We have had hot water heater issues for the past two weeks. I noticed that the water was getting cooler and cooler a couple of weeks ago, and phoned the home service company that we pay for every month with our utility bill. I had never done this before, as we don’t have a lot of appliance repairs, and when it involves plumbing, I have always phoned a local plumber who does great work and who we have known for 35 years. I thought I could save some money.
I was told by the home service company that all the local contractors were booked out for two weeks, but they would find another one from nearby. Well, “nearby” turned out to be a guy from a little town north of Bismarck, more than 100 miles away. He arrived the next day, which was a Saturday, fiddled around and replaced a couple of parts and relit the pilot light, and that was it. So far, so good.
Last Saturday while our son and family were visiting, I noticed that the water was getting cooler and cooler, and saw that the pilot light had again gone out. This time I phoned our local plumber, who came over at 7:00 pm after he finished another job, relit the pilot light, posited a couple of theories for why it was happening, and told us to phone him if it happened again. He had a feeling that it would, but wasn’t sure. It indeed happened again on Monday, which was Memorial Day. Well, we phoned the plumber, who was again at another job, and he came over, replaced the one part the first plumber hadn’t replaced, and now it seems to be heating up just fine.
It is truly wonderful to see someone who is living out his/her vocation like our plumber is. Our plumber loves what he does. He comes on holidays. He is kind and competent. He is honest and reasonable. I doubt I will phone the home service company again unless the furnace goes out.
Did you ever feel you had a vocation that you had to fulfill? Who do you know who is living out their chosen vocation to the best of their ability?
Today is the first day of “Summer of Love”. Ten years ago, the owner of my company unveiled a summer employee appreciate program. The main components are no dress code (seriously – the printed instructions say “if you can’t get arrested wearing it, it’s good”), 7 half Fridays off with pay, food trucks on Wednesdays and dogs allowed on Fridays. There are usually three summer concerts as well on the big lawn of Building One, complete with snacks and beverages (of the alcoholic sorts). Most years we’ve received t-shirts or hats. It’s a lot of fun.
For opening day of Summer of Love I’m in shorts and one of my State Fair t-shirt collection. YA actually went to the Memorial Day Mini State Fair yesterday. Friends had gone the night before and said it was more robust than last year. But in looking over the website, it didn’t look that much more robust to me, so I passed. I don’t need any pretend state fairs… I can’t wait. (I already have tickets for this year – bought them in January.) YA has reported that the mini state fair was exactly that – mini.
And, of course, zories (flip flops). To get ready for spring and Summer of Love, I got my zori bin out and straightened it up and re-organized it by color. My current zori count is 45, although unbelievably enough I don’t have any red ones; the red ones bit the dust last summer. Guess I’ll have to make a trip to Old Navy soon!
In the Events division at my job, the process of getting a travel program going is divided into lots of pie pieces. We have the folks who source the hotels and write the programs, the folks who program the program websites, the folks who book the air, the folks who write and design the communications, the folks who manage the participants, the folks who go on site and run the program. Then there’s what I do; from the time a program sells until the participants arrive at their destination, I oversee all the other pieces of pie, getting all the details wrapped up tight so the program runs successfully.
Over the years I’ve been corralled a few times into doing work in other departments; I’ve been successful but I don’t like it much. A couple of months ago we got the opportunity to bid for a big piece of business with a client that I’ve worked with for 15 years – in fact I’ve done 46 trips for their various regions. As you can imagine, this opportunity has taken on a life of its own – specs from the client, questions back to them, a preliminary presentation made. The number of meetings has been alarming, especially since I really don’t have that much input. Others involved are excited to be doing the work, love the corporate lingo and are happy to be jumping through all the necessary hoops. I completely understand this work has to be done but it doesn’t ring my bell. So I smile, answer any questions asked of me and multi-task. It really makes me appreciate zoom meetings.
The notification that we made the initial cut and have a presentation date slated came down on Tuesday. We had a meeting on Wednesday – I knew this would be the meeting in which decisions were made about who would be part of the presentation. I’ve been dreading this prospect for weeks; while I certainly wouldn’t be tasked with heading up the presentation, I worried that with my overwhelming experience on the account, they would think I would be handy to have in the room. Not my cup of tea and the idea of flying to the east coast for two days for this presentation doesn’t excite me at all.
They didn’t ask me. I can’t tell anybody at work how relieved I am not to be part of the presentation team. But I can tell you all – I am very happy to stay home. I’m not even going to grouse about the fact that there are two “practice” meetings that I have been asked to attend, even though I’m not practicing. Phew!
What topic could you give a 30-minute presentation on without any preparation?
Last week I bought a fold up free-standing gate. The dog behaviorist has finally made me realize that I am not going to “fix” Guinevere so that she doesn’t wake up violently when the kitty jumps down from the windowsill in the middle of the night. That means I have to solve how to keep the kitty safe. It’s always a pretty short scenario; Nimue thumps down on the floor, Guinevere startles awake and lunges. Then Guinevere wakes up and it’s over.
We tried keeping Nimue in YA’s room but kitty does not like being imprisoned all night. After all she does her best hunting in the wee hours. Then we put Guinevere in YA’s room but then the dog whined all night and scratched at the door.
So now we have a pretty white, fairly heavy free-standing gate in my room that separates where the kitty jumps down from my bed, where the dog hangs out all night. It’s only been a few days so Nimue hasn’t quite figured it all out, but I expect in the next few days, she’ll have it worked out.
That’s not really what I’m here to talk about. What I’m here to talk about is that it’s been over a week since I ordered this thing and today I have seen at least SIX ads recommending various dog gates. Oh and an ad for a pet door. I’ve probably said this before, but if the computers are so smart and connected into my life to know I’m looking at dog gates, then why aren’t they smart enough to know I already bought the darn thing. Do they think I need lots and lots of dog gates? I hate to think what would happen if I returned it – what pop-up ads would I get then?
All things do eventually arrive. Even good weather.
The corn is all planted and we’re working on soybeans. Growing Degree Units for my area are at 317; about 90 above normal, which, I’m finding hard to believe as cool as it was this spring. But I read it on the internet so it must be true.
I’m still struggling with the pinched nerve and I’m lucky my brother has been coming out and helping do fieldwork the last few years. He and Kelly got to work last Saturday with me pointing and giving instructions and they took the loader off the tractor, hooked up the corn planter, got it all greased, filled it with seed and started planting corn. Several times it became clear to us how many things we just do, without thinking about them, and then have to explain to someone *how* to do it, is much more difficult. Communication people, Communication.
Kelly planted the first field of corn. Again, so many things to watch, that I do automatically, but trying to explain it all to her…well, one thing at a time. It wasn’t helpful that sometimes I change my mind in the middle of what’s happening. But she did it! I knew she could! She just hadn’t had too before. Eventually I discovered I was able to get into the tractor and I was able to do the planting. I have more corn this year than normal, partially because the co-op and I had a mix up of maps and they weren’t spreading the fertilizer where I expected them to spread it. A few phone calls and texting photos of maps back and forth solved the issue. I’m still not sure what happen but it’s OK and I’ll verify next year before we start.
Several very fortuitous things have come about this year. We bought a gator two years ago; one of those side by side utility vehicles. I’m able to get in that and drive it. I can park it at the back door, I can drive it through the fields, and into the shed. It’s been very valuable. And the decision last fall to have the co-op spread all the fertilizer, while at the time was more about precision application of nutrients, certainly became valuable this spring as I wasn’t trying to explain how to run the fertilizer wagon to Kelly. Not to mention having to refill the planter so often. With the co-op doing it, all the corn fields are fertilized at once and I just have someone add seed to the planter and I can go many more acres before needing a refill. Ah, those decisions we make without realizing their full implications.
The barn swallows returned the first week of May and a pair have built a nest on top of a wind chime outside our front door. This has been a regular occurrence the last few years. We’ve learned to put some cardboard down to collect all the droppings. And a Robin is building a nest on top of a gutter downspout where it angles under the eave, at the back door. I enjoy watching the swallows fly around me when out in the fields. I’ve been seeing pheasants near the CRP, (Conservation Reserve Program) fields. He doesn’t seem to be very afraid of me in the tractor. One day daughter took a walk and said she saw an owl. I thought that was kind of unusual and figured she meant a hawk. Two days later, Kelly and I were going to get the mail, and there was an owl! Daughter was right.
Planting corn was almost without issues. On the second to last field, the planter settled to the ground by itself once and I thought the hydraulic valve on the tractor must be leaking. (It’s hydraulic oil that holds it up). When I got to the last field, I realized there was an oil leak and that’s why the planter had lowered itself. Oh. Heck. I tried to finish planting but it soon became apparent I was losing too much oil. Making a run for home, I almost made it before running completely out of hydraulic oil. The next day we found the leak and my brother got it apart, I found a replacement, he reassembled, and we finished planting corn.
The chicks are growing up; they’re kind of at that awkward teenage phase.
I watched a pair of guineas the other day. I’m not sure if they were fighting or playing or mating.
One of the upshots of the “more flowers, less grass” way of life at our house is mulch. We like the look of mulch around all the flowers and now that the front yard and boulevard are essentially all flowers, that’s a lot of mulch.
“A lot of mulch” and “very small Honda Insight” aren’t usually phrases you see in a sentence together. That’s because you can only put 8 2-cubic foot bags of mulch IN a Honda Insight if you want to continue to see out the back window. (You could transport more if you used the backseat and not just the hatch but that lesson learned was ugly.) If you go through 25-28 bags of mulch in the spring, that means several trips to Menards. Yes, I’ve looked into having a boatload of mulch delivered, but one of the things I know about myself is how unhappy I will be with a mountain of mulch that might get rained on before I get to it, is taking up driveway space and is also making me feel guilty until it’s all gone. And the savings isn’t that great anyway.
Mulch trips are in the morning – it’s cooler, plenty of room in the parking lot, not too crowded in the store – so for four mornings in a row, there I am, with my mulch on a big cart. There is an older woman who works the first register shift every morning and she is NOT a happy person. Could be that she resents working so early. Maybe she resents still having to work at all at this stage of her life. Might even be that she’s just not a morning person.
I try not to take this personally, but I’m a chatter. Every morning I say “good morning”. Once I said “Eight of them (the bags), if I counted right”. Couple of times I’ve said “see you tomorrow”. Yesterday was “Thanks”. Nothing from this woman. Not even a smile, which I would have thought would be helpful in a customer service role.
The mulch trips are probably over for this spring but I have determined that if I need more, I will probably just leave this poor woman alone when I go through her lane. It won’t hurt me and maybe it will give her a little relief at 6:15 in the morning. Of course, it’s not as much fun.
Tell me about a time you’ve gotten GREAT customer service!
A diagnostics company in Kentucky ran up a $450,000 bill for an employee birthday party. It wasn’t over the top decorations or a gilded cake.
Several days before his birthday, the employee asked his manager to not throw a party for fears it would trigger his anxiety disorder; he doesn’t do well being the center of attention and worried about having a panic attack.
The glassbowl manager decided to throw a party anyway, planning the fete over lunch in the breakroom. The birthday boy fled the building and ate his lunch in the car. To add insult to injury, the next day the employee was scolded in a meeting and then fired.
The lawsuit filed against the company alleged that they did not accommodate his anxiety disorder and caused him to suffer loss of income, benefits as well as causing him emotional distress and mental anxiety. The jury on the case agreed and awarded him $450,000.
What kind of party would you throw for yourself with a $450K budget?
I was a rep for a stamping company for many years…. you know, one of the home party companies. Of course, for most of my tenure, I only did workshops in my home for my dedicated following. I wasn’t really into “growing my business”; I just wanted have fun with my stamping friends and get the company discount.
I have stamps and accessories from many companies but even though I’m not selling any longer, I still get excited when the annual catalog comes out. The first day to order is today. One of the things I’ve learned over the years is that the colors of ink/paper in the catalog aren’t always QUITE the same in person as they are in the book. You wouldn’t think I would be too fussy about my ink colors (especially if you could see how many I already have). But when you have a lot, you don’t want duplication. If I’m going to get another pink pad or green pad, it needs to be a different shade. When I saw new colors called Polished Pink and Parakeet Party, I visited my rep (I signed up with her the day I resigned as a sales person) to see those colors in person.
Parakeet Party is a light but vibrant green but it occurs to me that the average person wouldn’t figure that out immediately. And it made me think about some of the incredible names that stamp companies come up with for their colors. Here are just a few… can you figure out what color they are by the name:
Coastal Cabana
Cadette
Alchemy
Mermaid
Of course a lot of them are more obvious: Rich Razzleberry, Early Espresso, Bubblegum (just about ever company that does ink pads has one named this) and one of my favorites – Not Quite Navy. I’m thinking that when they have meetings to talk about ink names, there must be alcohol involved!
What’s your favorite Crayola box? 8-pack? 24-pack? 64? Living large with the Ultimate 152? What about neons? Or glitters? Or confettis?
As vegetarians, YA and I have a kitchen stocked a little differently than most of the folks we know and certainly differently than mainstream America. So I don’t get too worked up about food recalls because it never affects us. Until last month when a news story about Skippy Peanut Butter jumped out at me. The photo on all the articles I saw were of Skippy Reduced Fat and Skippy Super Chunk – Super Chunk is what YA and I have in our cupboard. We’ve tried lots of peanuts butters over the years, including the much-better-for-us co-op brands, but we always come back to Skippy. That said, I was a little panicked when I read about metal fragments and that 60,000 jars had been recalled and Minnesota was one of the states.
The only other time I’ve been involved in a recall was about 12 years ago when a part on my Saturn was found to be defective. That turned out to be quite an ordeal. I called, took the car in and AFTER they took out the defective part, they realized that the new part they had in stock wasn’t for a car as old as mine. Well, just put the old part back in until they can get a new part, right?. Nope – the old part is designed so that once it comes out, it doesn’t go back in. Then it turned out that since my car was older, they hadn’t actually started the production process for the needed part. I was in a loaner (a very nice loaner) for close to 12 weeks. But driving a loaner around didn’t trip any of my anxiety buttons like learning that my daughter and I might have ingested metal fragments along with our peanut butter.
Luckily I quickly discovered that the only Skippy products involved were the Reduced Fat versions and the creamy with plant protein added. YA and I can’t stand the reduced fat (why bother even eating peanut butter) and I’ve never even SEEN the plant protein version. (Isn’t a peanut a plant? Isn’t all peanut butter plant-based protein?)
So I wasn’t in a panic very long but it was enough to get my heart going a bit.
It’s been a crazy busy week. But at least we’ve gotten some much needed rain. Monday, I got an implement deliver that I had ordered in December. (My new rear blade for moving snow, grading the road, or moving dirt) Plus, it is tech week at the college so rehearsals every night and busy during the day dealing with things. I wore my tool belt at the college one day and that felt great! (With my shoulder, I have not needed it or 5 months, nor have I been able to manipulate my arm to get it buckled.) Mostly I feel like I am fighting with technology lately. Government websites, computer programs, helpful people that update things to make it “new and improved” and then it does not work like it used too. It is enough to make a person frustrated.
Wednesday, we picked up baby chicks at the post office. The first thing we do is get them a drink of water. (See photos below. They look red because we have a red heat lamp on them.)
and I picked up the first of my seed; got oats and corn seed. Did a few things at home, felt like a newbie, and made stupid mistakes. Moved the snowblower out of the shed: I tied up the power take off shaft first. But I tied it too high, and it was in the way, and I could not get the tractor hooked up to the blower. Out of the tractor and tied the shaft different. Back in the tractor and got the blower hooked up on the first try, moved it outside, parked it, got out of the tractor, did a couple other things, back in the tractor and drove away without unhooking the blower. Broke the string holding the PTO shaft. Got out, tied that back up again. String broke. (It is a heavy shaft and I had frayed the string when it broke the first time). Tied it up a fourth time. Back in the tractor, re-park the blower, and the wood blocks shifted and the blower tipped forward. Out of the tractor, reset the blocks, hook it up again, back in the tractor and get it to stay this time, out of the tractor to get it unhooked. Man, twenty minutes later on a 5-minute job…
I am adding a camera system to the tractor this spring. Built a bracket to hold the screen in the cab, and the two cameras are on magnets and will go back in the drill tanks, and now it is just cable management between cameras and monitor screen, plus power for the display and cell phone charger, and boy I’ll really be something. I hope it works. I told my mom that dad would think I was pretty lazy I couldn’t get off the tractor to see how much seed was left, but she didn’t think so; he would have thought it was kinda cool. Made me miss him a little bit.
Delivered more Straw, almost to the end of that. There was a dead animal in the yard one morning. Pretty sure it was a weasel, which, if it was, they are terrible to a flock of chickens so I’m sorry it’s dead but better it than my chickens. Another time I sure miss Steve so he could tell us about weasels. Duck numbers are holding steady. No losses this week.
I will be able to use the cameras on the baler, or anything that I cannot see from the cab.
Next week I should be able to get into the fields and get oats planted. I read that corn seed needs 48 hours of 50° soil temps to germinate. Plan accordingly.
Do you have a favorite string? I like twine. Plastic twine if it’s outside. Where would you put a camera?
Trail Baboon 