FRENCH WORD-A-DAY

Having just retired from 40 years in the field of education, I'll look back to an earlier time ... my first job that I thought of as being a job was as a telephone operator back when the ladies still said, "Number please". My little community was the last to go dial I think. Before that I picked rye at a penny a bunch for my father; I moved to town and helped my brother deliver newspapers, mowed lawns,shoveled snow from sidewalks and babysat at 25 cents an hour - all worthy occupations.

My first job (at not quite 16) was working the counter in a Donut shop alongside my older sister. In the beginning, the aroma of fresh donuts in the wee hours of the morning was irresistable. The perks of taking leftovers home for free was even better. But after several months of sugar overdose our appetites soon settled down and the alure of donuts has never quite been the same.....

My first job was working in a drug store behind the main counter and delivering the prescriptions. I had to refer people to the druggist when they asked for "things" that at 16 I wasn't supposed to know about. Now those "things" are openly displayed and sold to anybody who can reach the counter.

It's going to be a clear, sunny day witha high in the 60s in St. Paul.

My first paid job was in a ski shop.

XOXO

MOM

I washed cars on a used car lot at thirteen. The next summer I got a job in a factory [my father signed a release with the state] and again the following summer. I didn't understand until recently that my father knew what was coming for me and was setting up my "real life" education. I am so grateful. When he died the following winter, I was prepared. I went to work in a gas station [gas: 13.9¢/gal] and continued doing les petits boulots till I got a college degree. It's an educational system to be missed in the US today.

As an almost-lifetime Arizonan, my first job was a lifeguard/swimming instructor. I am fair-skinned, so I always had a blob of white zinc oxide on my nose.

Of course, I have to comment about dear Smokey-Dokey! Everything I've read says that components of dog saliva possess some mild antiseptic abilities. The act of licking the wounds on a more occasional basis can remove dead skin cells, thereby promoting healing. However, agressively licking a wound can delay healing of the dog's wound or incision. So watch to make sure that Braise's licks aren't causing additional injury to Smokey's wounds.

And be sure to keep Smokey on the antibiotics for the entire time the vet prescribes them (sometimes 6-8 weeks, since corticosteroids used in topical ointments can often slow down the effect of antibiotics--sigh).

Lots of hugs, lots of praise, and lots of treats will help speed the healing process, too!

--Catherine
Leesburg, VA (47F/8C rising to 74F/23C today--yippee!)

I worked in a mom and pop ice cream store in Dayton, Ohio for my first job when I was 15 1/2. What a dangerously wonderful job surrounded by all the delicious, homemade ice cream! :)

My first shop was selling snacks in a movie theater. It was fun, and we got to see all the free movies we wanted. The downside was the butter popcorn -- I gained 15 pounds that summer!

I was my mother's free domestic -- but boy did I learn how to clean those baseboards and iron pillowcases :-)

Oh the beautiful fall colors in the vineyard! And captured so well through your objectif. Merci! My first job apart from mowing lawns and babysitting was in eighth grade and I failed miserably. changing sprinkler pipes as a boarder, living away from home on someone else's farm and being too much of a weakling to lift the pipes when they were full of water. I lasted about 3 days before the farmer and I realized I wasn't going to get any stronger any time soon. I then moved on to all sorts of farm jobs, truck driver, logger, metalworker, road maintenance, mechanic and then at 38, went back to school and became a teacher at 42. What a ride!
I find it interesting that this question has brought a lot of men out of the woodwork, so to speak, on a blog usually posted by les femmes! Thanks, Kristin for this beautiful spot on the web!
Cool (19 celsius) and sunny in Tripoli.
BL

My first job was trainee architectural draughtsman and tea boy working for an architect in Fort Victoria. The town has had a name change to Masvingo. It is in Zimbabwe.
I then decided to become an architect in 1956 and today I am a retired architect and tea boy!

My first job was working at a dry cleaners as a counter girl after school and on Saturdays. I started when I was 15 and worked there all through high school. All of my friends worked there too, so we always had a lot of fun! I loved having my own money – it gave me self-confidence and helped prepare me to eventually put myself through college and work for what I wanted. The lessons I learned were invaluable. I am only 39, but I see a lot of the kids today being given everything with nothing expected of them. It makes me sad that they do not know the joy and self-satisfaction to work for something.

My first job was shelving books in my college library and it was over the heavy engineering tomes that I met my future husband. It wasn't until later that I realized, regardless of how many books he pulled off the shelves, he wasn't always there to study :-)

A daily and a Sunday paper route, followed by washing dishes and serving ice cream in a sandwich/ ice cream local chain. Worst job, summer after college, waiting to go in to Naval OCS: Putting hot tar roofs on old New England factories. I will never forget it.

At 16 in 1953 I, like most teenagers in DeKalb, Illinois (corn country) worked in the summer detasseling corn! Usually lasted 3 or 4 weeks.
We loved it, got a good tan, lost a few pounds and earned money for back to school clothes. It was a desirable job for teens.

Jean Lillibridge in Shreveport, Louisiana, 65 F and overcast.

My first job(s) included babysitting for two incredibly unruly young boys and tutoring 4 well-behaved (but going blind) boys from another family. I found both jobs extremely challenging. The brats were unbearable and I kept feeling bad about the other boys. Of course I was getting paid for all of this at age ~14? We all had many many types of assorted housework and garden work to do, including picking cherries and apples in the farm. Those we did not care about at all because we also stuffed our faces with unwashed fruit.

What do you do with your olives?

Very interesting to read about all the jobs. Kristin, how did you circumvent the child-labor laws, especially working in a restaurant at 14?

Like many of you, I did babysitting and house and yard work as a teenager (no car to go anywhere else), and the summer I graduated from high school I was a "gate guard," kind of a part-time receptionist, at the local pool.

My first "real" job, after my freshman year of college, was filing insurance policies by seven-digit number, along with a lot of other boring and go-fer type tasks. One summer was enough. The following year, I found a law firm, which invited me back for two additional summers.

Re the comment about today's kids: yes, some have no expectations, either their own or from anyone else. But judging from my own son's experiences (18 years old, high-school graduate, but no specialized skills), it is harder today for youth to find work, especially in today's economy. At least at the grape farm, there is always work available.

Mona: (Re what are we doing with those olives): Jean-Marc has them in a special solution (which he changes daily). Next step is to add the herbs and to marinate them. I know so little about the process... except that a family member gave him the recipe. We have one row of olive trees here, so the "récolte" was precious!

Marianne: I remember having any problems getting the job at that age; it was in Carefree, Arizona -- a small town at the time. Next, I worked as a waitress in Cave Creek (for a little deli) at 15. Maybe that was under the table pay. I did not last long at the job. I've never been able to do too many things at once.

Keep the job memories coming. It is fun reading :-)

My first job was at Bel Air Bay Club in Pacific Palisades, CA back in the early 1970s - I was the Summer Coach and I taught kids paddle tennis.

Bonjour!
My first job was as a babysitter in a small Ohio town. Some years later a friend gave me a catalog of a photo exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art in New York. As I perused the catalog I came upon photos of some lovely young woman and recognized them. They were some of the children I use to babysit all grown up. Now I'm a grandmother of a charming, half French granddaughter and I hope I get to babysit for her as well!

Edie Schmidt

Edie Schmidt

Great post today Kristin, and much love and hugs to Blaise and baby Smokey. May the healing speed up!

My first job at 13 was a Saturday morning one in Woolworths at the lingerie counter, folding lingerie every time someone looked at something. Hard to imagine now when everything's wrapped in cellophane or strung up to view :-)

I learnt early about the value of hard work and getting paid for it and have a healthy reverence for and understanding of money. Work ethic is something which doesn't seem to exist much these days.

What a wonderful idea to get us to share our thoughts like this - thanks for the memories!

Frenchified Teena
http://A-Night-in-Paris.com

Currently living in Sydney where it's a warm 20degC on this delightful summer morning :-)

Kristin:
Beautiful photos!!!!
I was 14 years old, my uncle and his partner owned an oncology lab. I remember having to write (can't remember what it was now)with a pen that had a diamond tip on glass slides that contained pap smears.

Bill and Bob Sheriffs were two brothers from Scotland who purchased and operated an A&W Root Beer Stand in Lander, Wyoming. I believe the year was 1961 when my buddy, Don Morrison and I both got jobs there. I recall the Baby, Mama, & Daddy mugs of root beer we served. They were stored in a stainless steel apparatus, lying down in ice cold water .. that's how the frostiness was always acquired. The root beer syrup was a 5 to 1 mixture (5 parts water to 1 part syrup)to the best of my memory, and the floor was always sticky. We actually had carhops! I recall a car from New York showing up one day, and the two gentlemen had a record player that folded out of the dash! Now, this is in times when the only player WAS a record player .. no 8 tracks, no casettes .. only vinyl 33 1/3 discs or 45 RPM discs. We all went out to the car to view this magical machine. First time any of us had ever seen anything other than an AM radio in a car. I mentioned Don Morrison, my friend ... well, we were typical teenage boys I suppose, and one day we did what many teenage boys do .. the wrong thing. Underneath the restaurant was the reefer, or walk in freezer, where all the food was stored. I'm ashamed to admit it now, but Don and I illegally apprehended two steaks that were used in the steak sandwich, and we stuffed them in our pants. Such a couple of conquering heroes we thought we were back at home .. my parents were both working and we cooked those morsels up for an afternoon feast .. probably giggling like only foolish young boys can giggle when the angst of guilt hangs over them. Oh, but dear readers, know there is no victory in theft! I'll not forget the look on my Mothers face the next morning, as she entered my room, holding in her hand my very bloody pair of underwear .. soaked with the shame of dishonesty. I'll never forget the "Billy, are you alright Honey?" and I was well into my forties before I related this story to my Mother. I've not stolen anything since. Oh, and the universe gave me payment for my deed .. some of you may recall the megaphone looking quart container you could purchase for root beer to go. The typical way we filled them was to prop them under the "pull forward handle dispenser" and let them fill while we accomplished other tasks (though we were constantly told by Bill & Bob not to do this). I became infamous for letting one of these containers "fill" for about five minutes while I went to the bathroom. It filled the entire restaurant .. and I was asked to resign. I still love A&W Root Beer.

My first job was "raspberry picker."

this comment is about smokey rather than a job. dogs' saliva is supposed to have antiseptic properties -- having a dog lick a wound is supposed to help it heal (this i learned ages ago from a blind friend with a guide dog who was being chastised by someone for letting her dog drink from a drinking fountain for people. she politely informed that person that even if Inka did (and she apparently did not) touch the spout with her tongue, it would not spread noxious germs. if this is true, and i believed it, then braise is helping smokey's wounds to heal.....

My first job is an American classic. Does "Can I take your order please?" ring any bells? Yes, a window person at the Golden Arches of McDonald's, raking in a whopping $1.80 an hour. I think a Big Mac cost $1.30 back then. Wow, 35 years goes by pretty fast.

Same as Kevin, McDonald's. Great memories, actually. I had to get there at 4 a.m. and make the biscuits on weekends.

Gorgeous pictures of olives!

My first job, at 16, was as a seasonal stock room clerk, ticketing Christmas merchandise for the Lipman's dept store in Salem, Oregon, where my sister worked as the manager of the Caliente dept. It was also the one & only time I filed a Workman's Comp claim. I was so intent on getting the row of tickets lined up neatly that it didn't occur to me that the reason they were so straight was because I was holding them in place with my finger. I turned on the machine and promptly (and painfully) "stamped" my finger! It didn't require stitches but the deep gash from the metal machinery did make my employer insist that I get a tentanus shot. That was almost worse than the cut itself.

The next year my sister got promoted to lingerie buyer and transferred to the main store in Portland, Oregon, where she alerted me to a position opening at The Portrait Studio at Lipman's (an in-store branch for a well-known portrait photographer in the area). I worked there for a year, but didn't make too much money since I spent most of my earnings on film for my camera & paying my sister back for all the pretty clothes she could purchase for me with her buyer's discount.

After my then-boyfriend (now husband of 39 years) returned from Vietnam, I took a job as office manager with a small architectural firm in the near-by town of Beaverton, where he was working at the time we got married.

But my most rewarding job has been as a full-time homemaker (or shall we call it family concierge) and "mom." When my husband got a much-coveted job with the Oregon Army National Guard (first as helicopter mechanic...later working himself up the ladder to Maintenance Officer for the whole Aviation Facility), I quit paid employment so I could be free to travel with him during the winter when the aircraft are usually grounded by the weather. Since Guard members acrue leave time just as military personnel do, we often had a month or two of vacation time built up.

People asked me what I was going to do after I "retired" as Mom, but I don't think you ever really do retire from that role. :-) And now I'm "grand-mere" to the-most-adorable-petite-fil-in-the-whole-wide-world (a.k.a. 3-yr.-old, "Zachary") and ma belle-fille is pregnant with a second child.

D'Neal in Keizer, Oregon
where it has been about 54°F and raining all day

Hi Kristin,
Nice photos of your son and brother-in-law. My premier petit boulot was as a cashier at Grandma's Biscuits in Jonesboro, GA. Overcast and 55°F here in Charlottesville, VA.

Growing up on Cape Cod in Massachusetts, my father owned a small retail store that sold everything from beach towels, gift items, office supplies, cameras and newspapers. Our life was seasonal. During the school year, my sisters and I received a weekly allowance, but as soon as school was over, the allowance ceased and we were expected to have a job. My parents wanted to instill in us "the value of a dollar". My first unpaid job was in my father's store where I'd assemble the Sunday NY Times for customers, mark (price) inventory and ring up people's purchases in the cash register - all when I was less than 4 feet tall. When it came time to make money, I'd had enough of retail and went to work in my mother's best friends' restaurant. I started working in this restaurant when I was 14 (child labor?) and worked there every summer until I was 22. I began as a salad and desert "girl", moved up to being a bus "girl" and finally was a waitress. Being on Cape Cod in the summer and loving the beach as I do, this was the ideal job for me. The restaurant only served breakfast and dinner, and they served no alcohol - a real family vacation restaurant. Breakfast was from 7:00 a.m. to 11:00 a.m. and dinner was served between 5:30 p.m. and 8:30 p.m. Perfect hours to go to the beach all afternoon and go out with friends after work, AND make oodles of money. My sisters both worked for my father and the store hours were from 7:00 a.m. to 9:00 p.m. AND they made minimum wage, which was a lot less than I was making with tips. It was hard work but I loved it. I certainly learned the value of that dollar but also the rewards (not just financial) of working hard at something you love doing ... it's not work!

Babysitting the four kids next door at 75 cents/hour was my first paying job. As a junior in high school I moved on to the laundry room of a convalescent home in Walnut Creek, CA. I started at $1.42/hour. My hourly rate was raised to $1.47 and 1/2 cents after 3 months! College jobs included working vacations as a nurse's aide at the convalescent hospital, selling burgers at McDonalds, selling men's clothing at a store in Greeley, CO and a summer stint selling souvenirs at Rocky Mountain National Park.

Kristin--I, too, was a paper-girl at age 8 or 9--a job I inherited from my big brother.
I was so embarrassed each Thursday when I had to go to school, lugging the canvas sack that carried our local newspaper . . . eve robillard