Eventually, I'll catch up on all my correspondence. Currently, I'm still weeks behind.
Months ago, I guaranteed clients that I could take care of all their student rentals that become vacant the two weeks around the first of August. In a college town, it's called Rollover. Contractors flood in to repair, paint and clean all the units left in varying degrees of uncleanliness and ravagement. Rollover is akin to a marathon versus a 5k. You work into the night (or straight through) until you get them all done.
I'm gearing up for the Lake Martin 100 this Spring and I consider all-nighters to be part of ultramarathon training.
I've been told that staying awake and moving for over 30 hours straight is the hardest obstacle for runners to overcome during a hundo (runner's slang for 100 mile race). Me thinks I got that part licked.
I've been fortunate to have many heroes in my life, some now passed, great ones still inspiring me daily and many more yet to be discovered. One such source of strength is someone I've been working for twice a month for a decade.
I had lost my vim and vigor when I saw her last Monday, complaining about my workload and how unsure I was if I could get all the rentals and my regular work completed. Her answer was to grit my teeth, plow forward and get it done. No coddling from this one. She has one daughter with a double doctorate and a son who retired as a general on the Joint Chiefs of Staff Committee. She obviously has a handle on motivating people!
For years, she's amazed me with stories from her life. The hardships she endured while being pregnant during WWII, with her husband abroad, she being left with her in-laws on a dairy farm, struggling to get by.
The voles may have devastated most of my garden this year, but I can get in my car and go to Earth Fare to buy more organic produce. 70 years ago, with rationing, you didn't have the gas to go to the store. Once at the store, you couldn't buy what you wanted anyway! We have no clue what true resilience is anymore.
When I grow up, I want to be like Mrs. C.
By telling you that she was preggers back in the early 1940's you can guess that she's no Spring chicken anymore, but don't tell her that, she won't believe you (she may actually swat you).
A couple years ago, she begrudgingly allowed her daughter to permanently borrow her Scuba gear because she was letting her Hawaii time share go. The agreement is that it's hers to use whenever she wants it back!
I'm telling you, she's a hoot.
I called her on her cell phone a few years ago, she answered and related to me very quickly, in a language most unbecoming of a great-grandmother, that she couldn't talk now, she was hauling cattle over the mountains, in an overloaded trailer, trying to keep up with her grandson's rig and the blasted @%!! boy was driving too fast. 8 hour haul in your 80's. My 5 mile haul to the vet school every few months exhausts me and I'm half her age.
So, last weekend, my gardens were parched from the lack of rain. I carved out 6 hours on Sunday to draw water from the well for irrigation. I draw up a 5 gallon bucket of water (40 pounds) and fill a tub on wheels until I have 25 gallons to tote around the yard. I lost track at 44 forays with the tote. That's over 1100 gallons, over 220 buckets drawn from the well.
When I thought my hands were going to plop off, I'd wander off and work on another project for a while. My strategy worked because it permitted the dropping water column level to replenish itself by a few feet.
When I thought of quitting altogether, I asked myself: What would Mrs. C do?
I grit my teeth and stopped only when I was finished with the last plant and I was drawing up pebbles from the bottom of the well.
Have you hugged your mentor today?
