Notes from A Cottage Industry

Who's the best speaker of the week?

Me, thats who. (Somebody, pinch me!)

I am really not into shameless bragging..but...this morning I finally got to give my second speech at Toasties. Three speakers are lined up each week, all three evaluated, and then the entire club votes. One of the other speakers is a seasoned guy (been a Toastie for 30+ years!) and to put it in perspective....he was dressed in western attire, and I truly felt like I was up against Mark Twain. (and that's putting it mildly) I mean, this guy rocks. A real pro. So, once he spoke I was sure I'd be a let down for the crowd.

Not so. (Somebody! Pinch me again!)

I get to keep the trophy for the week. It's sitting proudly on my desk at my grown up girl job. They said my speech was the caliber they look for in competitions. Oh. My. Ga.

*sigh* I'm walking on clouds today, people.

A second speech for the Toasties

    Today I am presenting my second speech at the Toastmaster meeting. (Actually, I am a back up speaker if someone scheduled to speak is a no show, so I have to be ready to speak.) I'm a wreck again, only not so bad as last time. The second speech is all about "Organizing your speech". I decided to write about my entering the workforce outside my home....here's my speech:

Second in the “My not so ordinary life” Series,

June Cleaver goes corporate

  Mr. Toastmaster, fellow toastmasters and guests,

     Fashion can be a powerful thing.

      After staying home and raising babies for more than 2 decades it was time for me to get a job outside of my home. But, what kind of job?

    Oh, I had dabbled in a few stints as a retail clerk, one Christmas at Macy's in the holiday department, and at JCPenney’s for a year part time.
     Although I loved the socializing part of these jobs, and the store discounts, these jobs were really not what I was looking for…No. After soul searching and a long, deep talk with myself, I knew what I wanted.
     I wanted a job, no, I wanted a career, where I could work up the corporate step ladder. In short, a career I could dress in those sassy suits and separates I’d see each week in the Sunday paper. That’s right people; I wanted a job where I could wear cute shoes.
    I began combing the classifieds for “office jobs” although all I had going for me was that I had taught myself a few computer skills. (OK, I knew how to type a basic correspondence letter in word)
    I confided my plan to work in an office where I could wear cute shoes to my best friend. She said she was not sure, but she thought her husband’s organization was looking for a part-time receptionist.
    Oh. My. Gosh.
    Perfect! I was looking for a position where I could continue the nurturing and caregiving, like I had done for my children and husband for so many years, with that added perk of cute shoes, and this sounded like this was it.
     I put on my dressiest mom clothes and headed over to this organization. This place was called "EDAWN". For the life of me I had no idea what an EDAWN was, but no matter, that was a small detail I could figure out after they hired me.
     I burst into the office, and whisking my windblown hair out of my face, asked the receptionist for an application.
     “An application?” Asked the perky receptionist in the cute black suit. “Do you have a resume?”
Oh.
   A resume. Brilliant. (Why didn’t I think of that?) Well, no I didn’t have one, I told her. She rummaged around and thank you, sweet Jesus, she found some actual old school applications in a drawer. She came around the counter in her oh, so terribly cute shoes (of course) and handed me the form. I sat down right there and filled it in. I handed it back to her with a smile. “Here you go”, I said fluffing my hair again.
   “ Thanks so much, we’ll be in touch,” she replied.
    Huh? In touch?
Oh, ya. Sure. Gotcha. Obviously they needed a few hours to look at my app and call me back. Days went by. Ok, actually a week and a half. They finally called me to come in for an interview.
   OK. So, this would be the day they would hire me, I thought.
   At this interview, the CEO’s assistant explained to me what this part time receptionist job entailed. I tell you, it was a dream job. Welcome guests, set up for meetings, be warm and fuzzy. In general- be me! A June Cleaver of the corporate world, if you will.  I wanted that job so bad I could taste it.
    At the end of the 30 minute interview the exec assistant said, “We have several more candidates to interview. We’ll be in touch.” There was that damned “We’ll be in touch” thing again. Couldn’t she see I was the one for the job? Apparently not.
    Another week and half went by before I got a follow up call. Could I come for another interview? Why, yes, of course.
    “I get it”, I thought. They want to offer me the job in person. I googled EDAWN and discovered it meant Economic Development Authority of Western Nevada. Ok, whatever. That’s a mouthful. Sheesh, no wonder they went by EDAWN…still slightly confused on what EDAWN did, I read on, and discovered that they worked with companies moving to the area and they had members…so it was like this kind of hip club of business people and they did good things for the community. Cool. I was jiggy with that.
     I put on the last daytime dressy-ish outfit I owned (For the record- Stay at home moms types do not usually have more than 3 dressy outfits, as they are usually cleaning, dining at Qdoba with other stay at home types or entertaining the dog.)
     This second interview was with the CEO and the exec assistant and it seemed to go well, at least from my perspective. Again, they said they’d be in touch.
     Right…
A week went by, and no word. I had to accept the cold reality. I was not what they wanted. Dejected, I decided I must be meant to sell appliances, or foundation garments for women or some such thing, without the benefits of a sassy suit or cute shoes and so... I began to look else ware.
      I got out of the shower to find I had a voice mail waiting for me from EDAWN.
     “Please give us a call,” said the woman’s monotone voice on my machine. I played it back 72 times trying to decipher the tone in her voice. Clearly they didn’t want me. Clearly they wanted to let me down easy, which explained the phone call. I was convinced that God was having a huge laugh at my expense, watching me struggle and now he was going to laugh again as I was denied by this organization filled with friendly people that dressed with such style. Obviously this was some sick character building episode in my life.
    It was 9 a.m. I called the office. To my surprise (shock really) I was told they wanted me. THEY wanted ME.  Could I start that very morning at 11? Yes!

    Oh, and they were having a board retreat. Yes! (Whatever a board retreat was…count me in, baby!) I hurried on in and was baptized into the EDAWN culture that day, at the Peppermill Hotel, at a “board retreat”. They gave me an EDAWN issued men’s size extra large blue wrinkled chambray shirt, emblazoned with the EDAWN logo, that fit me like a paint smock to wear at the board retreat. I didn’t care. I was high on life. (So high in fact that I never even asked my pay rate until a full two weeks later.)

*sigh* I had a job. No, I had a career. And I was going to wear cute shoes. Every. day.

Thank you Mr. Toastmaster, fellow toastmasters and guests.

The Icebreaker

      You remember that I joined Toastmasters, right? It's been several weeks since I joined. It's not so much just a club, but also a bit like a class.
  They send you a massive packet of stuff to study and you have speech assignments. I have learned so much (Like the fact that I say "Um" a lot) and the people in my club are fabulous. Every age- Gen X'ers to old timers, and they're all good speakers.They're all working to get even better.
    I have a mentor in the group. Her name is Ruth. She's easy to talk to and gives me great tips and advice. I really like her.
     It's a fun club, and I look forward to Thursdays, even though I am terrified that they might call on me to give a " Table topics " quick thinking two minute speech.
     It's actually a lot of work, learning to stop saying "Um" between words, and to be concise and not get off topic, and speak in front of people you don't know from Adam.
    Tomorrow I am giving my first "real" speech at Toastmasters. It's called an "Ice breaker" speech and it it's 4 to 6 minutes long, telling about yourself. Sounds easy. It's not.
     Anyway, it occurred to me that you might like to know a bit more about me, yourself. I mean, my background, in a 4 to 6 minute nutshell, which, by the way, is no easy task. (I had no idea I was so long winded till I wrote the speech and then had to scale it back)
So, get yourself a cuppa and have a seat. Here is my "Icebreaker". Oh, and you must have a title for your speeches,so here is mine:

The first in the series of "My not so ordinary life" -
I used to be June Cleaver, but I'm not sure who I am now

Mr. Toastmaster, fellow toastmasters and guests,

My drivers license says my name is Tracey Buxton.  I used to be June Cleaver, but I’m really not sure who I am now. I'd like to start off with a few trivial facts about myself-

I was born in San Francisco and raised in the bay area. According to the pictures of me, I don’t think I was the cutest baby on the block, but I do remember that I was a happy child.
I always did well in school, and was seriously the most sought after babysitter in east San Jose in the late 60’s.
I never had a date or a kiss till I was 17 and a half.
     High school graduation day came, and as was typical of the times, all of my girlfriends hoped and planned for jobs like teachers and legal secretaries or nurses. I not-so-secretly longed to get married, to “do crafts” and raise a massive brood of babies.
     Fast forward 2 years, during which time I dabbled in a few college classes, went to Beauty College to become a hairdresser, and finally, married my high school sweet heart.
     Fast forward another 6 years and 3 babies later. We couldn’t afford to buy a home in California, because every time we thought we had some down payment money we’d have another baby.
     My husband at the time was offered a transfer to Reno Nev-ah-da. "Absolutely not!" I said. I hadn’t been to Reno, but from what I knew, it was riddled with gambling casinos, and cat houses; certainly no place to raise our children. Well, my husband insisted that we simply must come take a look-see, after all it was a free weekend get away, and believe me, when you have 3 children under 4 and the words "free weekend getaway" are about as exciting as winning the lottery. So, we came and took a look.
     Wow. Real families lived here. Not a cathouse in sight. Heck, this place was as close to Mayberry as you could get! We returned home, he took the transfer, we bundled up our little family and moved away from the by now unaffordable bay area to Reno. We quickly learned to pronounce Nev-aaa-da and began life in paradise..
     *sigh* I was in my glory, living out my fantasy life as the June Cleaver of the biggest little city. I had it all, and I knew it. I was married to the man of my dreams. I had a house with 2 car garage a yard, 3 kids and a dog. I was the head room mother, decorating the house and having couple’s dinner parties. Aah, life was good.
    The years catapulted into decades and before I could blink twice, we were shopping for colleges for our third and last babe to leave the nest.
     I remember vividly, one morning in November of 2002, when that third baby was a senior in high school, it suddenly hit me. I was being forced into a mandatory retirement. Not retirement from motherhood entirely, because I think that’s actually illegal, but certainly from packing lunches and monitoring curfew times.
    I was headed for the proverbial empty nest stage of my life. It became clear to me that soon, it would be my dear hubby and I headed into the golden twilight years to sit on the porch in dueling rockers, and travel around all the national parks in a slow moving RV during summertime.
    I had a light bulb moment that day.. Clearly, it was time for me to get a j-o-b. A job OUTSIDE of my home.
    By the end of January 2003, I ended up after a long and painfully drawn out process with a real grown up girl job at EDAWN, the Economic Development Authority of Western Nevada (but that’s a whole other speech for another time)
    At the same time, I began a little home based craft business and later, a Blog online named "A cottage Industry", where I was able to dabble in a longtime passion of mine, creative writing, and share my crafty projects, along with entertaining, how to's and decorating tips.
    You know, they say things happen for a reason and it's true.
    Fast forward once again- A year ago on the last day of September, I came home to find myself suddenly single. Literally. Suddenly.
    Single, after nearly 30 years of what I had gravely mistaken for wedded bliss.
    Time stopped.
    After slowly coming to the realization that I wouldn’t be spending my golden years with that guy I thought was the man of my dreams, I found myself, along with my dogs, starting over at the mid century mark. Not at all how I had pictured myself spending my 50th birthday. After this shock wore off a bit, I realized just how grateful I was for this job.  I was also grateful for my family and friends, both here and throughout my Blog readership. They were my lifesavers, they encouraged me to move forward.
    It took a long while, but gradually I found my footing. Life returned. Slowly at first. Yes, it is different. Not better, not worse, just different.
    In the year that has past since then, I have had celebrated my five year anniversary at EDAWN (I celebrated with a pair of Jessica Simpson stiletto heels and lunch out with my coworkers)
    I've planned 3 weddings for my 3 children within the past 12 months. I continue to paint vintage furniture, recreate a home within my little cottage where I now live with my dogs and have coordinated a successful vintage craft fair.
    These days, I’m not sure if I am June Clever, Martha Stewart, Erma Bombeck, or possibly Bob Villa. What I am sure of is life goes on whether we’re having fun or not, and we’re all about as happy as we make up our minds to be.
    Thank you Mr. Toastmaster, fellow toastmasters and guests.

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Ok, that's the speech. I hope you feel like you know me just a little bit better!