A two-fer

June 11th....
You know the phrase “Brotherly love”? I’ve decided this isn’t a given. It’s definitely something that comes with age. The past few years I’ve done some reading on birth order. It really is fascinating, especially coming from a family as large as mine. Being the second child but oldest girl, I have traits of both the oldest and middle child. But since I am number two of five, I lean more toward the oldest child stereotype.

My oldest brother is a classic oldest child: more mature than his years, intelligent and relates better to older people than people his own age. My sister, Kirsten, who is smack in the middle of us, is a typical middle child. She is more reserved, is very willing to compromise and tends to get lost in a crowd. She’s a good listener but not much of a talker. Kaitlyn, being number four, has traits of the baby and the middle child. She is also a little reserved at times, but can also be the life of the party when she wants to. She’s used to being stepped on by us older kids, but doesn’t take it quite so easy. Kristopher is an obvious baby of the family. He is always talking. It’s hard to have a conversation with him because the words flow from one subject to the next before you can get a word in. He also is a whiner at times and has learned he needs to make a fuss to be heard amongst his siblings. And fuss he does.

Nate and his brother are eight and half years apart, making for an interesting study in birth order. Nate was used to being the only child until Ryan stepped in halfway through his childhood. Nate definitely is more of a type A personality. He is always planning, worrying about the future and tends to be the boss around the place. He despises laziness and sitting still, unless, of course, he’s the one taking the nap. Ryan is the baby 100 percent. He, like Kristopher, can whine with the best of them. He is used to taking orders and sometimes has a hard time getting anything done without someone there to prod him along.

Because of their opposite personalities, Nate and his brother don’t always get along the greatest. It seems the more time they spend together the worse it gets. It reminds me some of my sisters, who I couldn’t get away from fast enough when I left for college. All that seems to change as you get older and aren’t seeing them every single day. Kaitlyn and Kirsten are coming up for a little visit this weekend, and I couldn’t be more thrilled to see them. I hope Nate and Ryan will someday have a similar relationship. I have a feeling once Ryan leaves for college this fall the dust will settle. But until now, I’m going to be very careful whenever I open any barn doors. You never know when a bucket might come flying at your head.

. . . And June 18th
One of the occupational hazards of working with Todd is he helps organize the beer tents at Colby Cheese Days. That means I’m doomed to work there at least once for the weekend. Last year out of desperation Todd asked me to work a shift Saturday night. It actually wasn’t too bad and I had fun with it. So this year I told Todd he could sign me up for the Saturday night shift again.

A few days before the start of Cheese Days, Todd realized he’d made a mistake in the scheduling. With the antique tractor pull scheduled to start at 5:30 p.m. this year, there were only workers scheduled in the south stand until 6 p.m. He asked if I would come in a little early and help out. So after spending time at the Chariots of Cheese in the morning and pedal tractor pull and carnival in the afternoon, I headed back to Colby for a few shots of the antique pullers and free labor at the beer stand. I ended up working with Kelly, so we had a fun night chattering away between customers and restocking the tubs of beer, soda, water and ice. Although I had fun at the south stand as well, it is quite a bit different than the big north stand. At the north stand, you just need to be able to count tickets and run a tap. At the south stand there’s money involved and there’s the constant restocking of inventory. My special job became crawling in the tiny refrigerated trailer to dig out cases of beer and soda. Unfortunately, someone had placed our most popular seller in the back under another kind. It took some maneuvering, but I was able to dig out the 12-packs without getting locked in there.

Business was steady, but we still found time to indulge in some 50/50 tickets. Despite our best efforts to sway the sellers and even a plot to bribe the announcer, we didn’t win. As it got later, we faced a new challenge: no lights. Though someone had rigged up a flood light for us, it got harder to tell the difference between Busch Light and Bud Light while we tried to fish them from the icy water. Going into the trailer was even more fun, since I blocked any light that may be seeping in as soon as I climbed inside.

When the tractor pull wrapped up, Kelly and I packed away the merchandise for the evening, locked it all up and towed the lone cooler that would not fit in the trailer to the big stand. Since the north stand was going full bore, I stuck around and helped serve a few more hours. Nate, my sister, Kirsten, and several of Nate’s friends had made the trip south to check out Cheese Days, so I visited with them between pouring pitchers for thirsty Cheese Days-goers. At 1 a.m. business slowed, so I talked Nate into heading home. After all, the parade was now only a few hours away.