The third chick
This may look like a photo of three chicks having a tasty mojito at Sambuca. And it is. But context is everything. We are having a tasty mojito after Betsy and I had moved into donated warehouse space, had fielded what seemed like a thousand phone calls of people who needed help and people offering help, had spent an hour wading through the contaminated muck at the Community Resource Center in our designer rain boots and found the equivalent of a female knight in shining armor willing to throw in with the two chicks. And, yes, all three of us know were were having bad hair days.
Kim Council has become the third chick. We don’t just let anybody into our small circle. Any chick candidate must be “can do” – self-directed, Type A, no whining. Absolutely no whining. Drama of any kind is not allowed at CRC. Kim meets those qualifications. Plus she’s funny. Funny goes a long way with us.
So after we secured the temporary warehouse space but before we had to go back into the flooded warehouse, I realized Betsy and I needed help. I called Kim and left a message. “Kim, two of us can’t do this alone. I need a third general.” She called back. “General Kim reporting for duty.”
And she was right there. She drove right over and took charge of the temporary warehouse while Betsy and I went to CRC. Betsy and I don’t do pity parties. It’s not in our DNA. But after we got back from the land of toxic poo water, we needed a stiff drink. So we welcomed Kim into the exclusive domain of chickdom with a mojito at Sambuca.
Betsy, Kim and I are splitting our hours at the temporary warehouse. Kim is working on getting us a donated server and computers. She’s handling getting the word out to local media that we are pushing out emergency supplies to flood victims. She came up with the last two on her own. Self-directed. And funny. As I said, funny goes a long way with us. Especially right now.