Editor's Desk - July/August 2019

Victory Is Mine!

Or it will be. Eventually. Maybe.

British horticulturalist and garden designer Gertrude Jekyll said, "A garden is a grand teacher. It teaches patience and careful watchfulness; it teaches industry and thrift; above all it teaches entire trust."

You know what else it teaches? It teaches realism—maybe even a sort of fatalism. No matter what you do or don't do, no matter how hard you work or how lazily you idle, some things are going to thrive and some things are going to die. And you never know which will do which until it happens.

Before last year, I might have amended that statement with this one: "except zucchini." But then last year, no matter what I did, my zucchini plants (I usually grow two) just continued to ail until they finally wilted and keeled over. I might have been the only zucchini-less vegetable gardener in North America.

This year, so far so good on that front. But oddly, another seemingly unstoppable garden plant is nowhere to be found. I don't even bother with planting dill anymore, because it reseeds itself so rampantly. And this year was no exception. I had no shortage of dill plants a week ago. Yesterday, I was making a salad for dinner, and went out to collect some and looked around, thinking, "Where'd the dill go?"

Then I found it, munched to the ground. Along with all of my beans, kohlrabi, beets, Swiss chard and sugar snap peas. It's either rabbits or chipmunks. Or it's rabbits and chipmunks.

Most years I don't have any problems with furry pests. Oh, the squirrels might show up and take a bite out of a tomato in a drought. OK, sometimes they show up and take a bite—just one bite!—out of every single tomato during a drought. But then I started leaving little dishes of water around in dry weather, and that stopped.

What the garden really teaches is that sometimes hard work is rewarded. And sometimes it's not.

It's a good thing you know better than the garden. When it comes to the people who work for your organizations, you know that hard work must be rewarded. That you have to recognize outstanding effort. Because if you don't, your workers might just go somewhere where the rewards are more forthcoming.

This month's issue is chock-full of ideas about how to make rewards and recognition work for you, along with smart suggestions for business gifts and merchandise that will knock their socks off.

I hope you find something useful in these pages as you cultivate your garden of top performers and as you aim to move the middle upward. In the meantime, I'll be setting up my catch-and-release traps, walling off my beets (my favorite!) and researching other ways to deal with the little furry jerks out there.


Emily Tipping
Editorial Director,