The wife, daughter and granddaughter are all asleep. Tuesday through Saturday I work in a large industrial bakery from 3-11 that makes bread and buns for most local groceries as well as Burger King, Arbys, and Sysco, and even when the economy is slow the lunchpails of America still need sliced bread for their PB&J or bologna sandwiches.
Everybody needs bread, even people on a diet talk about not eating bread, all the while thinking about it. On an average week my bakery supplies over 1,000,000 pounds of white, wheat, rye, and multigrain bread and buns to semi trailers that leave our shipping docks 24 hours a day and deliver all over the area. This is the slow time of year, in the hot months orders for hamburger and hot dog buns almost double.
I do maintenance in the bakery so whenever any machine anywhere on the 200 yard long line breaks down, I and my co-workers arrive to assess and correct the problem, hopefully keeping the line moving. When it's not moving, supervisors swarm, sweat pumps shift to high speed, voices are raised, phone calls are made, contingencies are discussed, and the mechanics start repairing the crisis of the moment.
Monday, oh yeah, I was talking about Monday because of the 24/7 nature of the job I just took too much time in describing, days off are staggered and no more than 3 people can be off at any given time. I have seniority in our shop so I chose Sunday/Monday for mine. Most of the year they are OK, lots of things happen on Saturday I'd like to be there for, but Sunday is church and spend the day with the family. Then from August to February I'm off of work when the NFL is on TV.
I'll bet you were wondering how I was going to tie in all this nonsense with the primary reason for a football blog, right? Hah, just did it.
Well anyway here it is Monday night watching Jimmy Fallon (I hope most of you saw his show when he broadcast from Indy during Super Bowl week) doing some blogging, checking out facebook and my email. Overall doing nothing constructive other than effectively wasting an evening now that my granddaughter has gone to sleep. She is spending the night with us and I love having her here, it just seems warmer and more like a home when I hear giggles and the pound of running feet followed by "get me papaI"
Well, I probably should get some sleep, Eliza (granddaughter) is 3 and will be ready to go by 8 and I'm not known for my friendly demeanor when I wake up (read I'm a grouch) so to close this entry for tonight:
football football football football football football football football football football football football football.
After all this is a football blog, goodnight from Indiana Avenue.