Life in the Garden

Matters of Life and Death

Confessions

Garden Tour

For me, a good indicator of caffeine overload is when I spring out of my chair for no apparent reason. That’s when I usually call a meeting with the advisory team and take a stroll.

This past week has been so golden that it’s hard to stay in the house and I had the good fortune of touring one of my neighbor’s rose gardens. She planted these beauties 56 years ago. She thinks they look terrible, she doesn’t have the energy these days to care for them. Although, I’ve admired her work from afar, I’d never seen them up close. To my untrained eye, they were gorgeous.

She was also kind enough to give me cuttings of this unknown flower that an elderly friend had given her years ago. I can’t wait to sprinkle the seeds next spring.

Added bonus, she revealed the secret to fighting the powdery mildew that is so prevalent in the hood. Even more remarkable about this lady and master gardener? She’s blind.

So I’m walking along, passed under the big green tree and literally got misted. The thing sprayed me right in the face! Why you cryin’? Notice that the sidewalk is dry except for directly under the tree.

I plucked a leaf to see if it was sticky or wet, actually felt a little oily. Can I get a tree id over here please?

Meet My Lovers:

Dragon, the Chihuahua. Adorable.

And darling Hoover across the street, who’s new and has separation anxiety. Every time his owners leave he starts the barking. I may work him into the advisory team meetings to divert his attention.

A little further down the road, there was this loud and proud display:

Work it!

And speaking of working it, when I arrived back to the World Headquarters, this effer was hunting out of the birdbath.

Looking down, at first I thought this metal piece was off of the lawn mower, and then I realized it’s some sort of crow bar. I promptly went and checked all my doors and windows…….

Paranoid much?

Don’t Make Me Do This

Last week I had a client who had been corresponding with me using two different email addresses. When client requested an invoice to be emailed, I had to ask, “Should I use the xxx@ address or donkeydik@xxxx?”

No Lie.

Women in Funeral Service, Cheryl Thompson-Morrow

cheryl thompson-morrow

Today’s Female Funeral Professional (known from here on out as FFP, you try saying that three times real fast!) spotlight is on Cheryl Thompson-Morrow with Thompson Funeral Home. Thompson Funeral Home is one of five other funeral homes in a two mile area in Boardman, OH., close to Youngstown.

Cheryl’s grandfather Clifford L. Thompson, started the firm in 1932. Cheryl hadn’t really considered entering the family business and her father, Clifford L. Thompson, Jr., who worked at the funeral home didn’t exactly encourage it. Why? Because it was a man’s world. But as Cliff Jr.’s health began to deteriorate, and when it became clear that his son would choose a different career path, Cheryl’s dad did notice that more women were entering the field of funeral service and maybe Cheryl, who was taking classes in the medical field, might be his future.

He told her that if she planned to go to mortuary school, she’d better get on it. This was the 80’s and Cheryl was trying to figure out what she was going to do with her life. She was working as a medical assistant and funeral service seemed like a good fit with her background, so she went to mortuary school, not realizing that within a few short years, she’d be running the business. In 1989, Cheryl graduated from the Pittsburgh Institute of Mortuary Science, and did her internship with her dad, a “difficult transition”, for the young girl and her father who was handing over a Life’s Work to his…daughter.

“That was tough”, she said. “He continued to work at the funeral home, even in declining health, he was there everyday.”

And then, one day, he said the magic words, “Whatever you think, Cheryl.” The turning point. He died shortly after at age 60 in 1997.

Next: Part Two with Cheryl Thompson-Morrow.

Confessions of a Small Business Owner Pt. 4

redbud

The red buds are peaking this week, and it smells sooo good outdoors. The Urn Garden is downwind of two monster lilac bushes that are so fragrant.

lilac

And that my friends is the problem. Or is it? There’s no separation between work and home. It’s getting better, but when you cross the threshold at my place, you immediately enter our World Headquarters. My messy desk and file cabinet, work and living space all rolled into one, it’s the first site you see when you hit the door. It’s aesthetics really, and can easily be solved. Lots of people would ignore the clutter and crossover just for the opportunity to work from home, but there has to be a more attractive and productive answer, to partition it off somehow, I feel inspiration coming.

Listen to Your Gut: Spoke with a colleague today who worked for a funeral supply company and had taken on a line of the Chinese caskets. She really wanted me to take on a territory and help move the product, she’s good at what she does, works hard, and it could be a “great opportunity”. A nice addition to my business. When someone says “Great Opportunity” my radar goes off. Call me lazy, but I didn’t want to travel, and I’ve got my own challenges with distribution without adding the bulk of crated caskets to the mix. Not to mention the YEARS it would take to establish relationships with the funeral homes that were locked up in long-term dealings with their suppliers. If ever there was a breakthrough….I just couldn’t see it.

Today she informed me that after a year or two of that back breaking business, she’s moved on to what she’s really good at. Selling pre-need.

Another Revelation: Since I left my old job four years ago, the position has turned over three times! Makes you think…was I nuts to stay there eleven years? Nah.

Garden Update

Thanksgiving postcard

The Garden is Tidy: Can I tell you how powerful I felt running the leaf blower this weekend? Two hours, no wind. (it’s been blustery here) A little out of control at times. Mr. Greenjeans came in behind me and mulched and removed every stray leaf from the yard and pronounced his hatred of trees. I think his tractor is sexy.

In an effort to restore our mental health this holiday season, we’ve resumed yoga practice. Friday’s session was so good, evidently the lady who belched, farted and snored the entire hour needed it too. During the resting phase, the teacher read a haiku that touched me.

Patience
to wait with
certainty the
art of allowing
life to carry you.

As I was packing up, I mentioned to the teacher how perfect the poem was for today. She agreed and several years ago had the Japanese symbols for this message tattooed on her back to carry with her forever.

Today’s Tip: Admit that it’s hard. Try Again.