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Anne Saker's Blog

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May.19.2013
Bachelor button, by me
  After the trip to Texas, I have been talking straight to my id: Snap out of it! Life braids random sorrows and beauties, and then it dumps them on you, ready or not. This bundle in my arms is mine. Take it, hold it close. It’s the one chance I get. On Saturdays, the floral department blows...
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May.01.2013
Kalanchoe looking kute. By me.
I had barely tied my apron when Assistant Manager Kara invited me for a walk. “We need a clean-up,” she said as I hurried to keep up with her through the cart lobby. “Regional VP might stop by. He’s fussy about the outside.” We stood and surveyed the wreckage of broken ferns, veggie starts...
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Apr.26.2013
Needing some cheer. By me.
And . . . then . . . I clocked in again. Kroger took me back – I hadn’t been terminated out of the system yet — and Amanda squeezed out four shifts for me this week. Another casualty of my foolish haste: prematurely snapping a string of 12 weeks of at least 34 hours, which is necessary for health...
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Apr.14.2013
My last arrangement. By me.
  If working minimum wage at Kroger paid the bills, I would be a floral clerk forever. It’s hard but creative. It’s nice to look at flowers and talk about flowers all the time. Kroger is the world’s largest florist, so there’s that. But really, flowers are food for the soul. People change amid...
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Apr.14.2013
Pansies, after a good watering. By me.
Selling my house in Portland meant that at least for a while I could afford to take a job at Kroger. Getting into the floral department just seemed ridiculously lucky. Life at minimum wage has enriched me, watching the world walk by, listening to the deep, beautiful things that a flower elicits...
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Apr.09.2013
Sunrise cactus. By me.
Sometimes, the Kroger brain intercedes and sends product for the floral department that Amanda did not order. These investment plants lie around eating valuable table space for weeks. We look at them and sigh; we fist-bump when one sells. This week, Amanda zapped a “sunrise cactus” with The Gun. We...
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Apr.03.2013
I made this one a few months ago. By me.
His T-shirt read “Mason LAX.” He dug out his wallet as I rang up his dozen red roses. Young guy, senior at Mason High. For the girlfriend? I asked. He nodded. Prom? He nodded again. “Tickets went on sale today, $120 each. They’re renting some place, there’s a big dinner. Wear a tux, she buys a...
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Mar.31.2013
Always be sure to belt in your flowers. By me.
By noon Sunday, the rush had ebbed. A middle-aged guy came to the counter with the last seasonal bouquet. “Kinda surprised you’re working on Easter,” he said. “Most people never used to do that when I was in the business.” And that was? “Retail. I ran a drugstore on the West Side for years. We used...
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Mar.25.2013
Daisy, you are my sunshine. By me.
No 15: Full strength Bensari has returned, and with young Erica quickly catching on, the floral department now stands at top staffing, and not a moment too soon. Even as Warren County awaited a hammerlocking Palm Sunday snowfall, the push of the calendar leads people to buy spring flowers: Passover...
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Mar.18.2013
Hyacinth. I could smell it all day long.
Kroger dwells under the rule of The Gun. It’s a $2,000 hand-held scanning computer that calculates inventory and then some. A savvy handler such as my buddy Josh can make it run a dozen price tags then sync up the next milk delivery to the minute. The gun numbers among the new machines I never knew...
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Mar.12.2013
Not "crazy daisies" -- dealing-with-issues daisies.
No. 13: Clopen At UPI, the term was “short turnaround,” but for the Nametag Brigade that keeps three quarters of the economy on the march, it’s “clopen” – close the store at 9 p.m. open it at 7 a.m. I have explained to Amanda my love of regular sleeping patterns, and she has been sensitive when...
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Mar.06.2013
What a job: airbrushing flowers. By me.
We’ve had a new person in floral, the sweet Jessica, who came from the produce department where she’d been working 20 hours a week standing at a sink in the huge back-of-the-store cooler, kept at 38 degrees, chopping fruit and veggies for the salad bar. Jessica was glad she didn’t have to wear her...
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Feb.28.2013
Sometimes I get to play with the flowers.
Feb. 28 qualifies as the lower descending colon of winter days. It’s part of the journey, but the stretch is dark and ugly. Bad news weighs more. Today, I barely had my apron tied when three women of middle years, one after another, came through the floral department and halted to admire the...
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Feb.20.2013
Imagine this, loose on the ceiling, looking over all.
At least once a week, a man or woman comes into the floral department, eyes burning with that blue flame of fear: kid’s birthday party in an hour with 12 friends, got the cake, candles, streamers, but no balloons, can’t have a party without balloons, been searching everywhere, Party City, Party...
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Feb.15.2013
Queen o' Hearts
The zombie apocalypse stormed the floral department; by the dozens and dozens they appeared, all ages, sizes, colors, wallet girths but one sex – male. They stared befuddled at the First World hyper-abundance of something they can’t even eat. But they know they cannot go home, for reasons ancient...
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