Upon learning the value of a hard day's work, and then some~

A good Labor Day Monday, 2013 to all of you out there reading this blog post today.  I hope you can find a time this day, even if you are scheduled to be at your job, to rest and take a break from the normal (what ever the heck that might be) work day you have.  May you be fortunate enough to at least have a job and even more so if it is one that you love to do.

I have nothing horribly profound to say this morning, except perhaps to give a word of thanks as I remember two people who taught me absolutely everything I know about the value of hard work, my parents.  John and Lois Scott, well they believed that a kid that was working hard just about 24/7 would never have the strength or the inclination to get themselves into trouble in the years of their youth.  They not only believed it, they instilled it in each of their 7 children.  The "big kids" in our family (Mike, Janice and Kaye) learned to work hard on the farm growing up.  The "little kids" in our family (Dick, Cindy and myself) learned the work ethic at the restaurant and service station.  The "middle kid" of the family, our dear and much loved sister Sherry, well she kinda got stuck doing both of them.  There is a special place above for the kids "in the middle", I am sure :)

My first, last and only job in my growing up years was being a waitress for my parents at Scott's Cafe.  Didn't even need to bother looking elsewhere because as a Scott kid, you just knew what your "lot" in the work force was going to be.  Starting at age 11 when I was barely even able to see over the counter and continuing until age 21 when I graduated from college, I was there.  Most times I worked the 6-2 shift because, what the heck?  I was already up anyway. Did I ever get a day off?  You know, I don't rightly remember but even if I didn't it surely didn't kill me.  

Working there taught me many things that would help me along life's way.  I learned the beginning lessons of money management.  The tips that people left under their plates (and most times a quarter was a great tip back then) were great for spending money.  Yet, if I spent too many of those 25-cent pieces in the jukebox while I was working there would be much less for me to spend at other places.  I picked up some great pointers on time management too.  My parents were sticklers about staying busy while you were at work.  No standing around "flapping your jaws" when there was work to be done.  So unless you wanted your parents to "call you out" in front of your friends, you best stay busy.  I learned people skills too as I worked hard to overcome my shyness in front of strangers that came in and out the door.  My folks always reminded us "the customer is always right" and thus my skin had to become a little thicker, especially when I felt bad about making a mistake on someone's order or the change that they received at the cash register upon leaving.

It's been a long time since I was a waitress and although I am glad that I don't make my living at it now, I am equally glad and perhaps even more so that I once was.  It was a very good start for me, a teacher of "life lessons" that I didn't realize the value of until so many years later.  The knowledge I was given during that 10-year span of time enabled me to survive my travel on many rough and rocky roads in the years that would follow.  

It was a sad day, a discouraging day for my parents when they decided to sell the cafe and service station.  They would leave their home in Haven shortly thereafter because of my father's declining health.  Not that many years later, my dad would pass away from lung cancer.  Mom always said that the hardest and worst decision they ever made was to sell the cafe and leave Haven.  In the years that followed, even from her nursing home room at Good Samaritan in Hutchinson, she would say that she wished she could go back to Haven and start a restaurant once more.  That little town was a blessing to my family, saving us and supporting us many times over.  Is it any wonder that if anyone ever asks me where I am from, where my hometown is, that I would always say Haven, Kansas?  I love that place.

Well, the sun has come up and day has broken here along the Western Slopes.  The sky is blue with only a scattering of clouds along the tops of the mountains.  Just a very slight breeze off of Cerro Summit, so slight that even the leaves of the stately Cottonwood tree are not rustling.  The temperature sits at 63 right now with a high later of about 86.  It has become more and more noticeable as of late that the seasons are getting ready to do their dance and change up partners.  My plan for this day is to be outside as much as I can be and enjoy what little nice warm weather is left for us here.  I'm sure grateful for my job, for my classroom of little people.  But for this day, I am glad for the day off.  Wishing for you all out there a great day to be alive in.  Rejoice, give thanks, and get outside and find yourselves some peace and enjoyment.  Take care of yourselves and of each other.  

Our dad, John B. Scott, Jr. standing in front of the service station at Haven in the summer of 1976.  He was getting ready to continue on to northwestern Kansas for the wheat harvest at Colby in Thomas County.

Daddy stand outside in the parking lot of the cafe in Haven.  Dang, I sure do miss that place.  They were really good times in life.  Glad that I got to be a part of it.

You know, that poor girl really did survive all of the hours spent asking people things like "Do you want cream in your coffee or just black?"  :)

If there is a restaurant in Heaven, then our sweet mom is in charge of it.  She surely did love that life.