It ain't really a @selfiemonday and there's no "throwback Thursday" here so I guess I'll put this bit up today. A few years ago I found an old friend I hadn't seen in about 30 years. She asked me what I'd been doing so I tried to write just one line or sentence for every year. I had so much fun, I ended up going all the way back to the beginning. It works as a nice outline for stories to my kids. I owe it 12 years now. The store has had it's glories and failures in that time that I'd like to get that down before...umm...whatever they call that thing when you get older. I ferget
One year at a time
1950 Born. Hurt like hell. Way beyond the word “fear”. Ain’t been right since.
1951-1953 Baby in Germany. Spent all my time organizing chaos. To no avail, I’ve since found.
1954-1955 Child in Germany. Loud voices, nice music. My refuge and delight were in the kitchen with Müli.
1956 Came to America. Learned I could no longer have beer with my food in public. I still don’t understand.
1957 First grade in public school. Mostly learned English, tried not to get beat up because I was different.
1958 Second grade. Monstrous finger wagging bitches for teachers. Learned to ditch school.
1959 Third grade. Mrs. Easley. My first love. She treated me with respect and helped me learn how to learn.
1960 Fourth grade, Mr. Albright. My hero. But I was too smart for 4th grade. The “Administrators” (scum)
skipped me to 5th grade in mid-year. I was beyond angry. I learned not to show what I had learned.
1961 Mom divorced my step dad. We moved to a new apartment. Different school.
1962 Mom got a raise. We moved to a new apartment. Different school.
1963 Mom got raise, new apartment, and different school. Puberty hit. Found my dick. All hell broke loose.
1964 Ninth grade. Fell in love with science and a beatnik girl. Ditched school to drink gin in the bushes.
1965 Tenth grade. More science, more gin, discovered jazz. Picked up a guitar in hopes of picking up girls.
1966 Learned to drive a car. Lost my virginity in a Ford convertible “Black is black” playing on the 8-track.
1967 Played guitar, ditched school to study physics at the library. First French restaurant job. Old school chef.
1968 Off to college to be a pilot. Fell way in love. Discovered LSD. Questioned everything/never stopped.
1969 Heart severely broken, worked a few jobs, played guitar, drank and did lots of mescaline and recovered.
1970 Learned to be a land surveyor. Fell in love again. Kept playing guitar, drinking, etc.
1971 Got married. Lived in a 1 room cabin in the mountains. Worked as a surveyor, played guitar, etc.
1972 We lived happily ever after for about a year. Surveyed for Mark II Engineering.
1973 Laurel got into a car wreck and almost died. In hospital for 3 months. I almost died eating hospital food.
1974 Bought our first house for $17,000. Tried to be normal. Still with Mark II
1975 My son was born on April 12. I was fascinated with him and frightened. I wasn’t old enough to have a kid.
But who is? Became partner at Mark II.
1976 Tried really hard to be normal. Had too many living things in our house: dogs, cats, friends, and relatives.
1977 Broke up with Laurel. We did it well. We didn’t hate…we loved. And out of love we split everything up.
1978 Music school at Metro (wonderful time). Stopped Surveying. Sold my piece of Mark II.
1979 Music school at CU (sucked) Met Barbara (that was nice)
1980 Cohabited with Barbara, Played gigs, taught, did a bit of surveying.
1981 Moved to Hawai'i to be surveyors(long story), ended up managing coffee house.
1982 Baked so much for coffee house that I opened a bakery.
1983 Moved bakery location, opened restaurant instead (long story), got married, had daughter Julie.
1984 Barbara nursed, I cooked, lived in Hawai'i 4 years, went to the beach 6 times.
1985 Moved back to mainland, Barbara nursed, I was sous/pastry chef at Le Central.
1986 Barbara nursed, I ran kitchen in sports bar.
1987 Barbara nursed, we both ran a kitchen in an Italian family restaurant , Dario's on 17th.
1988 Became pilot kid for a company called Chef temps and cooked everywhere.
1989 Ended up as chef at the Normandy French Restaurant on Colfax.
1990 Julie in 2nd grade, taking ballet, I roast 100 geese in 4 days over Christmas at the Normandy.
1991 Went to work for Bluepoint Bakery and Catering. Just a delight!!
1992 Barbara became manager of bakery for Bluepoint. I cooked, Julie danced.
1993 I opened a pastry shop in a chocolate shop (the French Confection) in Cherry Creek.
1994 Chocolate shop was dysfunctional disaster, went back to surveying and remodeling.
1995 Barbara became the sexton (fancy janitor) at St. Andrew's church (nice gig).
1996 I was happily doing electrical/plumbing and tile work and more land surveying. Barbara's mom died.
1997 Bought a house, found my dad (long story, immensely magical) met my brother and 2 sisters.
1998 Our house was a very very fine house, with 2 cats in the yard.....Julie danced.
1999 Owned my own surveying co. Babsie worked in office at Julie's high school. My dad died.
2000 Ran my business, played a lot of music with my old friend John (got himself a gold flute).
2001 Started Video business (audition tapes for dancers mostly and videographer for Russian Ballet).
2002 Julie started trapeze. For a senior project for HS she ran away with the circus. We went with her.
2003 Started Chocolate biz (other businesses don't stop, by the way),
Packed up my family, my hoop drum "Raven Lady", Jose, my guitar,
24 boxes of truffles and set out on a vision quest and to visit my Brother in Arizona.
2003(cont.) Stopped in Bisbee, saw this store with a "For Sale" sign. I said, "We can do this."
Sold our house, bought the store and the house behind it and we've been here ever since.
We named the store Mimosa Market for the large Mimosa tree in the back of the house. We've been here for 7+ years and it's been the most fulfilling thing I've done so far. We run our store, I bake bread and cook in my deli,
I started a garden a few years ago. Bisbee (pop 6,000) is a "bubble community". That means hippies, artists, writers, musicians, and anyone else too creative to want or need too much money lives here. We supply the groceries and deli items for this mixed up bunch of weirdos. Julie got married here 3 years ago. That was my last wedding cake for a while.
We continue to try to live happily ever after.