A friend and I were chatting this morning and she asked what the sex of my daughter's expected twins is. After telling her, she said, "you probably told me before but I forget. Anyway, doesn't matter. I get to enjoy the news all over again."
I have never thought about that aspect of this short term memory haywire thing that happens to me. It's so true. I get to relive a great deal of what I hear.
Sometimes this may not be so good; when a friend shares sad news, for instance, that I had forgotten about. But I do get an opportunity for a "do-over", hearing it the second time, to share some empathy with her and perhaps help her feel a little better.
But happy news heard a second time must be good for my soul. I can only imagine that it's good for the giant checklist of experiences in my mind. Feel good moment; check. Belly laugh with friend; check.
Here's to enjoying old news!
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Lessons Learned from Paddywax
The success of new items in the shop, including a new line of fragrance diffusers and candles, started me thinking about successes I've had and lessons I've learned. This 'Library' series is proving to be a hit with customers but I wouldn't be honest if I didn't admit to having brought in a few less than popular products at times.
Popular wisdom tells us that we learn a great deal from our mistakes. I do believe this and can readily tell you which mistakes I've made and what I've learned from them.
As time marches on with this business of mine, I am serving a greater number of people in a greater number of ways. After four years, I am certainly a bedding specialist, having encountered a surprising number of unique beds and customer choices.
I know I've made two mistakes in bedskirts - when we make assumptions, we're often wrong. Assumptions with these two customers proved that their box springs were not standard height and the skirts were short. I now ask everyone to confirm box spring height. Lesson learned.
The thing is; I am learning a great deal more from my successes.
I've sold a great many skirts that were exactly right; even different than a customer may have thought of. The comments these customers make when they return to the shop tell me much more about what goes right. These "successes" encourage me to make like suggestions to other customers, who report back that they are pleased, and so on.
Every bit of feedback a customer shares with me is a lesson. I've been remarkably blessed with the positive remarks I hear. Each one inspires me and teaches me I'm on the right path.
Lessons come in many ways. A new line of products which sits on the shelf instead of going home in customer bags is a lesson learned.
But a new line of products that flies out the door teaches me so much more. This lesson teaches me about quantities to buy; varieties to introduce; prices to set; display to complement; and customer service to explain.
The lesson of products unsold tells me I missed the mark with that item. End of lesson. The lesson of successful buying also tells me I'm on the right track with what I like for my customers; encouraging me to trust my instincts and keep going with new and bigger ideas, which brings additional sales. Which encourages me to trust my instincts and keep going ...
Each and every Paddywax product sold teaches me that my judgment is fine. Popular wisdom may be right about learning from our mistakes but I believe I am far more successful because of the positive reinforcement I've received than I would be focusing on the errors I've made.
Not all that different from training my puppy!
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
What I did on my Summer Vacation
I spent a spectacular week in St. John’s, Newfoundland, discovering the oldest history in Canada; visiting museums, archeological sites, going underground into an iron ore mine, exploring the incredible scenery and having wonderful laughs with family.
With a big grin still on my face, remembering our visit, I came into the shop the day after returning, opened my computer case and discovered my USB drive was gone.
For those unfamiliar with USB drives, these are tiny little sticks that fit into your computer and hold a great deal of information. Mine had been with me since before opening the shop. Every file I’ve created is on it. My entire accounting system is on it. My history and my dreams for the future are on it.
So, you may be able to relate when I say that my stomach went “galump”. I didn’t panic (I’m actually quite proud of how I reacted; very maturely, I thought). I immediately searched for St. John’s airport phone number and called their Security department. No USB drive had been found in the airport. Then I called the hotel we had stayed in. No USB drive had been found at the hotel. Then I e-mailed my sister; whose family immediately jumped up and searched their entire home. No USB drive was found there!
I wasn’t worried about the accounting program because I routinely backed it up on my laptop and the last backup was a mere two weeks before the trip. I was, though, concerned about when I had last backed up my other files and couldn’t wait until the end of the day to find out. I closed the shop for a few minutes and went home to get my backup discs. I opened my backup disc folder and discovered a backup two months earlier. Not great - but pretty good. So I lost a newsletter and some incidental files. At least I hadn’t begun the great American novel and lost all.
The “galump” began to “giddy up” again just a little.
I then opened my accounting program, directing it to the backup folder and … nothing! It didn’t recognize the file. Giddy Up changed to outright panic. I was facing re-entering every receipt, every transaction, everything for the entire year. After a few sleepless nights, I called someone who knew someone who 'takes care of computers'. Two hours after placing the call, I was back in business with my recent backup.
Now I can remember my summer vacation for the great experiences I had instead of the foolish mistake I made. I'm so glad.
With a big grin still on my face, remembering our visit, I came into the shop the day after returning, opened my computer case and discovered my USB drive was gone.
For those unfamiliar with USB drives, these are tiny little sticks that fit into your computer and hold a great deal of information. Mine had been with me since before opening the shop. Every file I’ve created is on it. My entire accounting system is on it. My history and my dreams for the future are on it.
So, you may be able to relate when I say that my stomach went “galump”. I didn’t panic (I’m actually quite proud of how I reacted; very maturely, I thought). I immediately searched for St. John’s airport phone number and called their Security department. No USB drive had been found in the airport. Then I called the hotel we had stayed in. No USB drive had been found at the hotel. Then I e-mailed my sister; whose family immediately jumped up and searched their entire home. No USB drive was found there!
I wasn’t worried about the accounting program because I routinely backed it up on my laptop and the last backup was a mere two weeks before the trip. I was, though, concerned about when I had last backed up my other files and couldn’t wait until the end of the day to find out. I closed the shop for a few minutes and went home to get my backup discs. I opened my backup disc folder and discovered a backup two months earlier. Not great - but pretty good. So I lost a newsletter and some incidental files. At least I hadn’t begun the great American novel and lost all.
The “galump” began to “giddy up” again just a little.
I then opened my accounting program, directing it to the backup folder and … nothing! It didn’t recognize the file. Giddy Up changed to outright panic. I was facing re-entering every receipt, every transaction, everything for the entire year. After a few sleepless nights, I called someone who knew someone who 'takes care of computers'. Two hours after placing the call, I was back in business with my recent backup.
Now I can remember my summer vacation for the great experiences I had instead of the foolish mistake I made. I'm so glad.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Memory is a Mysterious Thing
Some nights, as I put my head on my pillow, I feel that I've forgotten more in my day than remembered. With many demands on my time and mind, I seem unequal to the task of remembering everything and everyone.
I use the usual tools; notebooks and calendars primarily. But I know that, when my commitments become too many, a certain amount of information tends to go 'whoosh'; straight over my head instead of into my brain where it belongs.
As things come up that require my attention and I schedule them or do some preliminary action required, I check off the virtual to do list. Then I no longer think of the matter. Sales reps often show up in the shop with appointments I've made and then promptly forgotten about (because I've forgotten to look at my calendar that day).
I also seem to remember fewer of the small details people share with me. It's true, they usually return quickly once a discussion is continued but I often feel remiss in not being the one who brings up a previous point of importance to them.
Lately, I've begun to wish that my brain was more like a computer; able to store away and then pull up entire files of information at the push of a key. How convenient to be able to parcel out the minutes of our day, confident in the knowledge that what we need to remember will be there as and when we need it. No scrambling for the proper paperwork. No arriving after guests. No falling asleep with last minute thoughts of what didn't get done rambling about in our brains.
Of course I do realize that what has to get done always does. I have always believed that what doesn't get done was not as important or it would have had higher priority on the list and not been neglected. But I wonder - is the capacity of my mental 'list' shrinking over time?
Perhaps it's time that I develop some new and clearer habits for remembering than what has been working for me in the past. String on my finger is no longer doing the trick.
I use the usual tools; notebooks and calendars primarily. But I know that, when my commitments become too many, a certain amount of information tends to go 'whoosh'; straight over my head instead of into my brain where it belongs.
As things come up that require my attention and I schedule them or do some preliminary action required, I check off the virtual to do list. Then I no longer think of the matter. Sales reps often show up in the shop with appointments I've made and then promptly forgotten about (because I've forgotten to look at my calendar that day).
I also seem to remember fewer of the small details people share with me. It's true, they usually return quickly once a discussion is continued but I often feel remiss in not being the one who brings up a previous point of importance to them.
Lately, I've begun to wish that my brain was more like a computer; able to store away and then pull up entire files of information at the push of a key. How convenient to be able to parcel out the minutes of our day, confident in the knowledge that what we need to remember will be there as and when we need it. No scrambling for the proper paperwork. No arriving after guests. No falling asleep with last minute thoughts of what didn't get done rambling about in our brains.
Of course I do realize that what has to get done always does. I have always believed that what doesn't get done was not as important or it would have had higher priority on the list and not been neglected. But I wonder - is the capacity of my mental 'list' shrinking over time?
Perhaps it's time that I develop some new and clearer habits for remembering than what has been working for me in the past. String on my finger is no longer doing the trick.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Look me in the Eye
I can't help but think that we are doing our kids a disservice by outfitting them with cell phones; blackberries and the "i" of the week. I say this because I recognize the many ways other people touch my life once simple eye contact has been made.
Looking someone in the eyes with a greeting of "Good morning" has led to new friendships; new customers (in my case); interesting stories; and a feeling of rightness in my community. The many people I pass on my morning walk, for instance, help me to feel connected. Whether we share a quick greeting or take the time to stop and chat, these people add context to my life.
I was raised in a large city and knew by instinct that I shouldn't make eye contact in elevators or at bus stops. It took a few years into adulthood, and living in a few small towns, to change that practice and I've never looked back. The people I meet and have random chats with add so much to my life, whether I see them daily, or once and never again.
I remember one day in the spring passing a group of young people waiting for their school bus. They were 14-17 years old and stood individually around the corner, each with their eyes on their electronics. Their postures said volumes but their silence said much more. If our teenagers aren't even connecting casually with each other, what will they miss in life? They seem to find a one-liner text from a friend more compelling than a live body standing beside them.
When I pass a young person on the street, I now greet them. Some are comfortable responding in kind; others shrink into themselves. Perhaps they'll share stories about the crazy lady who speaks to them. Maybe they'll pass on the greeting to the next person they meet.
Looking someone in the eyes with a greeting of "Good morning" has led to new friendships; new customers (in my case); interesting stories; and a feeling of rightness in my community. The many people I pass on my morning walk, for instance, help me to feel connected. Whether we share a quick greeting or take the time to stop and chat, these people add context to my life.
I was raised in a large city and knew by instinct that I shouldn't make eye contact in elevators or at bus stops. It took a few years into adulthood, and living in a few small towns, to change that practice and I've never looked back. The people I meet and have random chats with add so much to my life, whether I see them daily, or once and never again.
I remember one day in the spring passing a group of young people waiting for their school bus. They were 14-17 years old and stood individually around the corner, each with their eyes on their electronics. Their postures said volumes but their silence said much more. If our teenagers aren't even connecting casually with each other, what will they miss in life? They seem to find a one-liner text from a friend more compelling than a live body standing beside them.
When I pass a young person on the street, I now greet them. Some are comfortable responding in kind; others shrink into themselves. Perhaps they'll share stories about the crazy lady who speaks to them. Maybe they'll pass on the greeting to the next person they meet.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Early Bird gets the Worm
Strange and interesting thing happened during my walk to the lake this morning.
We (those of us in Southern Ontario) are in the grip of an intense heat wave at the moment. We're into Day 3, I think, although the heat has made my mind lazy and it's a little foggy. Getting to and from the lake in this heat, even at 7:00 in the morning, is sketchy. But, once I'm there, I do enjoy the slightly cooler temps and the shade of the large trees. Standing at the lake each morning is 'my' time. It's the quiet, undisturbed part of my day when I can think of all I'm grateful for and seek direction for my day and my life.
This morning, as I looked out on the lake, I had a very clear vision for a new store; name; decor; product .... a complete vision; much like the one that came to me for The Linen Cupboard.
Now, in today's business atmosphere, beginning a new venture makes little sense. After all, even those that have been around for some time are having difficulty. Even so, throughout the walk back from the lake, my steps were lighter and my mind charging ahead with this idea. It's likely one of those dreams that don't make it to fruition, but I had fun with the thoughts.
It was during this walk back that the strange/interesting thing happened. I passed a beautiful, robust looking robin with a worm in it's mouth. Not unusual, I know, but don't forget we've had at least three days of parched lawns. This bird was no where near where a lawn may have had early morning sprinklers providing worms for the taking. I thought "way to go, you resourceful bird" and carried on my way. Interesting - but not strange. It was on the last leg of my walk that I thought "okay, that's strange." I passed another robin with a fat worm in it's mouth. Again, in a field, no where near sprinklers.
At this point, having the mind that I do, I began to wonder what the robins were telling me. Were they saying - take the chance; the reward will be there even though the atmosphere may seem unwelcome at the moment? Wouldn't life be easier if I could just tap into that insight that creatures seem to have?
The problem is there are no easy answers when we're looking at major decisions. All we can do is weigh the facts as we know them and make a, hopefully, educated choice. I'm reminded of the ethics course I took in university and how decision-making is often a right vs right option. By doing one right thing, I may be leaving other rights things undone.
This new store will likely never come to be but I thank the robins for generating some great reflections - helping me to see that we shouldn't always act based on the known wisdom of the day. After all, it's the risk takers who get the worm.
We (those of us in Southern Ontario) are in the grip of an intense heat wave at the moment. We're into Day 3, I think, although the heat has made my mind lazy and it's a little foggy. Getting to and from the lake in this heat, even at 7:00 in the morning, is sketchy. But, once I'm there, I do enjoy the slightly cooler temps and the shade of the large trees. Standing at the lake each morning is 'my' time. It's the quiet, undisturbed part of my day when I can think of all I'm grateful for and seek direction for my day and my life.
This morning, as I looked out on the lake, I had a very clear vision for a new store; name; decor; product .... a complete vision; much like the one that came to me for The Linen Cupboard.
Now, in today's business atmosphere, beginning a new venture makes little sense. After all, even those that have been around for some time are having difficulty. Even so, throughout the walk back from the lake, my steps were lighter and my mind charging ahead with this idea. It's likely one of those dreams that don't make it to fruition, but I had fun with the thoughts.
It was during this walk back that the strange/interesting thing happened. I passed a beautiful, robust looking robin with a worm in it's mouth. Not unusual, I know, but don't forget we've had at least three days of parched lawns. This bird was no where near where a lawn may have had early morning sprinklers providing worms for the taking. I thought "way to go, you resourceful bird" and carried on my way. Interesting - but not strange. It was on the last leg of my walk that I thought "okay, that's strange." I passed another robin with a fat worm in it's mouth. Again, in a field, no where near sprinklers.
At this point, having the mind that I do, I began to wonder what the robins were telling me. Were they saying - take the chance; the reward will be there even though the atmosphere may seem unwelcome at the moment? Wouldn't life be easier if I could just tap into that insight that creatures seem to have?
The problem is there are no easy answers when we're looking at major decisions. All we can do is weigh the facts as we know them and make a, hopefully, educated choice. I'm reminded of the ethics course I took in university and how decision-making is often a right vs right option. By doing one right thing, I may be leaving other rights things undone.
This new store will likely never come to be but I thank the robins for generating some great reflections - helping me to see that we shouldn't always act based on the known wisdom of the day. After all, it's the risk takers who get the worm.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
It's a Dog's Life
Molly, our Airedale puppy, is the newest addition to the shop. She's a delightful pet; alternating between puppy rambunctiousness and frequent collapses on the floor for naps. Makes me wish I could just flop when I get pooped.
I knew Molly was a hit with customers but today confirmed it. A woman came into the shop for the sole purpose of seeing Molly. She had seen me sitting on the steps with her one day as she drove by and came back when she had time to see her.
Of course, she's a puppy, and every day is not perfect. Molly's fussy time is in the afternoon, round about the time that the shop is beginning to get busy. One day, as four women were coming in, I quickly put Molly into her crate to stay out of the way. I was glad I did since the women all seemed to need my attention very quickly.
Now, the shop generally has a soothing effect on women. The scents; colours; decor and quiet classical music create an atmosphere that women seek out. Picture the scene on this day; four women looking at different things in different areas of the shop; each with questions.
Challenging on its own but made even more so with the sound of Molly's short, sharp barks filling the air. As I tried to help each of the women, another woman entered and then another. Molly was making the most of the caffuffle, innately recognizing she had a role to play.
Soon the shop had more of a feeling of chaos than peace. At that moment, my parents arrived. They have begun to visit most afternoons to take Molly for a much needed walk through the park. I grabbed the leash without a word; handed it to my mother and thankfully watched them leave the shop.
Luckily, Molly and I haven't had another day like that one since but I now have my parent's number on speed dial just in case. Of course, as I write this, Molly has collapsed on the floor. They're beautiful when they're sleeping, aren't they?
I knew Molly was a hit with customers but today confirmed it. A woman came into the shop for the sole purpose of seeing Molly. She had seen me sitting on the steps with her one day as she drove by and came back when she had time to see her.
Of course, she's a puppy, and every day is not perfect. Molly's fussy time is in the afternoon, round about the time that the shop is beginning to get busy. One day, as four women were coming in, I quickly put Molly into her crate to stay out of the way. I was glad I did since the women all seemed to need my attention very quickly.
Now, the shop generally has a soothing effect on women. The scents; colours; decor and quiet classical music create an atmosphere that women seek out. Picture the scene on this day; four women looking at different things in different areas of the shop; each with questions.
Challenging on its own but made even more so with the sound of Molly's short, sharp barks filling the air. As I tried to help each of the women, another woman entered and then another. Molly was making the most of the caffuffle, innately recognizing she had a role to play.
Soon the shop had more of a feeling of chaos than peace. At that moment, my parents arrived. They have begun to visit most afternoons to take Molly for a much needed walk through the park. I grabbed the leash without a word; handed it to my mother and thankfully watched them leave the shop.
Luckily, Molly and I haven't had another day like that one since but I now have my parent's number on speed dial just in case. Of course, as I write this, Molly has collapsed on the floor. They're beautiful when they're sleeping, aren't they?
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