother's bedroom.  Once a week the iceman came.  We had a sign that was in our front window.  It was similar to the one in the lower right corner.  The iceman would pick up the size block we wanted with his ice tongs and carry it inside and place it in the icebox.  The money was always left on top of the icebox.  A new block of ice was always a treat because it was so clear and square.  We used to follow the ice wagon on hot days as cool our feet in the water that came off his melting load.  I digress!

  

I tend to get off subject.  The point is that the dining room table was the heart of the home and life has not changed that much.  Kenny and I had not been married very long when we decided we needed a new table.  We went down on Union and found an antique round oak table that suited us perfectly.  Since he was working in Denver we went to the oak furniture store and purchased 6 straight backed chairs and we were in business.

Shortly after that, my mother came for her first visit.  She lived in Hutchinson, Kansas and as I recall she rode the train to LaJunta where I picked her up and brought her home.  She was very happy to see the round oak table and the 6 oak chairs.  She set down and started to reminisce.

"This is the heart of the home.  It is here that everyone gets together to eat and it is where all important decisions are made.  It is here that the family comes together.  It is here that company visits.  This table is where happiness and sadness are always discussed."  And she was right.

When someone comes to my house, even today, we set at the table.  The couch and recliners are only used to watch television.  The heart of the home I grew up in was always the table and it still is today.  Whether it is dinner for 20 people or a cup of tea with a friend, it all happens at the table.  I have a breakfast bar with stools that are never used.  I have an office, but I pay my bills and do my correspondence at the table.  Mail is put on the table.  It is the center of my existence.

My mother has been gone many, many years, but the table will always be where I see her most.  She used to set at that table and work her crossword puzzles.  I can not work a crossword any where but there.  I miss my mother every day of my life.  It never gets better.  Someone asked me once, "How long do you mourn when someone dies?'

My answer to that is "forever."  How could you ever forget the woman who gave you life?  Things come and go, but mothers and dining room tables are forever.  I have pictures of my mother and Kenneth's mother beside my front door.  They are the last thing I see when I leave and the first thing I see when I close the door when I return.

I realize that someday, I will no longer be here.  No doubt there will be an auction and the dining room table will go to a new home, but that is alright, because I will be at the big table across the great divide with my Mother and all my grandma's and there will be a giant table that has room for all of us.

Kinda looking forward to that!

Customer Service could be the key to our salvation!

After much wringing of my hands and holding of my head and balancing of the sorry little checkbook, I decided that a new computer is a definite must.  Since I needed ink anyway and I was in Pueblo West instead of at church I decided to stop at Staples.  I always go there when I need anything since I get a 2% discount when I use the American Express card and they usually seem pretty friendly.  So I whipped the little gray Ford into a parking place and went inside. 
I saw the counter where they work on computers and fix them and thought I would stop there first.
The man was busy with a young lady so I went over and got my ink.  Since he was still busy, I went to take a look at what they had in the line of computers.  Not much on the one end and since the clerk was busy visiting with another clerk and a customer(?) I had to walk around another counter and come in from the back side.  No problem since I can still walk.  Not much on that end either and no one in sight to ask without interrupting, which I do not like to do.  So back to the repair counter where that clerk was still talking with the young woman.
Since I was meeting someone for lunch I thought I better just pay for the ink and go.  No one at the service desk.  No bell to ring that I could see.  I stood there for 2 or 3 minutes and finally decided that I must be invisible since I had been in the store at this time over 10 minutes and had neither made eye contact with any one, nor been acknowledged in any way.  Rather then just walk out with the ink I left it lay on the counter.  Bet they think they have ghosts there.
After lunch I called my step daughter who had recommended Best Buy.  Yes she would meet me there.  Since I was closer I got there much quicker.  Immediately a clerk was by my side.  In very short order I had gathered the things I wanted.  Well, not really what I wanted since I am still on Windows Vista and that is now obsolete and Windows 7 soon will be.  I got an HP tower with Windows 8 and a new monitor and a mouse.  Oh, and the tri-pack of ink that matches the one I left at Staples.  No step daughter yet, but I am a big girl.  I managed to buy almost $500 worth of stuff and put the points on her account.  Unfortuneately, I am now getting her email and I do not know why, but I suspect.
Business all done and he loaded all this on a low cart, thanked me and pointed to the door.  I am sorry, but at that moment I could have cried.  I really expected to be helped to the car.  Or at least asked if I would like help.  So I dropped my purse on the cart and started that way.  In a computer store there are lots of obstacles, but I made it to the door.  Getting across a rough place in the concrete and keeping my load from jumping off the cart took about all this 71 year old broad could do to accomplish.  In all fairness a couple clerks looked at me as I rearranged the load so as not to lose the monitor on the ashphalt.  As I reached my car, my step daughter pulled up.  She helped me put it in the car.  Very happy about that since my back has been crippling me for 3 months and is just now getting so I am not in constant pain.
I explained to her that this was not right.  An old woman should have been offered a little assistance and not just sent out the door with $500 worth of stuff and hope she could make it to the car without being mugged or dropping the whole thing.  She was in agreement with me on that.
I brought my stuff home and she called to tell me that she had discussed this with the manager and he had said. " It is Corporate policy that the clerk not go to the car with the customer unless they are ASKED by the customer to do so. "  She told them they might want to rethink that one.  I am not a person that ASKS for help.  Never did it; never will.  I go to the grocery and they ask me if I would like help out to my car.  When I went to Staples a trip or so back and bought a printer, they loaded it for me.  Every where I go I get offers for assistance, but not at Best Buy.
So the crux here is this...businesses are suffering because people are not buying.  What a surprise!  I go to the store and finding a clerk is usually an effort in futility.  I gather my whatever I want and go to the counter and maybe someone is there to ring me up.  A couple weeks ago I had made an appointment to see someone.  On the day of the said appointment I received a call that they could not keep the appointment.  What am I to do?  Well make an appointment for next week.  I am busy next week.  Well, you have to make one then.  No I don't.  Here let me just hang up and call someone who will see me this week.  And I did.
I rarely if ever shop at Safeway any more.  Know why?  I stand in the checkout line and wait.  I wait while the clerks visit with each other and whoever will listen to them talk about the grandkids or the Bronco's, or what ever.  The last time I went there and managed to drop over $80 and never made eye contact with the clerk, was the last time.  King Soopers has a new policy; you do not have to wait in line and they will open another register if you do.  In and out and they actually make eye contact and say a few kind words.  And that, my friend, is called Customer Service.
It amazes me that they call us old people crabby, bitchy and whatever else comes to mind, but you know what?  After 70 years of living on this big green ball, I have decided that I am going to be treated with a miniscule amount of respect or I will take my little pile of money some where else to someone who will treat me with kindness.  I can not help that I got old, what I can help is what businesses I will support.  At this point in my life if I have to ASK you to help me, you may just find yourself standing at your counter with a tri-pack of ink, or a basket full of groceries.  I have decided to set the computer up because I seriously entertained the idea of returning it and telling them why.  Instead I will not return to Best Buy for anything.
As a matter of fact, when I buy something online, I immediately get a receipt and a thank you letter.  It is a form letter, but there it is.  Then in just a few days, whatever I ordered is delivered to my house and the UPS man or mailman or whoever brought it smiles and asks me how it is going.  Then I get another letter that asks if everything was satisfactory.  More of that stuff called Customer Service.  Brick and mortar stores could learn from the faceless business men and women online.