Deadlines

I'm wondering how we ever came up with the word "deadline." Does it mean what it connotes? If you don't meet the line I've established in the sand, you're "dead." I don't know if that's even close, but I do know that I take deadlines seriously because of not wanting to find out what happens if I don't.

My fetish for meeting my deadlines probably started about fifty years ago when I was a first-year 4-H'er enrolled in cooking and arts and crafts projects. Though it was difficult for a dexterity-impaired klutz, I managed to finish my crude pine basket with the plywood bottom in time for the county fair.

And, I had no problem cooking up my assigned weenie boats and purple cows during the project year. I do recall some problems with the homemade vanilla pudding; that occurred because I hadn't quite grasped the concept of what a full boil happened to be.

When my mother came to the house and saw me pouring lumpy milk from the saucepan into individual dishes, she uttered a characteristic remark about how odd the concoction looked and ordered me to pour each dishful back into the pan, after which she showed me what a full boil looked like---in the saucepan, that is.

When fair time came, I had met all but one project deadline. Not a bad record, but in order for the project to be complete and for me to get a ribbon and $2 or $3, I needed to turn in a completed record book detailing expenses and other details associated with each of my arts and crafts and cooking experiences.

I fell short, really short in meeting my end of the deal. I think I had filled out the front of my record book with my name, age and serial number, but inside, the page blanks remained empty, and I had written no story.

Mrs. Hudon would not stand for this. She told Mother she would not sign my record book and that I would not complete first year in either project. Mother was a little miffed, and so was I.

Later, however, I realized that Lucille Hudon had taught me a wonderful and important lesson in life. I don't think I've missed a deadline yet because of the awful feeling of failure that experience provided. I never wanted to experience that feeling again.

So, I meet deadlines. I've got two to meet this week with columns due. I've already submitted one and will probably send off the other later today or tomorrow. When those responsibilities have been met, I'll have a clear mind for a couple of weeks. And, I'll relish every moment.

Most of the year, I live with deadlines gnawing away inside my brain. It's not a fun feeling, but the results of meeting them two or three times a month are often rewarding enough to endure the mental itch that never seems to go away.

I'm sitting here right now at 7:45 a.m. wondering where the crew constructing our new building happens to be this morning. Yesterday I was asked if it was okay if they show up at 6:30 a.m.

"Of course," I said. "We're up at 5." And, of course, I was going to encourage any behavior that would GET THAT DAMN BUILDING DONE. Readers may have noticed lapses in the progress photos I've been posting on the blog. Well, I've also noticed lapses in progress, and it's beginning to irritate me.

They told us "two weeks" for construction back on April 1 when we handed over a big chunk of our savings. They told us they'd start as soon as the snow was gone in May. After I did a little wheel squeaking subsequent to several broken promises to show up on certain days, the construction finally began---more than a month ago.

Last week, the crew was putzing right along, and the project finish time for the shell, minus its concrete floor and big doors, was Thursday. On Wednesday, they said they'd be back the next day to finish up. We saw no one until Monday, and that was only for four hours. On Tuesday nobody showed up.

I called the company late that afternoon and received the same litany of excuses I'd heard before, with the exception of one new one: one of my best workers has gone on a Caribbean cruise.

Am I the only person who thinks it's strange that a construction worker in North Idaho's limited construction season takes a vacation in July to go on a Caribbean cruise?

Oops, maybe I'm getting too revved up. I'd better settle down, especially because at almost 8 a.m., the crew has just rolled in. This tardiness is not their fault, I don't think. It just seems strange that business owners would assure the customer of certain promises, take that customer's money and then take their sweet time fulfilling their part of the deal.

Maybe these folks needed to have Lucille Hudon teach them a little about completing assignments and meeting deadlines. If that had happened, I'll bet our building would be a finished product by now, and I wouldn't be griping.