Working for Barbara

My friend Barbara sells books, African art, jewelry and ethnic clothing plus clothes that she designs and makes. During the season she is open 7/7, and I try to work for her a couple of afternoons a week to give her a breather and/or catch up on her sewing. If I don’t work, I feed her a couple of times so she doesn’t have to cope with dishes. This is not for money, nor does it take a job away from anyone because she would not hire anyone for these shifts.

She’s been my neighbor in three different places over the last 25 years and we’ve developed an easy friendship that is based on good times, meal sharing, and what do you need. Thus we’ve shlepped things up and down stairs, driven places to accomplish whatever.

Thursdays afternoons tend to be quiet, but it is always a surprise who might come in. Two women from Toronto wanted bracelets for one of the women’s daughters, a young boy was disappointed that we had nothing Mexican and an English woman and her American friend came in. The American was like Barbara and I, a person who spent more time outside our native country than in it.

Across the narrow street, Hugo, a two-year old, walks out on his balcony. He spends a lot of time on his balcony watching people walk up and down the street. He spies me sitting in the store and laughs as I wave.

On hot days I might sit outside the store and chat with Babette, the green grocer, the jeweler or anyone else who works by. It is a nice break from writing.