Windy’s Blog

When I left the hotel in Weedsport, I felt fairly refreshed. (sounds like a lyric to a Country song). I’d had a good night’s sleep on sheets that were pink (odd for a hotel, don’t you think?). I’d gassed up the car, had my morning cup of hotel coffee-maker coffee with the yucky non-dairy creamer in it, and I was ready to go.

It was a cold morning, but it turned into a beautifully sunny day. I took my time and enjoyed the views of the Fall foliage just beginning to make its debut on the trees of the Adirondack mountains. I stopped to visit with my sister in Pittsfield for a while before arriving at my final destination of this journey: Adams, MA

It felt good to be here. I know that there will be much work to do. And there was already much work to be done for my move in here. But with my niece, sister-in-law and other family members, we were able to clear out the bedroom, re-arrange furniture and get my belongings in the room. The unpacking and settling in will take more time, but I’m not stressed about that.

On the first morning here I awoke to the smell of freshly percolated coffee and Nonna had toasted a few slices of Italian bread. She told me to put the Ricotta cheese on top of it, and I enjoyed the breakfast with her. This morning it was my turn to start the coffee, and I even lit the fire in the wood stove for Nonna to “take the chill out of the air.” It was 50 degrees outside, not really chilly in my opinion, but Nonna likes the warmth.

Today we’ll pick some of the basil that Nonna grew and she’ll make more pesto (my niece Angela made about three quarts the other evening).

Nonna told me that she will fill ice trays with the pesto, and freeze them. After they are frozen, she’ll take out the “ice cubes” of pesto and place them in a zip lock baggie and keep them frozen. Then, when she needs to make only a few portions of the pesto with pasta, she’ll thaw and use one cube at a time. I thought that was a good idea to pass on to you. It’s a way to preserve and use the basil that grew all summer!

So now I’m going to get ready to help Nonna with some things around the house, then the plans for the restaurant will begin. It will be a challenging and exciting adventure and I’m looking forward to it!

Last evening I attended a meeting sponsored by a local group called TUG (Tri-City Unemployment Group). I had read about the group on a blog from an employment agency recruiter, Elyse  here near Geneva, IL.

TUG was formed in 2001 by “several concerned community leaders of several St. Charles [Illinois] churches as an ecumenical and grass-roots effort to help address the needs of St. Charles and tri-city residents who were unemployed or underemployed.”

“The Mission of the Tri-City Unemployment Group is to provide career management services, job-seeking skills, education and training in an environment that encourages and facilitates networking, mutual support, and maintaining a positive attitude, with the ultimate goal of meaningful employment.”

“Tug provides its services free thanks to the dedicated support of its many volunteers and generous donations from the community, business and individuals.”

You can find much more information about this group and its efforts to help the un-employed on their website: www.tricityug.org.

I’ll admit that I was a little skeptical about attending the event, because I had the pre-conceived notion that it would be a room of about 30 attendees, all of whom were stuck up and competitive and not willing to share any information at all, only receive it.

How wrong I was!

I arrived and was greeted warmly by a gentleman who directed me to the right area of the building, where I registered and put on the name tag. I then walked into a room of about sixty other people and took a seat at one of the tables.

The guest speaker for the evening was Mr. Jim Kacena, a Career Management Consultant. Mr. Kacena spoke for almost an hour and a half about The Art of Interviewing. I was pretty confident that I knew all there was to know about the interview process, especially since I’d been both the interviewer (in my HR and Manager positions) and the interviewee in my current un-employed state.

Again, I was proven wrong. Mr. Kacena’s perspective on interviews centered on keeping control of the entire process from beginning to end. It was a mixture of “old school” and “mainstream” for me. He touched on certain topics that I’d forgotten about in my desperation to find a great job. Things like remaining a professional even when we feel like we are totally not one.

Sometimes durng the job search process you can get so discouraged that you become desperate to please any employer, even if you don’t want that job. Mr. Kacena helped remind everyone to remain a professional and not let that inner wimp surface.

After the speech there was an hour of networking. I’d never attended a networking event before, so I had no clue what to expect. The TUG volunteers had a table set up for “newbies” like me, and I took a seat. It was another good experience.

The discussion at the table was lead by Mr. Jerry Gendron. He talked about the networking process at TUG and how the most important thing to remember was that we were all there to help each other. It was more than just a time to get a list of contacts for job prospects. This was a group who wanted to foster an environment of encouragement and resources to its members. I was very impressed.

I am going to add a new section to this blog site and hope to list resources for those who are seeking work. In the meantime, check your search engines for local networking groups in your area. You never know who you will meet. Even if you don’t get any contact names for jobs, you might be able to help someone else!

In honor of Father’s Day, I’m re-posting a blog entry from last year. I’m remembering my Dad today with love.

I received an e-mail entitled “Three Things” and the first picture and set of “three things” had my mind going to back to my youth, and thinking of my Dad. Here is the pic:

And the first Three Things in life that, once gone, never come back:

1) time 

2) words 

3) opportunity

The picture is like a snapshot of a memory.  Look closely. See the girl fishing with the man? Well, that could have been me and my Dad circa 1970.

I spent hours fishing with my Dad. In the beginning, we’d go searching for Night Crawlers. Those are the big, ugly, slimy worms that later would be used to bait the fish. I hated that part. I revolted against picking up those huge worms and plunking them in the bucket. But after a rain storm, you could find those big suckers hanging out on our driveway. Dad would say “It’s a good time to get the Night Crawlers” and I’d shriek silently to myself, “Oh no!”

He’d grab a big flashlight and the bait bucket, and we’d go out in the dark to the driveway and the front yard of our house. Dad would shine the light saying “there they are!” and I would cringe. While Dad filled the bucket with worms, I tentatively picked up one or two. You see, I never told Dad that I hated those worms, but I’m sure he must have guessed. I wanted to please him, and if you wanted to be a good fisherman (fisherwoman?) you had to get the best bait. So I’d pretend that I did my part, and Dad would let me get away with it.

Once daylight came, and we had a bucketful of worms, we’d go fishing. Sometimes we’d walk along the brook that traveled by the house, and sometimes we’d go to the lake a few miles away. The time would come when we’d have to put those worms on the hook, and I would cringe again. I’d pretend that I couldn’t do it right, so Dad would eventually hook the worms for me.

Then the best part came. We’d cast the lines from our poles, and wait. We fished for brook or lake trout back then. And as we waited for an unsuspecting trout to nibble on the worm, I’d take in the sights and sounds of life in the fresh water. If I listen with my mind I can still hear the pleasant gurgle of the running stream, like a slow melodic tune that never ends. The water would weave its way over the rocks, hitting tree stumps or dams built by beavers, and travel on. Sometimes the air and water hitting the rocks caused bubbles to form, and Dad would tell me to put my line right there, because under those bubbles the fish were “hiding.”

And I guess they were also “hiding” from my fishing line. I don’t recall ever catching one fish from those areas! In fact, I really didn’t catch many fish at all! But it was the experience of being with Dad, standing next to him and casting out the lines together. That’s what I treasured most about fishing.

Then one day, Dad came home from work with the secret of all fishing secrets! Mario, a guy who worked with my Dad, said that the best bait for fish was corn niblets. And Mario was the authority. Dad listened to every word that man stated, and followed his advice for years. People in my family will remember the name, I’m sure. If Mario said it, we were doing it. Funny thing is, I never did meet Mario. I wonder today if he ever existed at all, or if Dad just made him up to get his own way with things!

In any event, we switched our bait from Night Crawlers to corn niblets, and I was happy. I could deal with putting corn on the fishing hook, and Dad no longer had to help me!

Did the corn work? Well, not really. But I wasn’t about to say anything about it! After all, who was I to challenge Mario’s advice?

But alas, as time went on and I grew up, those days of fishing with Dad became less and less, until they were no more. Yet still today I carry the valuable lessons I learned from Dad while standing next to him on the side of the brook. I learned that patience is needed in life, and that sometimes we wait and wait and never get a fish. But that’s okay, because it’s not always about the “getting”, but about continuing to pursue the goal no matter what, that counts.

I learned that just as the stream continues to move, despite hitting rocks and trees and dams, so life continues to move whether we want it to or not. Time can’t be held back or stopped, and so we also must carry on despite the obstacles we face in our lives.

I learned that standing next to my Dad, who was so tall and big in comparison to me, was a treasure. Because years later, when he became frail and not so big due to cancer, I could still remember how it felt to look up to him.

And I learned that just as the fresh water from the brook moves on, so do opportunities. The chances that we have today to spend time with those we love, may never come again. Dad passed away nearly six years ago, and I would give anything to be able to stand next to him and cast out a line just one more time. I’d even put a Night Crawler on the hook myself, if I had the chance, just to please him. But those opportunities will never come again for me.

So today I’ll be thinking of those Three Things mentioned in the e-mail (time, words, opportunities) and wondering how I can make the most of all three in my life. And surely I’ll be thinking of Dad, who understood that philosophy long before e-mail was invented.

But most of all, I’ll be thanking God for a Dad who took the time to lead his daughter around the brooks and streams and to teach her some of the greatest lessons of life while waiting for a fish to bite.

And, yes, I’ll even be thanking God for Mario, and of course, for corn niblets!