Garden of Words

Recess in the Recession: Floricane Is Launched

With minor modifications on the way, here's a glimpse of the new business cards (front and back of the cards) for my business:

Nothing like an identity to make you feel official.

Merry Christmas, the Finale

If we had sent out holiday cards this year, they might have looked something like this:

Barrel-Aged Poetry Submissions

Ironic that as I sit down to toss out a quick post on the state of my poetry in 2008, one of the poets who participated in a reading with me this year sat down at a nearby table and reintroduced himself. The reading -- held in May at the Library of Virginia -- was the first formal reading I've ever been part of, and was my only significant poetic endeavor of the year.

I also submitted four pieces to the Richmond Magazine/James River Writer's Best Poetry Contest, but since no results have been announced I'll chalk that up as a 2009 effort. Since I literally haven't picked up a pen to write any poetry since Thea was born, I went back to the proverbial well with four older pieces that all build on the theme of loss, decay and renewal -- Elegy for September 11, An American Pastoral, Ars Memoriea and Grandfather. I read the first and last of those at the May reading.

An American Pastoral

The summer of scarecrows ends. Empty pastures rattle

with flecks of clay and sand, browned leaves in heat-rippled

updrafts. A dry cough in the air: yellow haze, hints of decay.

Landmarks emerge from shadows: a rusted plow leaning

against the last black walnut tree; fragments of old barns peering

from the horizon; storm-swept fences; a veneer of milkweed seeds

drifting. Almost-forgotten, a fading landscape.

There – the gentle curve of a country drive lost to thickets of grass,

fallen branches. Once-familiar furrows in now-fallow fields buried

beneath a blanket of thatch and clover. Behind the old house,

three apple trees and tendrils of honeysuckle embrace, fill the air.

The mingled scent of overripe fruit and late blossoms hint of fading

beauty, and something once shared. Will this feel less lonesome

when autumn no longer lingers with empty promises of renewal, when

the flat sky echoes with the resonant cries of migrating birds?

I have a very loose commitment to find more time in 2009 for writing -- on my weblogs, for local magazines and more poetry. Check back in 368 days for a progress report.

The Baby Factory: A Walk!

Okay, there have been walks before today but it was exceptionally nice -- gray and overcast, but warm and windy. Nikole, Thea, Rilo and I hit the streets in Thea's souped-up stroller for an hour-plus stroll through Bellevue. Nikole took tons of photos -- some for North Richmond News, and others for her own site.

The Baby Factory: More Kodak Moments

Because Nikole literally takes photos in batches of 300, we have more than our fair share of cute snaps of Thea in action. I'd be working three part-time jobs if we actually had to develop film around here.

Rilo Makes the Ornament Cut

It hasn't even been two full years and Rilo has already earned her first Christmas ornament, courtesy of Thea's Omie (my mom). She's like the Michael Phelps of the Sarvay household.

The Baby Factory: First Christmas

Mom decorates the tree while I play coy with the cameraman.

Really, the best thing about Thea's first Christmas was that we were so able to destroy her sleep schedule that she actually started hallucinating. Giant candy canes dancing around her crib. Elves stringing yarn from her ceiling fan.

Ooh, she's spinning magic taffy for me to chew -- when I get my second set of teeth!

The season started a bit late for us because both Nikole and I have been focused on six hundred other priorities of late. Who has time for Christmas when you're on deadline (we both had pieces due for the January issue of Richmond Magazine), and starting your own business?

And now she's dropping it on the floor for the dog! Curses, foiled again!

First, we went by Tinker's to see about some ornaments. A baby without new ornaments on her first Christmas tree has no business unwrapping presents. The annual Sarvay ornament buying quest transitioned smoothly into a Thea-specific ornament hunt. We found three cute yarn ornaments -- a duck, a frog and a mouse -- that each stood about an inch tall.

Christmas, the edible holiday.

Next, the tree. (Yes, yes. The posts are out of sequence.) Each year, Nikole and I have walked across Hermitage Road to buy our tree from the Richmond Jaycees on the front lawn of Holton Elementary School. Each year, the trees get a little more expensive. This year, Thea tagged along for the ride.

Is this for me!? Really?! For me to open, I mean!?

The third tradition was brand new -- for all of us. A slightly creepy visit to see the "original" Santa Claus at The Children's Museum. No wonder kids freak out. That's all I'm saying. But Thea soldiered through Year One with a stoic face -- much to the delight on Santa, whose pants legs were soaked from the tears of the slightly older, slightly more aware children who passed his way earlier in the day.

Oh, my God! It's Christian Dior, isn't it? I can smell it through the wrapping paper!

The fourth tradition never happened. Well, it happened but it was dusk and Thea was asleep. Yes, the annual Dominion Power Festival of Lights that overcomes great swaths of Richmond each holiday season will be on the Sarvay Holiday Tradition Checklist -- to the dismay of Thea's 14-year-old future self. Christmas lights at 4:00 in the afternoon -- when you can see the houses, and trash on the sidewalks -- is a bit underwhelming.

Whatever, Mom. I'm fixated. And those two front teeth are working their way in nicely, thanks for asking.

The Day Of was enough to push Thea to the brink. She woke bright-and-early (as usual) and Nikole got her ready while I prepped breakfast for our first Christmas Breakfast with the Grandmothers. A generally nasty breakfast casserole from Ukrop's was accompanied by a honey-mint marinated fruit salad; whole grain and cinnamon raisin breads with raspberry and blueberry jams; hot cider; and crab-stuffed artichoke bottoms (courtesy of Nikole's mom).

Are there always going to be 14 people here tearing open gifts simultaneously?

Before the grandparents arrived (three of them -- my mom, and Nikole's mom and stepfather) we sat on the floor with Thea and Rilo and opened gifts.

My cousin Lauren rocked my holiday cheer with a sweet pullover and a stuffed bee.

The best gift awards this year -- Nikole organized a date night in January for the two of us to have dinner and go see Cirque Eloize at the Modlin Center; I arranged a weekly soup delivery from Ipanema Cafe during the month of February; and Thea got enough wooden toys to make her feel like Hans Rinker (or his female counterpart).

It lights up, plays music and looks so good I want to eat it! The whole glass-and-ceramic contraption!

Breakfast was a nice lull in a frantic morning, and after a fruitless attempt to get Thea to nap we raced to my friend Angie's house to see her family -- something I've done every Christmas for 20 years.

My post-Christmas Zen state.

Thea got a 20 minute nap in the car. And another 10 minute nap on the ride from Angie's to my mom's house -- where we were overwhelmed by the chaos that is siblings, nieces, nephews, cousins. Less crazy than when they all ranged from three to 13, but still a bit nuts in the eight to 18 space. Thea is the new addition, and was a bit freaked by the commotion.

From there, we headed to lovely Glen Allen to see my uncle and his wife -- they'd not met Thea yet, so we wanted to make sure we slipped in a quick visit. We missed my dad's other brother and his wife by scant moments, but enjoyed catching up with a portion of the family. Plus, Thea napped for almost 45 minutes between houses.

We got home, fed Thea and repacked our bags before heading to our final destination -- dinner with Nikole's mom and stepfather. It was a low-key way to wrap up the day, but Thea refused to nap or sleep until we got in the car to come home -- another 20 minute nap -- and slept pretty terribly the rest of the night.

Next year, she'll be old enough for a glass of wine at dinner. That'll put her to sleep.

Recess in the Recession: Rebalancing

I've had to make a hard-to-starboard turn this week as my workload suddenly shifted from networking and foundation building to actually doing work. It's been a challenging transition, one that I didn't actually expect to have to make until mid-January.

Not that I'm complaining.

When I started down the path of creating my own business, I got plenty of advice from smart people. One of the pieces of advice that really resonated with me -- "Take the time on the front-end to create a solid foundation for your business, because once you start working it'll be impossible to find the time to go back and fix your bad accounting system, or crappy website," several people told me. It made sense, and so I gave myself until mid-January to finish my networking conversations and do all the tactical work required to set the business on a solid footing.

It was working until I suddenly found myself chasing four pieces of work -- a training session for the Virginia Association of CPA's; a four-week workshop for a large non-profit; turning some ideas on a napkin into a presentation on business reinvention for a large regional corporation; and a proposal for a non-profit in the Tri-Cities area.

Until this week, my typical day involved three-to-five business conversations and an awful lot of emailing. I've been nibbling around the edges of filing for a business license; opening a business checking account; setting up a website. I've got the wheels turning on a visual identity for the business, including a logo, business cards and a website design. I'm beginning to make loose plans for a launch party for the new business that will provide space for several hundred people to connect, get an introduction to the business, and experience firsthand the work I hope to do. Let's not mention the challenges of teaching an eight-month-old how to put herself to sleep, or the approaching holidays.

And so when real work actually showed up on my desk, I realized that it was time to reorient myself. Fast.

Easier said than done. My calendar remains pretty loaded with meetings through the middle of January, and there are still lots of loose business pieces that still need to be coordinated.

Enter the world of the virtual assistant.

A former coworker -- the training coordinator for my old team who also lost her job in November -- has been mulling the idea of providing administrative support remotely. It's an increasingly popular concept, and has been made simple and practical by the slew of Internet technologies that enable what I call "back office driving." Carey and I talked last week about the possibility of her providing coordination and admin support for the business set-up; the launch event; and the identity and website work. We hope to nail down specifics and "ink a deal" after Christmas.

Fortunately, two financial windfalls of sort landed in my mailbox this week.

The first was an option to cash out my pension from my former employer -- something our financial adviser suggested I seize (for a variety of reasons). A portion of that will roll into my new business account, and support the tactical costs of starting up.

The second was more of a surprise, and a bit humbling. It came in the form of a sizable check from two important people in my life to help grease the wheels and get things rolling. It was unexpected, generous, and a bit overwhelming. It continues to surprise me when people step into the breech to support me; I spent most of my life rolling my sleeves up and going it alone. While I'm not sure I'll ever get used to people genuinely wanting to help me succeed, I'm certainly glad I'm able to understand, appreciate and value them for their support.

I have cash. I have clients. I have work. I suppose this means that it's a done deal.

I'm in business for myself.

Recess in the Recession: Work!

In the past several weeks, I've been energized by four pieces of work that I've landed -- or that have landed in my lap. Energized, and a bit overwhelmed. I have another proposal in the hopper, and a sixth potential slice of work to chase down.

All before I've even picked a new logo! (Take a look at my current options here: Download Floricane-logo_ideas_1. Have a favorite? Post it in the comments.)

The Baby Factory: The Great Tree Quest

By all rights, it should have been snowing heavily. We should have had to get out of the car and walk five miles into the woods with a hatchet and lantern. It would have been dark when we emerged, dragging a 75-foot fir tree behind us. But none of that was the case.

We walked across the street and picked out a tree. I carried it back across the street. And so a tradition begins.