And often the cash register didn't ring

"Wir haben beide lang allein getingelt
"Und oftmals hat die Kasse nicht geklingelt
"Dann eines Tages lernten wir uns kennen
"Und seither wollen wir uns nie wieder trennen."

I heard these lyrics to a song in 1974. The copyright, of course, had to have been before that date. It's about travelling musicians who had done gigs in clubs and pubs at first and then--after meeting one another during a time in their lives when money was tight--they traveled and made their music together.



It takes a while in the video before you hear the actual bell of the cash register resound I take my imaginary hat off to cashiers at the local bakery who had to know how to cut bread (both by hand and by machine), weigh and measure cookies and cake with a slide rule scale, box baked goods and fasten them shut with knotted string, change the ribbon and paper in the cash register, and make change without a calculated difference between what was remitted from what was recorded.

My blog entry, however, is not a tribute to bakery employees (generally of the non-unionized variety) and their multi-task skills behind the showcase. This note is about a life in which the cash register doesn't ring. My life has similar lyrics. I didn't go straight from college graduation to professional career. In fact, I was never a professional. I was a word processor, office manager, travel agent, cab driver, volunteer, and later in life, nurse. While I don't roll coins (although I do bring a coffee can of loose change to SAFEWAY and use the contents to pay at the self-check-out counter), there are times when the paycheck needs help being stretched. I've told those near-and-dear to me that sometimes the food tastes better towards the end of the month because that is when the broth is made from vegetable scraps, or the frozen leftovers are reheated, or canned items are put into casseroles.

February is a short(er) month. I still have money in the bank and the refrigerator is not disappointing me with options. I'm glad to be working and eating in my 60s