It’s still too hot to wear it.
This has not kept me from beginning another scarf. This one is Henry, a manly herringbone pattern which I am knitting in Telemark, as you can see below. Henry is knitted from edge to edge horizontally, rather than in the usual vertical manner, so it will not be possible to admire it until it’s almost finished.
This is a Christmas present. It is now time to work an hour a day on Christmas presents, and I received my Christmas present knitting yarn (also visible below), so I am on it.
This is for #1 son, who is down this weekend visiting #2 son at college. #2 son likes having his big brother come visit, not only because of course he likes his brother, but also because #1 son is the epitome of coolness, so #2 son benefits from this coolness by association.
#1 son took my car on this jaunt, so I don’t have to do any errands today. I plan to take a walk, clean house, read, knit, and sew. I don’t plan to work.
This week we had an unusual number of problems. Not big problems, just little things. The flags were in the wrong order on the email template, the client wasn’t accessible, the leads didn’t get put into the CRM, the social media guy posted a link to the one page the client doesn’t want us to link to. Stuff like that.
#1 daughter and I have a business meeting over lunch every Friday. This started when she came back up here and stayed with us while finding an apartment. We both work from home and we work together, so — since we were in the same place all the time– whenever an issue arose, we’d naturally start discussing it. Often the discussion of whether a web lead was real or not would extend itself into one of those “Whither?” conversations, and it was hard to get work done.
I know that this is the norm in offices. That’s one of the main reasons that working from home can be so much more productive than working in an office.
In any case, we came up with The Friday Box as a solution for this problem. When a major issue arose, we’d write it down and put it in The Friday Box instead of taking the time to discuss it when it came up.
On Friday, we go to a restaurant and hash the big things out. When the meeting is over, it’s over till next Friday. This works very well. Right now, we’re working through the E-myth worksheets, along with the occasional Friday Box issue.
So yesterday we were having our usual meeting, and a few tables over a rep from the phone book company was making a sales pitch. We have some compassion for the phone book company. They’ve gone from making a product that was important in people’s lives to making products that no one wants even when they’re free. Instead of getting sensible and changing their products, they just get all intense about selling it.
I’ve listened to their sales pitch.
“I don’t think people use your directory to find my services,” I object.
“There are 70 searches for your product each week!” they crow.
“I get way more visits than that at my website,” I answer.
They brush this off.
“Hey,” I say, “I’m looking at my product in your directory, and I don’t show up at all, even though I’m on the first page of Google’s results.”
They explain that this is because I’m not paying them.They explain their byzantine click-based deal.
“You’re kidding!” I say in genuine surprise. “I always list clients with you because, well, you’re the phone book. But you’re telling me that there’s no point to doing so unless they’re willing to pay? That’s good to know.”
This wasn’t the intended takeaway. We agreed to disagree and parted on good terms.
That wasn’t happening at the restaurant where we were having our Friday meeting.
The owner was actually getting angry. I’m not a salesperson, but I bet that this is not what you’re after in a sales call.
In between eavesdropping, we were discussing new paths to lead generation. We don’t want our salesperson to get bored, so we want to increase the number of leads we get for her.
At one point in the discussion, #1 daughter said, “There’s something I have to say.”
Clearly, it was something in her Friday Box.
“You have to quit telling people that I take good pictures.” She continued on, explaining how and why I should quit this.
I was going to say, “Then why the heck have we spent all that money on cameras?” but thought better of it.
“I think you take good pictures,” I said instead.
“You think everyone is awesome at everything!” she objected.
I don’t think that’s true. I think I’m pretty critical. I mean, I spend a lot of time grading papers, seeking out good designers and writers to hire, sorting through photos for the best shot for a blog post (not at this blog, obviously), critiquing web sites. I’m not a cheerleader.
True, I think my staff are all fantastic. That’s why I hired them. But they’re on the staff because they’re fantastic. I passed up lots of people before choosing them. It’s not that I think everyone is awesome.
I do think my kids are awesome. This is adaptive. If we didn’t think pretty highly of our offspring, we’d never take care of them for the long, long time that human young require nurturing.
Wouldn’t you prefer that your boss and your parents think you’re great? Otherwise, you could end up like the unfortunate people working at the phone book company, knowing in their hearts that they are a waste of rations, trying constantly to make people believe that their anachronistic products and services are still worthwhile. That would be sad.