File this post under completely random.  Mmmkay?

First things first, up here in Red Lake we are in the midst of a big pressure drop.  For those of you in the know, that can be rough on the fishing.  Tomorrow the high is in the mid-50’s.  Might dip into the 30’s the next few nights.  Don’t worry, by Thursday it could be 80 degrees again.  Sigh.  Those fishies aren’t going to know what to do!

Back to the post title – Petty Cash.  Here at Eagle Falls Lodge we try not to get bogged down by big corporate policies, micro-managing, you know – all those things that plague giant companies.  We are but small and humble.  In most work place settings, there might be a petty cash allowance for employees.  Eagle Falls Lodge is no different.  Mind you, we have no official dollar allowance set as to what is allowable in spending.  Basically our allowance is whatever you can scrounge up, you can have. To paint a picture as to what the current petty cash set up is like I must describe both the official town trip backpack and the Eagle Falls Lodge Suburban.

I’ll start by sharing that both the backpack and the vehicle are sadly in various states of disrepair.  My beloved orange backpack that was purchased before I started college has seen better days.  The padding on the straps and back of the pack are practically disintegrating.  One of the zippers is broken, and it has a multitude of unidentifiable stains which have truly set in over the past decade.  I LOVE this bag.  It has been across the globe, on both grand and small ventures.  Not once has it let me down.  I take this backpack to town every Tuesday and Friday – loaded down with everything necessary to get errands completed.  Perhaps most importantly it holds all my snacks.  If you know me AT ALL you know that I can’t go very long without eating.  Worst idea ever is sending me anywhere without appropriate snack supplies.  This is where the backpack becomes a problem for Travis.  He can’t confidently reach down into the depths of the bag without risk of finding a forgotten apple or granola bar that has since crumbled over whatever collection of ripped papers resting at the bottom of the pit.  Don’t forget all the kleenex- both new and used that are typically stored throughout the bag!  Sorry, my love.  Anywho, you get the picture.  The backpack is both a blessing and a curse.

The suburban also falls in this category.  Oh, the suburban.  Some of you might not know that this is the only vehicle we own.  Thats right, folks, we rock the Eagle Falls Lodge mobile 12 months a year.  Its real classy to show up at fancy events or meet new people for dinner and roll up in the dented and rusting out 16 (almost 17!) year old Suburban.  But I must stop the bashing here, because this vehicle gets the job done.  It is the perfect truck to get when you buy a fishing lodge. It can haul anything and we mean ANYTHING!.  Boat motors, trash, lumber, groceries, water filters, bait, Timbits, propane, toilets (yes, actual toilets), fuel, fishing gear, the key ring with all keys needed in town, and humans.  Possibly all at the same time!  I usually try and keep a few snacks in here as well.  And it has a variety of random papers, change, tools, etc.  Its like a mobile junk drawer.  Its a work horse and we love it.  Certainly not the most fuel efficient option, but it has never let us down.  Its getting a bit beat up, though.  Earlier this spring someone hit the side view mirror and almost ripped it completely off.  Don’t worry, we found the duck tape in the truck and fixed that baby right up!  And the other day I went to open the door to get out of the truck and the interior door handle ripped off.  Yep.  So now we do that thing where every time you park the truck you roll the window all the way down, stick your arm out the window to open the door, roll the window back up, then get out.  That is after your muscle memory has reached to the left to open the door and there is nothing to grab, and you may or may not have just scratched your arm on the sharp pokey bit left from the door handle that once was.

So there you have it: sad backpack, sad suburban, both equally loved.

But what does ANY of this have to do with petty cash?  Well, last week I was in town getting all the errands completed when I found myself in the Tim Horton’s parking lot.  Seriously, it just happens.  I don’t know how I end up there!  I thought a medium coffee would be just the ticket and so I blindly reached in the backpack for my wallet.  For the petty cash.  I couldn’t find it.  I dug a little deeper.  Where the heck was it?  I mentally backtracked all my errand stops and realized I had yet to actually need or use my wallet that day.  We have an account at most stores in town, so we just pay our monthly invoice vs paying for each purchase.  I sadly came to the conclusion that I had forgotten my wallet at the lodge.  This is right behind in severity to leaving the town list at the lodge.  You are dead in the water without the town list.  Not to mention I was now cruising around town without my drivers license.  Oops.  I was now relying on my constant disregard for ever actually cleaning out the backpack or the truck and hoped against all hopes there was enough petty cash (or in this case, most likely coin) to buy myself coffee.  I pillaged every pocket of the backpack and came up with a few grimy coins.  I was half way there.  Next I checked the seats of the truck and found a few more coins.  In our console, we try and keep a collection of US and Canadian change – which got me just enough.  A medium coffee is $1.80 or $1.91 with tax, not that I would know.  I had just enough.

As I left with coffee in hand, I made a mental note to bring up the possibility of bumping up the petty cash allowance at the next board meeting.  I don’t know if $2 in change is going to cut it.  We’ll put it to a vote.

Happy Monday folks.

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