Tom and Maureen say:
The last week or so it's been nothing but noses to the grindstone getting the work done that would allow us to begin the not-very-long, but still somewhat winding road known as obtaining the permits required for Z to open its doors.
The permitting process in Manchester is far from onerous, but it must be followed in a very specific order, each step dependent upon the one before it.
That journey came to an end at 3:30p yesterday when we obtained the last permit needed to go before the State Liquor Commission today and get our liquor license. What does this mean? Well, once we have our liquor license, we can open the doors any time we're ready.
And being ready means that we took about five minutes to celebrate and then it was back to work. Recipes tweaks. Getting the liquor order finalized so the second we have the license, we can fax it off. Programming the POS system. Printing the menus. Assembling materials for staff training. It's at the point now where prioritizing is impossible because everything's of equal importance. And details that seem like they'd no take time, are eating up hours.
But we're close. Close enough that the light at the end of the tunnel is a beacon instead of a pinprick.
Showing posts with label Priorities. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Priorities. Show all posts
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
"But All Shall Be Well...
...and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well."
T.S. Eliot quoted this line from Julian of Norwich in the fourth of his Four Quartets, Little Gidding, and it's a relevant balm for the rash of stress and chaos spreading across our lives at the moment.
But my favorite quote from this English Mystic called Julian, the mantra if you will that's getting us through these days, is this:
"Start by doing what is necessary; then do what is possible; and suddenly you are doing the impossible."
We wouldn't mind a few of those miracles you hear about sometimes either. I'm just sayin'.
Oh, yeah: this is Maureen if you hadn't guessed already. Carry on.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Avoidance. Sort of. Not Really.
Maureen says:
Am nearly out from under the weather, although winter-chapped skin and a nasal tone would lead you to believe otherwise. My sense of taste, however, has returned and just in time to sip my way through a package of sample teas that arrived in yesterday's mail. Three bags into my tasting, a fourth steeping now, and my choice of suppliers is simple. I'll opt out of revealing which Choice Organic Teas I've selected, but I'll promise you that each of them is perfectly lovely. I've also located a local, independent coffee roaster that, like COT, supports Fair Trade. Am very excited to schedule the tasting as, whenever possible, we'd like to do business with local independents (if you'd like to learn more about Fair Trade click here; to find Fair Trade Certified products near you, click here).
Tea is one of several things I turn to in moments of overwhelm. I'm sure Tom would prefer that I turn to it always as some weeks ago the panacea-of-the-day was dismantling my home office somewhere between the time he started dinner and well past my bedtime. Three hours and many reconfigurations later, it became a much better-functioning space (still in need of paint, still with no art on the walls or blinds in the window, but, you know: Rome. A day. Not built in).
I know, I know--my behaviors are transparent even to me. Create an illusion of control over the world? Check. A quick and easy sense of accomplishment? Check. Impose order on a room that has, for months and months also served as a catch-all for things like the cordless drill, shipping boxes and gift wrap? Check. Channel nervous energy? Check. (If you find yourself in a similar state of anxiety but without a home office to reconfigure, then I highly recommend the also-satisfying task of tidying the pantry cupboards.)
It may seem to some that I'm resisting overwhelm or worse, denying I'm overwhelmed by procrastinating and thus making matters worse. The truth is, I'm actually working with overwhelm the best way I know how: by performing tasks that produce tangible results. Call me daft, dotty or dim, but when the last book's spine is aligned with the edge of the shelf and various half-emptied boxes of corn starch are combined into one, I feel a little bit stronger. A little more equal to the tasks waiting for me. A little more David to the GIANT that is opening a restaurant.
Because, while I can afford myself the luxury of vacuuming the dryer vent or deleting watched items off the DVR, a moment spent in self doubt would break the spiritual bank.
This post? Provides the joy of having written without the pain of writing about the 427, 982 things that are freaking me out right about now.
Am nearly out from under the weather, although winter-chapped skin and a nasal tone would lead you to believe otherwise. My sense of taste, however, has returned and just in time to sip my way through a package of sample teas that arrived in yesterday's mail. Three bags into my tasting, a fourth steeping now, and my choice of suppliers is simple. I'll opt out of revealing which Choice Organic Teas I've selected, but I'll promise you that each of them is perfectly lovely. I've also located a local, independent coffee roaster that, like COT, supports Fair Trade. Am very excited to schedule the tasting as, whenever possible, we'd like to do business with local independents (if you'd like to learn more about Fair Trade click here; to find Fair Trade Certified products near you, click here).
Tea is one of several things I turn to in moments of overwhelm. I'm sure Tom would prefer that I turn to it always as some weeks ago the panacea-of-the-day was dismantling my home office somewhere between the time he started dinner and well past my bedtime. Three hours and many reconfigurations later, it became a much better-functioning space (still in need of paint, still with no art on the walls or blinds in the window, but, you know: Rome. A day. Not built in).
I know, I know--my behaviors are transparent even to me. Create an illusion of control over the world? Check. A quick and easy sense of accomplishment? Check. Impose order on a room that has, for months and months also served as a catch-all for things like the cordless drill, shipping boxes and gift wrap? Check. Channel nervous energy? Check. (If you find yourself in a similar state of anxiety but without a home office to reconfigure, then I highly recommend the also-satisfying task of tidying the pantry cupboards.)
It may seem to some that I'm resisting overwhelm or worse, denying I'm overwhelmed by procrastinating and thus making matters worse. The truth is, I'm actually working with overwhelm the best way I know how: by performing tasks that produce tangible results. Call me daft, dotty or dim, but when the last book's spine is aligned with the edge of the shelf and various half-emptied boxes of corn starch are combined into one, I feel a little bit stronger. A little more equal to the tasks waiting for me. A little more David to the GIANT that is opening a restaurant.
Because, while I can afford myself the luxury of vacuuming the dryer vent or deleting watched items off the DVR, a moment spent in self doubt would break the spiritual bank.
This post? Provides the joy of having written without the pain of writing about the 427, 982 things that are freaking me out right about now.
Friday, December 29, 2006
Hocus Focus
Tom says:
Even though we finalized the lease today and I met with our interior designer, Ariel Duffy, and had another meeting with a payroll vendor, it feels like I accomplished little today.
That's far from the truth--I discussed bar build plans with the contractor, cleaned up areas of the kitchen, and started my small wares needs list--but productivity, for me, has always had its basis in product. An order comes into the kitchen, I fire it up, plate it and scrutinize the presentation before approving it for the table. Clear start, clear finish. Clearly, I need to adjust my definition of productivity and, while I'm at it, stop judging myself.
What can I say? This part of a restaurant opening--the true startup phase--is completely new to me. I've been on the opening staffs of four restaurants in my day, in both back-of-the-house and front-of-the-house positions. In all cases, I came on board in the final weeks before we unlocked the doors. Vendor contracts were signed. Suppliers in place. Decisions around design and decor, smalls wares and table settings, and menu design and service protocol were already made.
At that stage, there's an easily definable rhythm to the day as, believe it or not, the pressure of the impending grand opening focuses the mind. Where I'm at isn't exactly soft planning, but without firm dates to structure a timeline around, it's not hard planning either. Right now, the challenge for me, is to focus.
But I'm fortunate that I have a sizable support group to call on for counsel, support and advice. I risk sentimentality here, but I'd like to acknowledge the members of that group. I'll shout out to Jack, too, the finance broker without whom I wouldn't be thanking anyone on this blog. In no particular order, then:
Bill Lee, owner of Bahama Billy's, who instilled the confidence that led me to the knowledge that I'm read for this challenge.
Noel Young, who was a gale force in helping me to realize my potential.
Tim Poplar, whose leadership and friendship heavily shaped my career.
Ed Aloise, who showed me, during the years we worked together, the blueprint for operating a successful restaurant.
And the passionate, energetic Pam Kelley whose encouragement and resources have been invaluable since we returned to Manchester.
Thank you to each and everyone one of you. The more frantic things get, the more and more I hope you keep taking my calls.
Even though we finalized the lease today and I met with our interior designer, Ariel Duffy, and had another meeting with a payroll vendor, it feels like I accomplished little today.
That's far from the truth--I discussed bar build plans with the contractor, cleaned up areas of the kitchen, and started my small wares needs list--but productivity, for me, has always had its basis in product. An order comes into the kitchen, I fire it up, plate it and scrutinize the presentation before approving it for the table. Clear start, clear finish. Clearly, I need to adjust my definition of productivity and, while I'm at it, stop judging myself.
What can I say? This part of a restaurant opening--the true startup phase--is completely new to me. I've been on the opening staffs of four restaurants in my day, in both back-of-the-house and front-of-the-house positions. In all cases, I came on board in the final weeks before we unlocked the doors. Vendor contracts were signed. Suppliers in place. Decisions around design and decor, smalls wares and table settings, and menu design and service protocol were already made.
At that stage, there's an easily definable rhythm to the day as, believe it or not, the pressure of the impending grand opening focuses the mind. Where I'm at isn't exactly soft planning, but without firm dates to structure a timeline around, it's not hard planning either. Right now, the challenge for me, is to focus.
But I'm fortunate that I have a sizable support group to call on for counsel, support and advice. I risk sentimentality here, but I'd like to acknowledge the members of that group. I'll shout out to Jack, too, the finance broker without whom I wouldn't be thanking anyone on this blog. In no particular order, then:
Bill Lee, owner of Bahama Billy's, who instilled the confidence that led me to the knowledge that I'm read for this challenge.
Noel Young, who was a gale force in helping me to realize my potential.
Tim Poplar, whose leadership and friendship heavily shaped my career.
Ed Aloise, who showed me, during the years we worked together, the blueprint for operating a successful restaurant.
And the passionate, energetic Pam Kelley whose encouragement and resources have been invaluable since we returned to Manchester.
Thank you to each and everyone one of you. The more frantic things get, the more and more I hope you keep taking my calls.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Commitment to Organize
Tom says:
Today may have been my first full day to focus on Z, but a lot of the people I needed to talk to weren’t in the office. I spent my time setting up my own office in our waiting-to-be-refitted space. When that was done, I started in on my first to-do list. One item on that list was to create a system. A system to manage the information I need at my fingertips, the tasks I need to complete and the progress we’re making in relation to budget and timeline.
Anyone who knows me is familiar with my own brand of organization: what’s not in my head is scribbled, illegibly, on random scraps of paper scattered far and wide. Just in getting this deal done I began to understand that this haphazard system that’s served me in the past isn’t going to cut it from here on out. For the sake of my sanity and for the good of Z, I hereby commit to getting and staying organized.
Other items on the list? Telephone calls. Emails. Printer paper. Sketching floor plans. Without ordering food, writing inventory sheets and actual cooking on that list, this doesn't feel like opening a restaurant.
Maureen says:
Did I read that right? Tom's committed, in front of Internet, to get and stay organized? Be still my beating heart. Nine years of project management and coordinating two cross-country moves more than qualifies me to pitch in here, but I confess, it’s also for my own sanity. The less I hear, “Honey, do you know where I left the fill-in-the-blank?” the more harmony there’ll be at home.
So off we went to procure all manner of things necessary to support the way Tom naturally works with organizational methods that still make sense. While I do believe that we’re all infinitely capable of learning new ways to do familiar things, I also believe that to some extent we are who we are as people. Tom is never going to clap his hands with glee at the sight of my label maker and I’m never going to put anything I can’t afford not to remember on a Post-It note.
My goals for the week include signing up with the web host recommended to me by Indiana Michael who shan’t be confused with Boston Michael, though they are both v. v. talented web developers and designers. I’ve also committed to defining the site architecture and generating first drafts of site copy so that once we’ve finalized the logo, Boston Michael can start on the site design. I worked for three Internet startups in three consecutive years doing site implementation—crazy, yes?—and I’ve published various personal Web sites over the years (back in the olden days when they were called online journals instead of blogs), but this, this is different. I have personal and professional stakes in all matters. Yes, there’s revenue to generate and success to achieve, but there’s also the care and feeding of someone else's DREAM. Someone with whom I happen to share a home and life. It's been said that love means never having to say you're sorry, but in this case I hope it means I never have to say, "Honey? I deleted the Web site."
Today may have been my first full day to focus on Z, but a lot of the people I needed to talk to weren’t in the office. I spent my time setting up my own office in our waiting-to-be-refitted space. When that was done, I started in on my first to-do list. One item on that list was to create a system. A system to manage the information I need at my fingertips, the tasks I need to complete and the progress we’re making in relation to budget and timeline.
Anyone who knows me is familiar with my own brand of organization: what’s not in my head is scribbled, illegibly, on random scraps of paper scattered far and wide. Just in getting this deal done I began to understand that this haphazard system that’s served me in the past isn’t going to cut it from here on out. For the sake of my sanity and for the good of Z, I hereby commit to getting and staying organized.
Other items on the list? Telephone calls. Emails. Printer paper. Sketching floor plans. Without ordering food, writing inventory sheets and actual cooking on that list, this doesn't feel like opening a restaurant.
Maureen says:
Did I read that right? Tom's committed, in front of Internet, to get and stay organized? Be still my beating heart. Nine years of project management and coordinating two cross-country moves more than qualifies me to pitch in here, but I confess, it’s also for my own sanity. The less I hear, “Honey, do you know where I left the fill-in-the-blank?” the more harmony there’ll be at home.
So off we went to procure all manner of things necessary to support the way Tom naturally works with organizational methods that still make sense. While I do believe that we’re all infinitely capable of learning new ways to do familiar things, I also believe that to some extent we are who we are as people. Tom is never going to clap his hands with glee at the sight of my label maker and I’m never going to put anything I can’t afford not to remember on a Post-It note.
My goals for the week include signing up with the web host recommended to me by Indiana Michael who shan’t be confused with Boston Michael, though they are both v. v. talented web developers and designers. I’ve also committed to defining the site architecture and generating first drafts of site copy so that once we’ve finalized the logo, Boston Michael can start on the site design. I worked for three Internet startups in three consecutive years doing site implementation—crazy, yes?—and I’ve published various personal Web sites over the years (back in the olden days when they were called online journals instead of blogs), but this, this is different. I have personal and professional stakes in all matters. Yes, there’s revenue to generate and success to achieve, but there’s also the care and feeding of someone else's DREAM. Someone with whom I happen to share a home and life. It's been said that love means never having to say you're sorry, but in this case I hope it means I never have to say, "Honey? I deleted the Web site."
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