Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Food For Thought

Last week I attended the graduation of six of my former recruits. I was a proud Momma as I watched my babies stand before the community and receive their certificates. I'd be lying if I said I was I impressed with the way it was put together.... no honor guard and no bag pipes. Hello FKCC? My kids deserved better than the bush league ceremony that the college put together. My former supervisor didn't even know the names of the police officers that he was trying to introduce. I was embarrassed for him. Oh wait, no I wasn't. He showed everyone in attendance just what a donkey he really is. I may have smiled about it. A lot.

The purpose of the event was to celebrate the accomplishments of my babies and that's exactly what I did. They've come a long way from the day they stumbled into my office to hand in an application to the police academy. Wow. It's been a long ten months for them, but they are well on their way to bright futures. Congrats to them. They each made me very proud and I've no doubt that they will continue to do so. I look forward to rolling through Homestead/Florida City/Miami Dade and seeing them speed by in a patrol car.

On a related but different subject, I have decided not to pursue a career with the local law enforcement agency. Some of you think that a most unwise decision, but there's no way I could publish book #3 if I was on their payroll. I'd also have to seriously monitor what I publish on social media and we all know how difficult that can be for me. (Think back to the late July, voodoo doll fiasco.) I am who I am. I can't change it and probably wouldn't even if I could. I'm damn near 47 years old (how the flip did that happen??) and I don't enjoy the thought of returning to an environment where I have to bite my tongue, monitor every word that comes out of my face, and refrain from expressing my opinions. It wouldn't be worth the pay, the hours, or the irritation.

Fortunately, my Island Momma business has taken off like gangbusters, affording me the freedom to decline a more "traditional" means of earning a living. (I just looked up the phrase "coming on like gangbusters" on urban dictionary to learn about its origins...does anyone under the age of 70 say that? I mean other than me, of course.) I am fortunate and thankful to those who make this profession a wonderful way to support my family.

One of the greatest things about cooking for people is the ability to pick my hours. I don't have to miss important family events and I refuse to work holidays. My family time is so important. My baby girl is a sophomore in high school and I don't want to miss one minute of the time I have left. I can read the handwriting on the wall and that girl is destined for great things...but they won't be in the Keys. Her brains and talent will take her far away from this little island. I plan to do as much as possible with her before that happens.

I am very fortunate to be able to live the life I do. Thanks to those who make it possible, especially my husband Doug, who puts up with my latest and greatest most brilliant ideas and occasional mood swings (wink, wink...they might be more than occasional, but he's smart enough not to mention them). I know how lucky I am.


3 comments:

  1. Great stuff, but I have to say that you will get no sympathy from me about being nearly 47, I am not even sure if I can remember that time. Ask Doug if he can:))

    OK, I had to delete the previous attempt because I do not know how to proof read:)

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  2. I asked Doug if he remembered being 47. He gave me a blank stare. He doesn't know how old he is now (no one does),so he thought it was a trick question.

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