Guys With Nametags Walking Down the Aisles, Rows of Garden Hoses That Go On For Miles and Miles

 So, the cats weren't super happy with me taking over their sunny window with my seedlings. Archie would jump into the pots and smoosh the soil with his very heavy body. Gus was pulling up the seedlings. I'm assuming, since it's Gus, that he wanted to eat them.

We decided the plants needed some protection, so on Saturday I headed to Ace Hardware to get some chicken wire. If you've ever been to an Iowa hardware store, you know the best time to go is during the day, during the week. That's when guys with names like Orville, and Floyd work. They are generally retired and this job is their social life, and they have probably used every tool in that store and know where everything is. You can even say you need a "thingy" to do a certain task, and they will know exactly what you're talking about and take you right to it. Sure, you might get an eye-roll out of it, but that's a small price to pay for efficient service.

On Saturday, Orville and Floyd are off and are replaced by people with names like, Logan, Ashlynn, and Braden. People with those names are just there because their parents made them get a job, and when you ask them how much anything is, they have to pull out a book, and look for a VERY long time and then tell you, "I asked them the price, and they never gave it to me, and I can't find it in this stupid book, and I don't even really want to BE here anyway." So, then you tell them that it's okay. You'll just get it at another store, and they thank you. 

When I was at the hardware store looking for the chicken wire, and not seeing one person who might be able to help me, I laughed to myself about how when I was a younger, punk rock looking chick, a salesperson would run up to me the minute I entered a store and very pointedly ask me if they could help me, as a reminder that they had their eye on me. Now, I'm apparently so old, and dowdy and non-threatening, that I could probably grab things off the shelves and stuff them down my shirt without even a how-do-you-do from the employees. 

Anyway, I grabbed my chicken wire, and a bag of peat moss, and had to go to Hy-Vee to get the fire wood,, since "Ashlynn" was too traumatized to do a price check for me. That's okay. I needed groceries anyway.

 On a less old-lady-cranky-pants note, we were able to successfully protect our seedlings from the cats. It isn't pretty, but it will only be another month or two, and then the cats can have their sunny South facing window back. I will also remember to head to the hardware store on a weekend from now on.