The Farmette Report

The hand-off

Without much warning, the CEO of the health center where I work had to change her plans and I and another executive ended up attending a policy and issues conference in Washington, DC, in her place. Which meant that I spent a good amount of Sunday afternoon and evening learning how to speak with our congressional representatives about funding reauthorizations and appropriations and other policy issues involving community health centers. Learning advocacy was fun. Really.

The downside (other than the obvious one of being away from husband and donkeys) was that I did not pack a laptop. Oh, sure, the conference organizers had set up Internet stations for the attendees to use during breaks - complete with long lines of people and screens that were situated so as to offer absolutely no privacy to the user. Ick. That wasn't how I wanted to use the limited amount of time available between workshops.  Therefore, I did not have Internet access for almost three days.

That worked out just fine for me. What I wanted to do at the end of that first day was to decompress with a low-tech pursuit and temporarily get the bureaucratic acronyms out of my head. Sunday evening was my chance to kick back in a comfy armchair in my hotel room, light a scented candle, listen to Glenn Gould on my iPod, drink a cup of tea and knit. Perfect!

The next day brought more workshops and little time for anything else. Keith and I had planned to have dinner together, and he almost got wet feet at the last minute because he had been running errands with his pickup truck and felt a little self-conscious about pulling up to the Washington Hilton in a vehicle we affectionately refer to as Ol' Paint. Heck, I rationalized to Keith, most community health centers are in rural areas, so a pickup will be like old home to most of the attendees and will give the rest of the folks at the Hilton something to talk about.

That settled that. We enjoyed a casual supper while chatting about the places in DC that we used to frequent when we began dating each other nearly twenty years ago. Twenty years! It doesn't feel nearly that long.

Because I would be visiting the offices of a congressional representative and two senators the next day, we agreed to make an early night of it. He had a loaded-down truck and some animals at home waiting for their supper, so there was, sadly, not much question of sharing the hospitality of my $300 a night hotel room with him. Instead, we had our dinner date, and then he drove me back to "my" place where he kissed me good night.

"Oh!" he said, as I started to open the truck door. He grinned as he reached into his jacket pocket, adding, "I didn't forget." Then he pressed a new ball of white merino wool into my hand.

It was for the project I had brought with me to work on in spare moments; I had finished up the first small ball of wool before supper. I started the new ball that night and brought the project with me to Capital Hill the next day. Now I'll be able to tell my sister-in-law that part of her baby blanket was knit in the halls of the Hart senate office building.

The turkeys at work

I was going through some photos I took within the last few months and found this one that I meant to post:

How many times have you gone home after a rough day on the job, moaning about  "the turkeys at work"? Well, in late September, we literally had three wild turkey hens hanging around outside one of our offices. Usually, wild turkeys are extremely wary animals (not like their dumbed-down domesticated cousins), but these three gals let me approach them from the parking lot and take photos at close range. If I'd had any cracked corn on me, I bet they would have been glad to let me share it with them, which makes me wonder if someone kept these particular birds as pets or if they are just going the way of some of our resident (and increasingly domesticated) Canadian geese - who seem to know a good thing when they see it.

Now that Thanksgiving Day is drawing nearer, I hope these gals have managed to stay out of trouble.

A rant on National Boss Day

The greeting card industry really should be ashamed of itself for inventing and promoting obvious scam holidays such as "National Boss Day" - which, by the way, is today - as lame excuses for selling more greeting cards and trinkets. What a load of hooey! While everyone likes to be appreciated, it is plain wrong to expect an employee to pony up for a card or gifts to give to the "boss." It's just too easy for this kind of thing to get out of hand, to become a sort of official competitive-level form of brown-nosing.

Two wonderful employees report to me, and I asked them both to please forgo any sort of boss day recognition.  It just feels unethical to encourage employees to give to their bosses. This is exactly the opposite of how things should be! Rather, I should be on my knees thanking them for being so hard-working and reliable, and hoping they will permit me to take them to lunch!

Despite my protests, a very thoughtful card and some chocolates were waiting on my desk this morning. Sigh. They truly are very kind, those two.

Nonetheless. I don't like to think of myself as a complainer, but am I the only "boss" to have a problem with National Boss Day? After all, as I explained to my own boss, bless him, every day is Boss' Day!

How NOT to get the job

I've mentioned before that I'm a human resources professional. While recruiting is not the only thing I do, it's a big part of my job. Has been for years. I used to recruit white collar professionals in technology, publishing, marketing, and sales. Now that I work at a community health center, I recruit doctors and other health care professionals. And you know what? They make the same job search/interviewing flubs that so many of us make. It kinda humanizes them, but it doesn't usually make me want to hire them.

Here, for your personal edification (or perhaps just your personal entertainment), are some of my top "don'ts" for the job seeker:

1. If you want to include your email address on your CV, this is not the time to go with "supersexy @ domain of choice.com." Not if you want to be taken seriously.
2. No matter how broke you are, no matter how much the burden of student loan debt has laid you low, don't show up at the interview wearing grungy, scruffy, barely-keeping-it-together shoes. Being literally "down at the heels" does not contribute to a professional image.
3. If you do show up at the interview wearing grungy, scruffy, barely-keeping-it-together shoes, don't tug and toy with your shoes and then offer to shake my hand.
4. With your visibly dirty fingernails. Doctor.
5. When I take you to lunch and comment on how much energy our spritely 65 year old waitress has, don't say "I wish I could say the same thing about me!"
6. Don't forget what your mother taught you about standing up straight. Slouching and leaning all over the place as though you need the walls to hold you up does not contribute to a professional image.
7. Don't tell me you left your last job a) because of the "hostile work environment," b) after you formed a union there, or c) after you reported them to OSHA. These actions may have been perfectly warranted for all I know, but too early a disclosure makes a body nervous. It's like being on a first date and spilling the beans in a most unflattering way on all your failed previous relationships.
8. When discussing your background, don't say "Well, everyone embellishes their resume, don't they?"
9. When discussing your education and experience, don't ask "Just how thoroughly do you check credentials, anyway?"
10. If I inform you that we would be delighted to extend an employment offer, but first we need to conduct a preliminary background screen, don't say "Give me the contract first, then you can check my background."

I could go on, and I just might - later.

Also, I can guess that some of you folks might have some advice for us HR-types about how not to treat you when you're applying for employment.... Could be fodder for another post, because, boy, I know we make our share of major gaffes.

In happier news, after being short-staffed for the last couple of months, I'm thrilled about my new assistant who will be starting work next week.

Silent but deadly

The ol' farmette is a lovely few acres that keeps me busy, but it is not a paying gig. In order to fend off the creditors, as well as to justify all that expensive edumacation and book learning what I got, I spend my days managing a small human resources department for a small-to-medium-sized company. I rarely write about current work events, but every once in a while we encounter some HR-ish challenge that is just too juicy not to comment on. This latest is proving to be something of a mini-trend, what with two supervisors in two separate departments recently approaching HR with the same dilemma involving two different employees.

What dilemma is that, you ask?

Employees with flatulence. Employees who work in shared work spaces with other employees and yet they don't seem to notice that their colleagues start going green around the gills when said employees let 'er rip in close quarters. Employees who don't know the meaning of silent but deadly, yet practice it on a daily basis.

What is striking, to me anyway, is that both employees at issue are women. Perhaps my bias is showing, but I tend to think of women as being more considerate about such things. I mean, c'mon, men fart for sport; it's like a competition with them. I once shared an office with a guy who would toot away after lunch. He'd cut one loose, grin, then make an asinine comment like "Whoops! My shoes must be too tight!" He thought he was hilarious. A regular laugh riot. He made that comment Every Single Day.

But the ladies? I'm guessing that these two have a sense of smell as impaired as whatever is causing their persistent state of gassiness. And they must think that if you can't hear it, you can't smell it. Both these women are really nice people, incredibly sweet. They are also, in all other respects, excellent employees. I think they would be mortified to know that their "private" problem has escalated to the point where it has become a topic of discussion and identified as a management issue.

What's truly hilarious is the way the two supervisors approached me about the problem. One supervisor wanted to know about our "policy" in situations like this. What? You think we have a policy on farting? That all we need to say is "I'm sorry, but your bodily emissions are against company policy?" Both supervisors wanted me or another HR representative to speak to their employee about the problem. When I heard that request, I had to give it a pass*. I reminded them that they worked with these employees daily and that they had a responsibility as supervisors to - gasp -supervise them. I also offered some coaching on how to handle the situation: have a private discussion with the employee, be discreet, be sensitive, be aware that there may be a medical issue and suggest that the employee speak to her doctor for professional advice on curbing the problem. Above all, be mindful of how you would want to be treated if you were in her (too tight?) shoes. And, yes, please document the discussion because we HR types want you to document just about everything.

* I tried to hold back, but sometimes you just can't stop a really bad pun.

Taking stock... of what's important

At the risk of sounding downright Grinchy, let me just ask "What the hell is up with all the presents, people?!" No, I'm not talking to you, dear family and friends. I'm talking about my well-meaning co-workers who supposedly agreed that this year we would not resort to buying everyone in our entire office suite a silly tchotchke. Supposedly, we all agreed to make donations to the local women's shelter.  So, why is it that every time I turn around, there is another gift bag on my desk? Do I look like I need any more candy? And I certainly don't need any more holiday candles or votive holders. Okay, sure, I appreciated the little jars of jam. And the homemade oatmeal bread made for a fabulous pairing. But a deal is a deal!

For years, I used to over-compensate and over-give when it came to holiday gift giving. I bought or made little presents for any number of co-workers, and bought extra "generic" items to hold in reserve in case I had inadvertently left someone off my list, a need made all the more urgent if that forgotten person had somehow remembered me. After all, it would never, never, and I mean never do to have a gift go unreciprocated. Then somewhere along the line, I finally learned that a gift can be received graciously, and all that was really needed was a nice, prompt thank-you note. What's more, this is the preferred route if one wants to politely discourage future gift exchanges of the same sort.

So, when I came home with four more presents today than when I had left my office before Christmas Eve, I told myself that it would be right and proper to acknowledge the thoughtfulness of these colleagues by sending thank-you notes, but that also I wanted to let them know that I had made an extra gift to a worthy cause on their behalf (instead of a knick-knack). Since there are no shortages of worthy causes, I began to think of something in addition to the women's shelter. I had been leaning towards a gift through Heifer International, but since hearing the news yesterday, have been haunted by stories of all the victims of the earthquake-borne tsunamis in Bengal Bay.

Michelle very kindly included the links and some compelling images on her blog, so I cemented my decision to make a disaster-relief donation to the Red Cross. I urge you to make a donation, too. As I type this the Red Cross' web site is loading very slowly because of all the traffic. Just be patient. It will load. Or, go to the American Red Cross site, which is loading a lot faster, and make a donation there:

You can help those affected by this crisis and countless others around the world each year by making a financial gift to the American Red Cross International Response Fund, which will provide immediate relief and long-term support through supplies, technical assistance, and other support to those in need. Call 1-800-HELP NOW or 1-800-257-7575 (Spanish). Contributions to the International Response Fund may be sent to your local American Red Cross chapter or to the American Red Cross International Response Fund, P.O. Box 37243, Washington, DC 20013. Internet users can make a secure online contribution by visiting https://www.redcross.org/donate/donation-form.asp.

PS - After making the Red Cross donation, I went ahead and bought someone a llama through Heifer International. I had been meaning to do it anyway, so why not? It all helps. Check them out, they are a very worthwhile cause.

The unwanted audition

We're making a promotional video about the community health center where I work, a short segment about the center's history and the community that can be used for fundraising and recruiting. The videography is complete, but the voiceover narration still needs to be added. Last week, our director of development tapped me to make an initial recording of the script. She told me that she likes my voice and wants to see how well it tapes. In other words, she wanted me to audition to narrate the video.

Ack! I don't usually like my voice. It is all over the map, depending on my mood, my caffeine levels, or how badly my allergies are acting up. I tried, oh how I tried, to beg off of reading the script into a microphone. I pointed out that any number of other coworkers who have voices that are truly mellifluous - not like mine. No go. We had the taping today. I don't think the reading went that well, but the sound guy graciously said I have a good voice. They also recorded another woman who I work closely with - she has a much nicer voice that is consistently strong and pleasant. We'll see who they decide to go with - pleasepleaseplease - I hope it's my coworker!

Everything else aside, I do have a funny story about my "telephone voice." This happened a long time ago, back in my mid-20s when my job involved locating rare and out-of-print books for customers of the bookshop where I worked. Just remember, this was pre-Amazon.com, folks! So, one spring day, I was suffering from the unusually high pollen count. My bronchioles were so constricted that I was beyond wheezing, merely gasping for air periodically. I had to call a customer about picking up his book that had just arrived, and it was all I could do to find enough air to talk. My words came out slow and throaty and breathy: Helloooooo...[puff]...yesssss....[puff]...your booook...[puff]...arrived....[puff]....tooodaaaay....[gasp.]

Somehow I managed to give the fellow all the information he needed so that he could get his book. At the end of the conversation, just as we were about to ring off, the customer interjected: I hope you don't mind me saying this... but, you have the sexiest voice I've ever heard!

Oh, good grief! I didn't have the heart to tell him that I was having an asthma attack! I still get a good laugh thinking about it.

It's going to be an ugly flu season

It's going to be an ugly flu season, but first we've got to get through the ugly flu shot season. You've probably heard about the price-gouging that has already started following the acute shortage of flu vaccines available to the public this year.

Although we only received half of the number of vaccines that were ordered, we were still fortunate to get a good supply of vaccines at the community health center where I work. We will be able to administer vaccines to all our employees (considered high risk because of their on-the-job exposure) and to our high-risk patients. So long as we are dealing with a vaccine shortage, we will only give flu shots to high risk patients of the center. Family members or friends who are not patients and not high risk will have to wait.

Unfortunately, most of the other doctors' offices in the community have not received any vaccine yet - and so we are feeling the pinch and fielding anxious phone calls from those who are afraid of being shut out. The worst so far was from this fellow who called me the other day. He's from one of the wealthiest families in the community, and this is what he said: "I'm just about to make my annual contribution [to the health center], but first, I'd like to find out if I can get a flu shot for my wife and myself." I asked him if he was one of our patients, and he said no. He was making a definite link between giving a financial contribution to our not-for-profit health center and getting vaccinated. For some reason, he thought that calling the human resources office was the proper route for making his slimy, extortionist request.

Much as I dislike the way this man tried to worm a flu shot out of the health center, I do sympathize. The flu can be a scary thing. According to the CDC, the flu kills 36,000 people every year in the US alone.

I got my flu shot Tuesday, and was very glad about it because - even if I didn't work where I do - I would be classified as high risk because of chronic asthma and a history of respiratory problems including three incidents of pneumonia (for which I also get a vaccine). So, yeah, I'm relieved, very relieved, to have access to the flu vaccine.

Keith is not high risk, so even before the CDC issued its latest restrictive guidelines, he had decided to forgo getting a flu shot this year.

Are you high risk? Are you planning on or trying to get a flu vaccine this season?

Crisis services preserved

I know I promised not to blog about my work, but... the community where I work is having a mental health care crisis. I can't say much about it, or provide details, because that wouldn't be appropriate. The big news is that the sole provider of our community's crisis services, who also provided the majority of mental health therapy services to the poor and uninsured, shut its doors today. The community health center where I work is trying to pick up the pieces so that those in need do not have to go without these vital services. We've taken on crisis services - and the good people who staffed the local crisis hotline 24/7, even when their paychecks were bouncing, become the health center's employees as of 12:01 am Eastern Time tonight.

It has been my pleasure to spend the last two evenings meeting with these folks to make sure that we have all their information and required paperwork in place so that they can be sure to get their first paycheck in full and on time. Can you imagine if your job involved fielding phone calls from individuals who may be considering suicide - and you don't know if you can count on getting your next paycheck? That's what these folks have been dealing with for months now. One therapist told me that she went for weeks eating breakfast cereal and other pantry items for all her meals because she had no money for groceries. She finally had to borrow some money when she couldn't even afford to buy toilet paper. Through all the uncertainty, these folks toughed it out because they care deeply about the patients they help. I tell you, these people are heroes.

The group I met with tonight was downright exuberant because they couldn't wait to be able to have pens, post-it notes, copy paper, and Kleenex for their office. Kinda helps put other things in perspective, doesn't it?

First week at the new job

[Still more from the original archives, dated 06-20-2003 10:02 PM.]

There's been a big change on the ol' farmette this week: I started my new job as director of human resources for a rural community health center. It's a wonderful job at a fantastic organization, but sitting at a desk full-time, attending meetings, and wearing business attire has been a bit of an adjustment after a year of lazing around in blue jeans.