making the best of it

This weekend I was stuck working in the cold rain. I had on gloves, hand warmers, and a scarf in May. It was so cold that I came up with a plan to wrap my feet in paper towel to "warm them." It worked. I could've complained the whole time or looked annoyed at all the parents and children who foolishly came out in that crap weather. But there's something about working there that makes bad days like that more fun. We're surrounded by people who can laugh at the situation and get through it. That's a nice atmosphere to work in.

I suppose that's what gets me to come back. I don't make very much. I could easily make more working somewhere else. There's something about the Village, though. It's beautiful in the fall. It is magical at night. There are so many crazy people who work there. You can't get through a shift without something ridiculous happening. However, those experiences are how I met some of my closest friends.

A part of the magic is my father. He took me there so many times. He thought he'd be able to be a glass blower when he retired. I'm glad he passed away with the belief that it was possible without a degree in fine arts. He and I watched historic baseball, rode the carousel, ate lunches at the Taste of History, rode the Model T, and even ate our weight in frozen custard a billion times over again. When I see children with their fathers it makes me smile. The place creates memories and traditions. I know that walking around those grounds with my father helped shape who I am and I like that I can be a part of those traditions for others.