My New Title: Flower Farmer

Not that I'm counting, but about 94 days ago (give or take), I lost my job. Yes, I heard that collective gasp. I've heard it from my former co-workers, I've heard it from my neighbors, I've heard it from my mother. The thrill has worn off, hearing that gasp of surprise. Although, I admit, I still use it a little when I'm out looking for some sympathy on a bad day. Shameful, I know, to bait an innocent store clerk like that. 

Also collectively, I've received a ton of support. By the likes of things, I've learned that God spends a lot of His time opening windows and slamming doors - evidently just to keep us on our toes.

Thing is, everyone seems to be poised to hear which door I will choose, or is it which window will I crawl through, or jump out of, maybe. But I'm not ready yet - I'm not ready to jump yet - nor do I know where I want to land. 

I'll try to make this short, even though it represents a lifetime of work: Starting as an A&W carhop oh- so-many years ago, I did plenty of time at a fry vat before I moved on to my first office job as a skip tracer for a collection agency in the Paulsen Building. For one holiday season, I sorted mail at the main post office facility on Trent, tossing envelopes bearing the wrong Zip Code into the correct zip slot.  I was a clerk in the men's department at Lamonts on 29th; held an administrative position with the Dept. of Housing and Urban Development on Guam, where we spent some government money cleaning up after Typhoon Pamela.  I was a waitress at a Denny's Restaurant, among others and I held several more admin positions in various insurance and real estate offices, as well as doing the books and helping keep my brother's gas station going. I actually drove cab for awhile; worked at KSKN Television when it was a small UHF station and I helped a local manufacturing company introduce the cleverest and still the most sought after garden cart to the industry. I helped put on trade shows for two local high tech firms that introduced the latest in wireless communication to the world (in 1989). I've help support us by building a desktop publishing business, fundraising professionally for the Muscular Dystrophy Association and I enjoyed 10+ years of retail self employment - with an underlying stretch all along as a free-lance writer, selling my little stories and articles when and where I could.

I've been across the street and around the block, working pretty much full time since I was 15 years old. From each position, I learned something and in many of the positions, I learned that there would likely be little opportunity for me to advance further, without the formal education I denied myself way earlier in my life. Since making that ill-fated, yet completely-on-track decision for a young girl of my generation (who was encouraged to find a good man to marry me) (but I digress), I often watched as that lack of a piece of paper, signed by someone who would attest that I knew something, would prevent me from being successful any further somewhere where I had signed on. 

Which is not to say that I didn't attack each job and give it my absolute best. On that, I'd be willing to take an oath. Because I inherited a strong work ethic, each employer got their best from me...whether they had plans to allow me to be better, or not. And everything I learned at every job I had, I took with me and learned more at the next. 


And you know what, I've had a great time doing all these interesting things. Never career-track, usually only to stay afloat at the time; but even late into my working life - well into my 50s and having given self-employment a great run, after all that, I landed a job that I loved.  

For the past 7 years, I was employed with Washington State University Extension - where, ultimately, I had the good fortune to coordinate a volunteer community outreach program called the Master Gardeners. It was a gift of a job to stumble across at the time and I embraced it with everything I had. With it came a strong group of knowledgeable gardeners, a funky government building to work out of and a small but easily attained budget to finance the programs and classes. I taught as well as learned, and the concept of making a difference in our community with the efforts of those volunteers was something I saw firsthand.

Here's the rub: it was that tiny budget and, because of a construed set of circumstances, my lack of the appropriate science degree that unfortunately came down to my no longer having that job when the University, faced with severe financial cuts, needed to make faculty and staff changes. The program would be able to continue, but I wasn't going to be able to be the one who kept it going any longer.  

What makes me chuckle, albeit miserably, is that I knew I'd never advance anywhere - working in academia without a formal education - but I didn't want to, you see. I wrapped my whole life around that job - and the precious population of volunteers that came with it; I gave it everything I had, bundled it with joy, and worked for a somewhat embarrassing amount of money to do so. And I did it with every intention of it being my last job - something to hold onto until I felt like retiring. Which, it turns out, was just a tad sooner that I'd planned.  

But with all I've shared above, there is still this: each time I was faced with a change in employment - I would ask myself, what is it I know how to do, what do I like to do and how can I put those two together and make it work. And here are my most recent answers: I know how to grow great flowers and I know how to write.


Suddenly I'm going to have a lot of time for both.   The pay isn't much, but that's not anything new.