Management 101

In November, I got to thinking about the end of the calendar year and how hard my own work team has been pulling to keep our program going, supporting end users, and picking up the slack when others have left the group.

They are a resilient little team (I mean little in numbers) and I’m proud of them.

I asked the Boss of my Boss if we had some sort of recognition program. He said, “oh yes, we do spot bonuses. Talk to so-in-so and they can provide you with some gift cards to hand your employees.”

I was pretty stoked. I figured these gift cards might be $100. Or maybe, you know, $50. Not much, but enough to make a difference.

So I contacted so-in-so and wrote up my justification and was handed some gift cards.

They are $25 each.

Ugh.

Ok, I know $25 is still better than a kick in the shins, but I worried that handing out $25 would be less of a thank you and more of a “why bother”? Given how hard this crew has been working and the success they saw last year, would a $25 gift card be an insult?

Unfortunately for me, it turned out to be all I could do for my employees under “official” program at of my very cheap frugal cost-conscious company.

This week, with everyone back in the office after the holiday break, I decided to hand out the gift cards along with a hearty thank you.

I went to each person on my team and I talked to them about how hard they worked and said “I’d like to give you this. I’m sorry it’s not very much, but it’s the best I can do under the official auspices.”

Every member of my team was incredibly grateful and dare I say excited to get an “official” bit of recognition for a job well done.

As one woman leapt from her chair to hug me and thank me over and over, I was stunned.

How could she be so thrilled over a puny $25 gift card?

I puzzled over it and thought about it and pondered.

Today, on my afternoon walk around the lake, I figured it out.

These wonderful, hardworking, amazing people are simply happy to be recognized.

This is the power of saying (and meaning) the words Thank You.

I knew this mattered, I really did. I try very hard as a manager to remember to say thank you and mean it. But even I forget.

My very humble team gave me a good lesson. They took me back to Management 101, and for that I’m filled with gratitude.

(Should I remind my own manager that I also tend to work harder with a few “thank yous” along the way?)







Image via Abstruse Goose.



My drug of choice

So pretty. So solid. So….dreamy.





The elegance of the sucrose molecule.

Mmmm sweet Mother Sugar.

Here in the holiday season, her deliciousness is impacting my life in glorious ways.

Cookies, cakes, fudge, peppermint bark, egg nog, See’s candy, candy canes. All of it. WANT!

The trouble with my little predilection for sugar, however, is the more I eat it, the more I want it.

And then I become something much like a frenzying wildebeest.

So not cute.

I foresee a painful but necessary detox in the month of January.

But for now? Oooohm nom nom nom nom nom!!
.
.
.

And I’ll pretend I didn’t read this article.


This little foray into my favorite addiction is brought you by Theme Thursday and this week’s theme: Sweet

Article link from a December 8th post by NewMexiKen

Image from Wikipedia and used under the terms of a Creative Commons license.


New For the Holidays

New! Safety wrapped! Convenient! Eliminates breakage when shipping your Christmas Kitteh!

Packaged rawr!






Photo Copyright 2011, Karen Fayeth and taken with my iPhone 4s and using the Camera+ app. Subject to the Creative Commons license in the far right column of this page.


The First Time – NFL Edition

Sunday rolled around and The Good Man and I had something special on the agenda. We had a date with Candlestick Park and a dance with the San Francisco 49ers football team.

The Good Man had attended professional football games in the past, but I never had. I’ve spent much time inside Candlestick, but it was back in the late 90’s, watching my beloved San Francisco Giants get brutalized. The Giants moved to their new yard in 2000 and I hadn’t been to Candlestick since.

I wondered how the ‘Stick had held up over the past eleven years. The answer? About how you’d expect.



Photo by Karen Fayeth, Copyright 2011


Once upon a time I was a huge 49ers fan (going back to living in New Mexico where they were my team of choice). But over the past decade they kept stomping on my heart over and over, so I had to break up with them.

But this year…with their shiny 8-1 record…I might have been woo’d back to their side.

I think I’ve finally worked out my issues with this guy (that’s the long suffering quarterback, first round draft pick, Alex Smith).



Photo by Karen Fayeth, Copyright 2011


I gave up on him when I kept shouting at my television “THROW THE DAMN BALL ALREADY!!!” and he wouldn’t throw the ball. And then he’d get clobbered.

On Sunday, he threw the ball. Oh he threw it, indeed. And he ran it, and he handed it off and did everything a calm, cool quarterback should do.



Photo by Karen Fayeth, Copyright 2011


Oh, hello Kendall Hunter. Welcome to the end zone.



Photo by Karen Fayeth, Copyright 2011


This morning, the local sports radio show keeps talking about the amazing atmosphere at the ‘Stick on Sunday.

It was crazy.

Isn’t it always like that?



Photo by Karen Fayeth, Copyright 2011


For the non-baseball fans, I hear a lot of talk about how baseball is so slow, there’s waiting around, blah blah blah.

You know what? There is a lot of waiting around in football too.



Photo by Karen Fayeth, Copyright 2011


But there is an awful lot more blood in football. Yikes.



Photo by Karen Fayeth, Copyright 2011

I guess that tends to happen when your whole intent, play by play, is smashing into very large people. Our seats were great and I sure did see a lot of men crash into other men. Sometimes I had to close one eye and look away. That’s usually when the guys around me would shout “yeeeah!”

Boys. Hmph.



Photo by Karen Fayeth, Copyright 2011


Football is a crazy sport. A crazy, fun, outrageous, holy cow YEAH baby kind of sport.

In short…I loved it. Seeing it live was really something spectacular.



All photos by Karen Fayeth and subject to the Creative Commons license found in the far right column of this page.



A Face From The Past

While visiting L.A. this weekend, we had a chance to pile into a convertible and take a drive up and over the hill to Burbank.

It was there I ran into a childhood friend.

A face I can never forget.





Last time I saw this creepy somnabitch he was in Albuquerque, standing on the corner of San Mateo and Montgomery, right across the street from Del Norte High School.

He showed up once or twice in the high school parking lot, too. Looking an awful lot like this:





In fact, over the years he hasn’t changed a bit.

Ok, sure, that hairdo is wildly outdated. Those shifty eyes make me nervous. And those plaid pants! Ugh!

But he still cooks up a real fine breakfast.







Photos from the Burbank Bob’s Big Boy, originally opened in 1949. All photos by Karen Fayeth and subject to the Creative Commons license displayed on the right column of this page.