Seeing But Not SEEING

It’s funny how differently our eyes see things, depending on what is, or has, happened. I’d been in my mom’s office hundreds of times. I’d even got stuff out of this desk, but I never really looked at it, saw it for what it was, until we were emptying their house.

It stopped me in my tracks to see it cleared of everything around it. And swept me back in time.

This desk was one of three in the office of my dad’s company, Sage Creek Refining Co. Working for my dad was my first job, so I sat at this desk way back when.

Once there was an emotional connection, I had to bring it home.

I like seeing it here and think my parents would, too.

When I go by that room I stop and smile. All I have to do is close my eyes and I’m back there, young again, a little nervous about doing a good job, because I was the boss’s daughter and I didn’t want to let my dad down by being a twit.

I don’t think I was, but I’m not exactly unbiased. Lol

One of my favorite memories of working there was when Jim P. Would call. (I remember his name, but not how to spell it. I can’t remember who he worked for either, just that it was a petroleum something or other.) That wasn’t the important part. It was his voice.

You could always tell it was him by the expression on our faces and how our voices changed when we heard his voice.

It was my first exposure to a yummy phone voice. We all wanted to be the one to take that toe-curling call.

When I finally met him…I wasn’t disappointed, exactly. Okay, maybe I was a little. He looked like an ordinary guy, not a romance cover model. Just a nice man. And putting a face to the voice, changed the experience a little. But apparently not so much I forgot him. Lol

I remember having a somewhat similar experience as a young wife. I called the Hubs at work and this breathy, definitely sexy, voice answers.

I will admit that I pictured some Marilyn Monroe type with her hip propped on his desk and red-tipped fingers wrapped around the receiver of his phone, her blonde hair swishing against her almost bare shoulders.

When the hubs picked up, I was like, “Who was that?”

I can still remember how bewildered he sounded. “Who was who?”

“That woman!”

He started laughing. She wasn’t even in his office. Poor girl had to answer the phone for a floor full of geologists who marked time in plus or minus a million years. (Through the years I got to be good friends with all the poor women who answered the phone for my hubs.)

Yes, I met her at the company Christmas party, and she was pretty and nice, but not Marilyn Monroe or her cousin. Just a very nice girl with a sexy voice. (The only time I have a sexy voice is when I have a bad cold.)

Funny how many memories an old desk can stir up, isn’t it? And how different an old desk can look, through the lens of time. I know I didn’t think anything much about it then, except that it felt cool to sit at a desk in an office. (I liked the drawers, because they had compartments. What is the appeal of compartments?) And it was a desk. In an office.

I was a little worried about showing the hubs this very old school desk, because that sucker is HEAVY, but he was delighted with it and is now happily at work in there. As you can see, he has occupied the desk. Lol

It is a reminder to me, again (slow learner!) to try to keep my eyes seeing as “new” as possible. Or to at least take a second look, or even a third, until I see what is there.

Have you done that? Seen, but not seen something, until you do a double take?

I love comments so much that I pick a favorite to receive my monthly AnaBanana gift basket ($25 value).  (And don’t forget that once a quarter I’ll be tossing in something fun from the Perilously Fun Shop!) Recipient is announced the first blog post of the new month.

Perilously yours,

Pauline