Rubber stamps.
Posted: February 16, 2012 Filed under: memories, work Leave a comment »
I’m a bit of a perfectionist. And I’m not saying that’s a good thing. There are times when I’m sure that I should let it go, but I want my work product to be as good as I can possibly make it.
I think my clients appreciate it. And I know they trust that I’ll do my very best for them. And I do.
But I wasn’t always like this.
A perfectionist, I mean.
My first job. I was about 10. Maybe a little younger – I don’t know for sure. My dad ran a magnet factory. Yup, folks, you heard me right. A magnet factory.
How’s business? Picking up! (yuk yuk yuk)
What an attractive business!
Strongest in the magnetic field.
You know, opposites attract.
Yes, I’ve heard ‘em all.
But I digress.
So my dad hired me when I was probably still in elementary school.
My job? To stamp the manilla envelopes. Small ones. Coin envelope size. Inside each was a sheet of magnutties – a sheet of scored magnetic rubber that you could break apart into 50 (or was it 100?) little teeny rubber magnets.
All I had to do was ink the stamper and stamp the envelopes.
Really big piles of envelopes.
I’m not saying it was hard, but you know what it’s like. Sometimes the stamp isn’t even. Sometimes some words don’t show up right.
I’m guessing I had an 80% success rate.
And that would have been peachy keen…except that when I messed one up, I didn’t set it aside. Instead, I’d put it in the middle of the pile so no one would see it.
At 10, that seemed like a reasonable plan. Who would know?
Turns out, I hadn’t thought it through. Because when the grown-up employees put the magnutties into the envelopes, it seems they noticed the crappy stamping job.
Maybe it was the incredible humiliation of what I’d done that drove me to do better. Or rather, drove me to higher expectations of myself. Or maybe, I learned that getting caught doing a bad job was so darn unpleasant that I’d do anything to avoid that again.
I suppose it doesn’t really matter what the motivation was. But here I am. Driven to over-deliver, to please, to exceed expectations.
And when the ink coverage isn’t good and the envelope is not up to par, I fess up and take responsibility.
That’s just how I roll.
Volunteering runs in my family.
Posted: February 14, 2012 Filed under: memories 2 Comments »
My grandmother was a professional volunteer. By 1963, she had given more than 10,000 hours to Sinai Hospital. They gave her a gold star pin and a diamond to commemorate her. Later, I remember a silver bowl she was awarded. But I know – for sure – that my grandmother did not volunteer all those hours for recognition. She loved her “job” and took it very seriously.
My mother has volunteered ever since I can remember. She has served Mildred Mindell Cancer Foundation in virtually every capacity – including President. She’s always been active in something. And I’ve always admired it.
What stands out for me the most is that, when I was in first grade, my mother was chair of June Jubilee at our elementary school. And she ran the silhouettes booth (I think my Aunt Phyl helped at the booth?). I remember how hard she worked. But mostly, I remember being so proud. MY mother made the most fun day of the school year amazing. And she bought me a Lemon Peppermint Stick – one of my favorite and stickiest treats.
Well, I suppose I am genetically predisposed to volunteering. I do my part in several organizations. I’ve worked hard. Mostly, I’ve found it tremendously rewarding. No recognition necessary.
But even though I’m a little shy about what I do, I would love to help my organizations get recognition. Who wouldn’t, right?
Cabot Creamery Cooperative (disclosure: this fab 1200 farm family owned coop is a client of mine) is sponsoring a new iPhone app – RewardVolunteers, that does that. You can log your hours for your organization for the chance to win cash and prizes for you and the organization. And think of the publicity. And how cool it would be to show how engaged the volunteer base is?
Yellowed love.
Posted: February 13, 2012 Filed under: family, love Leave a comment »
I never met my grandfather. He died January 1, 1958 leaving my grandmother a very young widow.
I don’t know why I absolutely love this 1.5″ plastic shamrock, marked on the back Chevrolet/Essex, MD. He wrote a note:
TO THE MOST BEAUTIFUL GIRL IN THE WORLD
and taped it with transparent tape, which is far from transparent all these years later.
Happy (almost) Valentine’s Day.
You can take the Husker out of Nebraska, but…
Posted: February 8, 2012 Filed under: memories Leave a comment »
So remember I mentioned the collection of postcards I’ve saved?
This one makes me teary-eyed. October 2, 2002.
Why I’m going to Blissdom – a haiku
Posted: February 7, 2012 Filed under: Uncategorized Leave a comment »
Learn, share, laugh, grow, think
Blissdom brings us together
Shared experience
Name Game
Posted: January 30, 2012 Filed under: kids, memories | Tags: boys names, brio trains, caboose, long train, thoughtful gift, wooden letters 2 Comments »
When each of my boys was born, my friends Risa & Howard sent wooden letters to spell the newborn’s name. (And a caboose and engine, of course.)
Think they’d be surprised to know that the long train with all three boys’ names lives in plain view all these years later?
It was such a wonderfully, thoughtful gift. Maybe I’ll pass the letters down with the brio trains someday…
Does anybody really know what time it is?
Posted: January 29, 2012 Filed under: home 5 Comments »About a month ago, Liz and I took a mini roadtrip to Gypsy Vintage. It’s a small monthly barnsale and, we learned, that Sunday is just a little too late. The hoards on Saturday evidently do some major picking.
But still, I found 2 things to love.
This castor oil bottle. The dried roses are remnants from a lovely bouquet that I’d held onto. I love them in this bottle.
The other was a 3+ foot diameter rusted double circle. While a little bent, it had some charm. I didn’t really know what I’d do with it, but while we chatted at the store, some interesting ideas were thrown out. I knew it had possibilities. And it was very inexpensive.
Back at home, my oldest son saw the circle and reminded me that we’ve been looking for a big clock and, you know what? This would make a great clock.
He was right. Today, we finished the project and hung the clock. I particularly love his idea that the movement be off-center. And we consciously left the dents and dings on the circle.
Our work here is done.
Postcards from the Edge
Posted: January 28, 2012 Filed under: kids, memories, travel 2 Comments »
I’ve saved every postcard that our family has received since the kids were born. I thought the boys would appreciate having them.
Stored in a vintage wine bottle basket, they quietly sit on a high bookshelf in my bedroom.
But I know they are there.
The basket caught my eye this morning and I had to take it down. I spent time with every card and smiled as I remembered the boys’ excitement as they looked at the pictures and I read them out loud…
Entering his 9th decade.
Posted: January 20, 2012 Filed under: family 2 Comments »In 2006 and 2007 and 2011 I wrote about my dad on his birthday.
This year, as he enters his 9th decade, I just want to post the cake I made for him. 
Happy Birthday, Dad.
I’m a little ashamed.
Posted: January 19, 2012 Filed under: family, memories 2 Comments »I should have been glad to see her. I should have been friendly.
I should have said hello.
But I didn’t.
I should have asked how she’d been. I should have told her she looks so much like her mother did.
But I didn’t.
She couldn’t see me. But I could see her. It’s always been that way. And I let it stay that way today.
I’m not proud.
But I just couldn’t bring myself back to look into the past. Or rather, I chose not to.
