The Scent of Flowers

I’ve finally talked to a business owner that understands the meaning of customer service. I have wondered if maybe he should train people on how to keep the customers coming back again and again. At my job today, some flowers arrived for my boss. These flowers strangely reaked of cigarette smoke. Both the card and all the flowers reaked of stale Marlboros or maybe they were Camels — but they didn’t smell like fresh flowers.

My boss who is recuperating from an operation couldn’t even enjoy the flowers because she is allergic to cigarette smoke. So I called the florist:

Me: “Hi, we just got some flowers delivered from your florist shop and they reak of cigarette smoke.”

Florist: “Really? That is so weird. That has never happened before. What should I do?”

Me: “Well, I think you should send her more flowers so that she can enjoy them because she is allergic to cigarette smoke. I think the people that sent them to her would like her to enjoy them also.”

Florist: “Hmm, well, I don’t know. I don’t think the smell should last long. Hmm, there aren’t any flowers that have the scent of cigarette so this can’t be the flowers. I guess the driver was smoking?”

Me: “Yes, it would appear so. Can I speak to the owner?”

Florist: “I am the owner.”

Me: “Okay (disbelief) um, well, no one wants to receive fresh flowers that smell like smoke. Was this an employee that delivered them or do you use a service?”

Florist: “It is a service, but this has never happened before.”

Me: “Okay, well, I think you might want to tell the service that they shouldn’t allow their drivers to smoke around the flowers.”

Florist: “Are you against smokers?”

Me: “No, I don’t have anything against smokers. I’m not telling the man that he can’t smoke, but he shouldn’t be smoking near the flowers. Flowers are supposed to smell like flowers not cigarette smoke.”

Florist: “So what should I do?”

Me: “I think you should send new flowers that don’t smell like smoke so she can enjoy them.”

Florist: “So you want me to deliver the flowers myself? Can the driver deliver them again?”

Me: “I really don’t care who delivers them as long as they smell and look nice.”

Florist: “Okay, okay, I get your point. I’ll have more flowers delivered tomorrow. Okay?”

Me: “Thank you.”

Still alive amongst the bumper stickers

If I could have a nickel for every time I’ve blown my nose in the last two weeks…If only they could recycle all this snot…If only my son, who gave me this cold, were as tired as I am…If only…I got up and read the constitution. I was following this man and I found his bumper sticker amusing. It said “Americans, read your Constitution”. I must admit I haven’t read it in awhile. I mean I used to get up, pour myself a cup of coffee and sit down with the Constitution every morning, but I just got out of the habit.

The other day I saw a bumper sticker that said “Obama/Clinton -08” — did I miss something here?

Then today I saw another bumper sticker–“Put on Your Big Girl Panties and Deal With It” and that is what I am trying to do.

How stupid are we, really?

I have to admit I enjoy the little “helpful” signs written for idiots. You know the ones with the pictures and the “do not” sign over them.

 Now take this one for example:


I have to assume that it is for people that like to pull out their cords from a foot away. Or is it in the way the fingers are placed around the cord? With the thumb laying gingerly above the cord? Is that why it’s forbidden?

Or how about this one?


Now I have to admit there have been times that I have wanted to place my toddler in a tupperware container for a few hours, however, are people really confused about the danger? And who has tupperware bowls this big or are their little itty bitty babies that fit into food storage containers?

Now anyone with children should be familiar with this one:


Yes, a warning to the dangers of michelen tire babies between the ages of 0-3 years. Or are these generic Q-P dolls?


Sorry, for that brief bit of nudity. I do try to keep my website porn-free. (Can you just imagine the spam I will have on this post?)

Anyway, all this to say that as I was pumping gas at my local Cosco, I noticed a very helpful sign. This wasn’t the one telling you not to smoke while pumping gas, although apparently that one is very needed see this if you doubt it. (Some people forget that smoking uses “fire” and gas + fire = very hot. ) No, I am talking about the sign showing you not to pump your gas with the nozzel turned upside down. Now I thought who would do this? Apparently, it is a “key to better fuel economy” according to this AC website. The writer says that you will not get all the fuel you paid for if you don’t turn the nozzle upside down at the end of the pumping. The next person in line will get “4 ounces” you paid for. However, if the person in front of me didn’t know to turn the pump upside down wouldn’t I get his 4 ounces and be even? 

According to the “do not” sign it is dangerous to turn the nozzle upside down. So I am faced with a conundrum. Do I risk life and limb to get the extra 4 ounces when I possibly received 4 extra ounces from the guy before me, or do I follow the do not sign and keep the nozzle right side up? I will spend most of 2008 contemplating my choices, and I’m sure you will too.  

Electricity, don’t leave home without it

Yesterday morning our electricity went out after our part of California was hit with a storm. Every time the electricity has gone off  in my home my freezer has been filled with food. 90% of the time my freezer is filled with ice cream, berries, peas, batteries (my husband thinks it makes them last longer) and chicken breasts. However, when the electricity is out (this happened in Spain quite frequently) my freezer is filled with roasts and chickens. One time in the summer it had fish in it–great smell.

As I was laying in our sofa bed, in front of the fireplace, with my 3 children and husband, I realized how much the invention of central heating has stolen a very important role from my husband. I don’t know what it is but when a man lights a fire in the fireplace –not just a recreational fire — but we need the heat kind of fire–it becomes serious business. It cannot just be a fire. It must be the best fire, and it is essential that it is poked every 10 minutes or so. Now, you might think that women poke the fire just as much, but that isn’t true. I’ve seen my mom make a fire. She puts the newspaper and wood in the fireplace and lights it. She only interrupts the natural fire process if there is a log about to leave the fireplace.  My husband, however, must involve himself in this fire making thing. He must feel that he has made this fire and it is a success. 

Our electricity came on this morning at about 5:00am jolting us out of bed–the living room lights were left on. Even though we had heating filling up the room, my husband decided he wanted to build a fire this morning. I believe that after building the successful fire last night he wanted to replay that satisfaction. He is happily tinkering away at the fire and other “broken” things around the house while I can enjoy the modern convenience of the electricity that runs the computer.