FROM THE BY SARAH NIGBOR Deadline driven days I thrive on deadlines. Good thing, because in this business, it’s important to meet deadlines. If you’re late, if affects the people waiting on you …
BY SARAH NIGBOR
Deadline driven days
I thrive on deadlines. Good thing, because in this business, it’s important to meet deadlines. If you’re late, if affects the people waiting on you to submit your content. The editor, the designer, the printer. If you don’t turn your work in on time, then the designer has to wait to lay it out on the pages. And if the designer is late, then the printer is going to be late, which means their print plant employees have to wait around. Let’s just say I try to never be late, and usually succeed. I do not want to be the weakest link.
I think I’ve passed my deadline-driven ways down to my daughter. This past week was Pierce County Fair week, which is a busy week for many area families. Carolina is an Explorer in 4-H, so she doesn’t have as many projects yet as the older kids, but it’s still a juggling act to get everywhere. She has the memory of a steel trap. She knows where she needs to be at exactly what time, and she’s usually prepared way ahead of time. She had her fair projects done this past spring. No procrastinating for this little one.
She helped her 4-H club put up the club booth in the Round Barn on Monday. It’s tradition to put up the booth in sweltering, suffocating heat, praying for a breath of cool air to waft through the open doors. My son accompanied us, and was bundled up in an Under Armour sweatshirt while the rest of us had sweat dripping down our faces and were using paper as fans. Go figure.
After the booth was up, it was a mad dash over to the Kenny Hines Memorial Building for conference judging on her Explorer projects. She received good feedback, and was pleased with her results. She is already planning next year’s projects. They will probably be done by Christmas, knowing her.
After judging, the kids came with me to the Pierce County Sheriff’s Office, where I wrote the weekly sheriff’s reports. They were reasonably good there (I think knowing the jail was downstairs was a deterrent), but I’m pretty sure they went to the restroom at least six times in two hours. They were in awe each time they glimpsed a deputy in uniform. And at one point, my son flipped off his chair and made a gigantic noise, so God only knows what they thought was going on in the media room. A threat to visit the jailer calmed the ants in his pants. Multitasking is a joy. Is school starting yet?
Next we headed back home, which is about 30 minutes away, to pick up Carolina’s Mini Rex rabbit, Henry, who needed to be checked into the fair between 4:30-7 p.m. Little Miss Organized had her rabbit’s food, hay, treats, leash, harness and costume all packed and ready to go neatly in a plastic bag. She is 9 going on 40. It’s a blessing! She also reminded me to get her check-in tags, her bunny’s breeding history (just in case) and her fair pass, though we wouldn’t need it until Thursday.
Back at the fair, we got Henry checked into his accommodations. He passed inspection, but of course had a rabbit turd clinging to his little bottom when the superintendent inspected him. She gently suggested we wipe his bottom with a wet wipe. Carolina was mortified and I was laughing. What can you do?
Soon I was teetering on a ladder in the far reaches of the rabbit/poultry barn, attempting to tie some festive flags above our club’s cages. I managed to not fall off the ladder, which was a win. My son was supposed to be holding it; I looked down and he had one finger on the ladder while he shoveled Fuego Takis into his mouth with the other hand. Way to keep it steady. Henry was settled in and munching on treats, looking with disdain at the noisy chickens across the aisle. He soon touched noses with his bunny neighbor and seemed content.
Then it’s off for home to finish editing articles for the paper, since it is deadline day. Once that was complete, Carolina and I made signs for our club’s section of the rabbit barn. Glitter glue was in abundance. I cut out many cloverleafs.
We met all of our deadlines that day and collapsing into bed was the best feeling. When the alarm went off at 5 a.m., it was off to the races for another day of fair judging and newspaper deadlines. Fair week is hectic, but it’s the best week of the year.