I'll admit to enjoying the task of mopping.  In my early memories, I can remember being the family basement mopper, taking on the laundry area, which also served as our cats' litterbox area, as one of my star-chart jobs.  I tried to make it seem like a terrible job, so the feeling of accomplishment at being able to show off the clean space when I was done felt much greater. But I did enjoy it.

When I was 14, after my father died suddenly, I was a taken in by my church and given a part-time job as a church custodian.  The job was both a way to give my family a little income and a way to connect me with the men who cared for our church.

Because my grandmother worked as the church secretary, my sister and I spent quite a bit of time as young children around the church office and had lots of interactions with other church staff. The custodians seemed a bit out of place - too rough, too curt, too concerned about little things that were out of place.  Our best plan: just try to stay out of their way.

When I was offered the position as a weekend helper for the custodian team, these impressions weighed on me.  I was grateful enough that accepting the position was the right thing to do.  I just wasn't sure how this was all going to work out.  Fortunately, both Mr E and Ray, his assistant, were not what they seemed.  As they shared with me the world of the custodial rooms, with their tools and keys, and switches and machinery, I learned there was a wealth of knowledge and skills necessary to maintaining a large building like this.  I was moved by the recognition that the work they did behind the scenes to make everyone else's experience comfortable was how they saw themselves being of service to the church.

I still remember one of the first tasks I was taught.  Mopping.

I thought I knew how to mop, after all, I had been mopping the basement for years.

But Ray led me through a whole new way to think about how mopping works. He described how there are wet, damp and dry methods for taking care of a variety of situations.  He gave detailed directions on caring for the mops we would be using.   He demonstrated for me each of the methods and watched me carefully as I did my best to follow his lead.  Mopping became serious work.  Through the several years I held my job at the church as a custodian, I developed such a love of mopping that I began looking for ways to build that into other positions that followed.

Movie theater usher: well, the mopping there was all about the sticky-factor - satisfying but not so fun.

Convenience store stocker and cashier:  I claimed the end of day shifts because then I could mop the aisles (a zig zag course) to end the evening.

Visitor Services manager with the Minnesota Children's Museum: yes, I often shared the mopping duties in the exhibits with my staff, just to get my fix.

School Teacher (middle school drama club leader): mopping the stage after students left became my way of decompressing after these fun but chaotic afternoons.

And now, here at Butter as owner/operator: end of day closing mopping duties are part of my daily and weekly routine. Embodying Ray, and teaching "how to mop" is one of my favorite parts of the onboarding process with new staff.

Yes, there is still the sense of accomplishment at seeing a dirty floor become a clean one (if even for a short time).  The repetitive motion of mopping can become a meditation of sorts as I follow the path I've created to maneuver through the cafe.  And, yes, the sense of service, the work behind the scenes, the creation of a comfortable space, still fills me with purpose.

Some nights I find myself humming a song Michael Johnson introduced to me, "It's My Job" which includes a response from a happy, whistling street sweeper -

'He said it's my job to be cleaning up this mess

And that's the best reason to go for me

It's my job to be better than the rest

And that makes the day for me'

It could be easy for me to feel bitterness at being the one holding the mop at the end of a long week.  It could be easy to push the task onto anyone else and not even think about it.  It could be easy to feel discouraged that I don't have enough profit in hand to pay someone to take on this task on a regular basis.  It could be easy to forget that all the small tasks we do here at the cafe have meaning and purpose and each one of them contributes to creating a space that feels warm and welcoming.  And when I am tired, pressed for time, or feeling particularly alone in the work of running this restaurant, it could be very easy to get down on myself for being the one who mops the most.

But, just by being willing to take pride in a small task like this makes mopping yet another way for me to find joy in owning and operating this little neighborhood bakery / cafe.  As this year begins anew, a fresh start of sorts, know that I'll be mopping a clean path for you and hoping you'll join me on this ongoing journey.