Tag Archives: Tennessee

“…filled the position with another applicant”…

Today's letter to mom. Uncomplicated and pretty much a way to help her pass the time - and remind her she's not forgotten.

Landing work is, I think, all about connections.  Try as I might to weave around the HR screens, a few resumes have been sent absent any interaction between me and the recipient.  I’ve expected to hear “no”.  So it is no shocker that the first better luck next time letter has arrived in the mail.  There’s something about reading a sentence that ends “…filled the position with another applicant. ”  It rattles your cage.  For a nanosecond it bothered me.  A tough letter to read but a tough one to write, too.  As they say, you pick yourself up and dust yourself off.

Bottom line, it means  you haven’t cut it, that there was some worrisome shortcoming, a gap in your resume or another factor that overrode supposed strong suits to leave a decision maker unmoved.

Deflating to be sure.  My issue is how to frame it next Monday to Ellen and Reid in such a way that shows forward movement.  We’ve shared a lot of humps and bumps over the years and now is no time to start ducking bad news.   Perhaps this is a moment to drive home that whatever comes our way we can cope with it with acceptance, dignity and grace, positive resignation or other similar traits.  They hope the adage ‘when one door closes, another opens’ is all too true.

Hey, with any luck it will be a set of double doors.


Of course, mom will never hear of such woes.  Instead, she’ll read about the cheery side of life.  Here is today’s letter to her.

August 20, 2010

Mom: Went up last week into what passes for the ‘mountains’ down here and tried my hand at a little fly fishing, and the sum total of the fish caught wouldn’t have made a single mouthful.  I either don’t know how to fish (which could be true) or there weren’t any keeper size fish.  I mean, what I caught wasn’t even tiny.  Tiny is bigger than what I landed.  How they ever got their teeny mouths around the fly is beyond me.  We ran into one old boy, Charlie, who claimed to have caught more than 30 fish that day.  Maybe I just can’t fish.

But we still had fun.  I am reminded that we are in the populous East Coast when you see all the people on the trails.  Hardly what we were used to in the hinterlands of Wyoming and Colorado.  But people seemed to be enjoying themselves which is the point I guess.  We got caught in the rain on the way back down but it was warm so it was still quite comfortable (if you like dripping wet clothes).

We will head back to the hills tomorrow and this time will go further west into North Carolina and almost to the Tennessee border.  The report is that there are real fish in the stream but until some are actually caught that report remains just hearsay.  We will be along a body of water called the Valley River.

The update on the tomatoes is that there are no tomatoes.  Lots of green leaves but no fruit on the vine.  The only thing that’s doing well is the basil plant, and I don’t eat that much basil.

Ellen is hard at work at her new teaching job.  They’ve hit it pretty hard this week in teacher orientations, and it seems to me her second grade classes start right about the first week in September.  She is pretty upbeat about the whole thing, which is good.  She’s trying awfully hard at it.  She has a big dog now.  His name is Henry and he is nothing short of a horse.  In a pinch he could pull a wagon filled with hay.

Of course, there is no word from Reid.  But does that surprise you?  Not me.

Haven’t been playing any golf.  Just sort of golfed out.  The clubs are on a hook in the garage and there they will stay for at least the near term future.

It’s been too hot to cook these days so the oven and stovetop haven’t seen a lot of use.  The BLTs are good this time of year, and I’ve sliced some cucumbers and soaked them in apple cider vinegar just like you used to do.  Now that’s eating.  Wish there were some tomatoes to go with it but there aren’t.  That won’t stop me from trying to grow some next year.  It can’t be worse than this time around, can it?


Leave a comment

Filed under Adult Children, Contact, Family, Parents, Writing to adult children