Thursday, April 7, 2011

Awesome Upbringing

My office at work is just doors down from the breakroom at it is pretty easy to overhear some conversations. I usually have to close my door due to the atrocious language that is used while they are complaining about not being able to increase their workforce status.

I am glad that I had wonderful parents who raised me with proper etiquette, work ethics, knowledge, people skills, etc. I am reminded almost everyday that not all people had that opportunity available to them, while some were able to figure it out themselves and learn these traits, others have no clue on how they should act and treat others (especially if they don't care for that person).

After around the age of 12, our family moved to a small farm; that is where the hard work started to fully come into play in my life. We were assigned daily chores inside the house and also outside; the outside chores included taking care of some farm animal both morning and night (i.e. cows, pigs, chickens, turkeys, horse, rabbits, dogs, and cats). I remember in the dead of winter at 6 am going out and breaking up the ice in the cows trough (which was an old bathtub), cleaning it out and putting in clean water, sometimes to spout near the trough was frozen and we had to haul water from the kitchen sink.

Along with animals we also had a very large garden, I mean massive, years later after the garden was cut down in size about three times, Dad mentioned that he couldn't believe how big that garden was; plus the normal yard of grass, flower beds, and newly planted trees (there was not a tree on the property) that needed to be weeded, mowed, and watered. I remember having to take 1-2 buckets of water to each tree for the first year to make sure they survived. Watering the massive garden was also a huge undertaking, every 10 days and 12 hours we had irrigation turns for like 4-6 hours, so one week we would have the water at 3-7 am and the next week it would be at 3-7 pm, just the thought of walking around the garden in the wee hours of the morning with a flashlight trying to see if the water reached to bottom of the rows is making me exhausted.

My parents wouldn't put up with anything that would berate us as a person, and they taught that bad language spoke loudly of what type of person was speaking. If we did say something bad, we would have our mouths washed out with soap, yes we had the same experiences that was shown given 'Raphie' in the movie 'The Christmas Story'.


So to my fellow coworkers complaints, all I can say is 'change your language and attitude and you might have a better chance'.

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