THE BEAUTY OF HINDSIGHT 

Math has never been and will never be my strong suit.  But when I was fourteen, you might have thought math was my best subject.

At the end of 8th grade I took a placement test and scored high enough to take advanced algebra.

When my freshman year began at Jeffersontown High School in Louisville, Kentucky, I was proud to be part of Ms. Leslie's advanced class.  But after a few lessons, I realized this was not the right place for me.  I was in over my head.  Equations looked like a foreign language to me.  A blurry foreign language.  Vanity called and I gave up wearing my glasses—there were so many cute boys in class.

Ms. Leslie intimidated me.  No, let me rephrase that.  She scared the hell out of me.  She never smiled.  She was firm.  She was totally all business.

I wanted to do well in class, but the book was impossible to follow and there was no way to approach a teacher who frightened me.  Looking back, if I had been braver and asked for help, I would have probably made fewer Ds in algebra.

Ah, the beauty of hindsight.

Since then, my math skills have not improved that much.  I have a habit of overestimating.

I overestimate when packing for a trip and bring

• way more clothes than necessary: 14 outfits, two jackets, earmuffs, scarves and gloves—I kid you not—when going to Spain for a week in April.  

• too many meds:  Tylenol, muscle relaxer, Imitrex, Flonase, Pepto Bismol, Imodium, Naproxen, decongestant, antihistamine, Benadryl.    

• too much jewelry:  earrings, bracelets, and bangles for every outfit. 

• too many hair products which I won't list because this in itself is another blog.

I overestimate when cooking for a family gathering (20 pieces of chicken for five people, right?)

I overestimate when I should arrive for an event (an hour is not too early, is it?)

Sometimes, I underestimate.  When Jim and I got married, we held the ceremony and reception at a Spindletop Hall, a historic mansion in Lexington.  The ceremony took place in the library.  A very small library.  The room only held 200 people.  We invited 210 people.  We counted on five couples declining. 

They showed up.

I have a habit of overestimating more than underestimating, like the time I had my first book signing.  Two hundred invitations were sent to family and friends.  Of course, not everyone could attend.  There was a nice turnout, but true to form, I overestimated how many books would sell.  

And then there was a school visit.  I was scheduled to give nine classroom visits over two days.  The teachers gave me a head count of 225 students.  

I thought half of the students might like to buy Maggie.  Roughly 112 books.  Then, I thought that's being too optimistic.  It seemed reasonable to order two cases of books.  Each case has 25 books.  Surely, I could sell this quantity.   

I sold 14 books.

That said, I still have quite a few more copies.  I would love to sell them.  Each and every one of them.

How many do I have?

It might be best if you did the math.
   

✌ and ♥

COMMENTS:

Read it. Enjoyed it. I don't know what that stuff is on the chalkboard, but I think it's way beyond algebra!  M. Cook

WHERE'S THE BEEF JERKY?

I could have sold more copies of Maggie at a holiday craft fair...but I sat next to Beef Jerky Man.

Last year at the fair, I shared a table with Peggy Park, author of Grandmother's Journal.  At first, we were nervous.  Our table was in a room off the beaten path of the main lobby.  We figured the foot traffic wouldn't be as good and that people wouldn't find the smaller room.  But, we were pleasantly surprised.  People visited the lobby and then wandered into our room to buy jewelry, candles, holiday crafts, handbags, and paintings.  Peggy and I were the only book sellers and since we did quite well with sales, we decided to share a table again for this year.

But this year...oh my goodness.  Our table was next to K. C., a man who sold homemade beef jerky.

Beef jerky is a dried meat snack.  It is made by marinating beef in a curing solution and drying it. Meat treated in this fashion has unique flavor and a long shelf life.  Native Americans smoke-dried meat to preserve it and are credited for the invention of this meat-processing technique.  

Beef jerky is advertised as a nutritious product which is low in cholesterol and high in protein.  It was used during World War I as a source of protein for soldiers.  Astronauts travel with beef jerky.  It is a 2.5 billion-dollar-industry in the United States.

While beef jerky is touted as being a healthy snack, it can be high in fat and sodium.  As reported by Sara Ipatenco for Healthy Eating, "A 1-ounce portion of beef jerky contains 116 calories and 7 grams of fat, of which 3 grams are saturated.  While beef jerky also contains heart-healthy monounsaturated fat, much of the fat in the food is saturated.  If your diet contains large amounts of saturated fat, you're at an increased risk for heart disease.  A diet high in saturated fat can boost your cholesterol levels. Too much saturated fat as a regular part of your diet can also elevate your risk of developing type 2 diabetes."

Ipatenco advises to "look for beef jerky that contains small amounts of saturated fat.  Many brands manufacture thin strip versions of meat, which are often lower in total fat and saturated fat.  Opt for low-sodium versions of beef jerky as well; they are more nutritious than traditional versions." 

I wasn't sure about the quality of K.C.'s beef jerky.  But, I do know he sold an assortment of flavors:  peppery, spicy, teriyaki, scorpion (hot chili pepper) to name a few and that people flocked to his table.  I could tell in the opening minutes of the fair that we were doomed.  I could feel it in the air.  Peggy and I could not compete (not that this was a competition, mind you) with beef jerky.

K.C. had a simple table.  Four white baskets filled with plastic bags of jerky.  Nothing fancy.  On the other hand, our table was bright and cheery.  Welcoming.  We had a bright red tablecloth.  We had books wrapped in Christmas ribbons.  We had adorable plush puppies and Hershey's kisses.  Still, we were no match.  People never even saw our table.  They walked right past, hypnotized by the lure of beef jerky.  I'm not kidding—people waved money in the air as they approached K. C.'s table.

When the fair was over late afternoon, K.C. counted his money.  He meticulously laid it out on top of his table in four stacks.  With that much money, he probably figured it made sense to separate it into denominations of ones, fives, tens, and twenties, but I'm sure he had no clue how it looked to other vendors.  Sitting next to him made me feel uncomfortable and a little jealous.  I'm sure he wasn't trying to be boastful of his earnings, but he could have used more discretion.

Even at closing, crowds continued to flock to his table.  I wanted to get the courage to ask them to come over, pick up a book, and see the value in buying one.  Peggy's book is a wonderful way for grandparents to share their memories.  And picture books entertain kids while teaching them vocabulary and life lessons.

I wanted to tell people a book is a gift you can open again and again.  A book could last a lifetime.

It was useless.  Beef Jerky Man had a product that people craved.  A good friend of mine tells me that he buys beef jerky because it tastes great and it stays fresh for a long time.  That opinion seemed to be shared at the fair.  People were going gaga over beef jerky.  I never would have believed how popular it was if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes.

But all was not lost this year.  I met talented artists.  I sold a few books.  And, I learned an important lesson.  Next time, I won't use a red tablecloth.  Next time, I won't need ribbons or chocolate or plush toys.  Next time, I'll bring beef jerky. 

✌ and ♥