Dads, Dirt, and Donuts

This Saturday afternoon we're hosting "Dads, Dirt, and Donuts" (our Spanish translator turned that into "Padres, Plantas, y Pan Dulce" for our Latino families, which is so brilliant it makes my head hurt), a school beautification event that is embarrassingly split down gender lines. But in this case, I'm happy to set political correctness aside because it keeps me from having to dig around in the dirt. Dirt schmirt.

So...the Dads will bring their gardening tools along and plant the area between our Kindergarten playground and the parking lot. And we'll give them some donuts because we're nice like that.

Do you notice something about this event so far? It'll be an excellent community-builder, but as is...it's not raising money! Unable to let a ducat-producing opportunity pass by (if you're keeping up with California budget news, you know that we're still looking at some devastating education cuts), I've added another component. While the Dads do their thing, their parenting partners and kids will paint decorative portrait tiles that will be used to beautify the campus. Our local small business partner in this endeavor is All Fired Up: A Paint Your Own Pottery Place.


All Fired Up is providing all the supplies we need and firing the tiles for an amazingly reasonable price. I've marked the tiles up to turn a little profit of about $500.

I'm liking this type of small fundraiser more and more. They're invariably the kinds of things that the kids love, they require minimum planning, have virtually no overhead, and create a social opportunity for parents. Win, win.

Walk-A-Jog: It's Over

For an overview of this large Spring fundraiser, please click here. To learn how this fundraiser makes the big bucks, please click here.

Though I'm still fumbling around in a little bit of a post Walk-A-Jog stupor, I wanted to check in here to say that the event went off without a hitch. We haven't tallied our final take (the kids did not have to submit their sponsor money until today), but the preliminary numbers look good. I was remarkably close in estimating the money we would earn from our Silent Auction: I thought it would be $2,000, and it was...drum roll...$2,176. A few random notes about the day:

• Out of about 100 volunteers, only 2 failed to show and failed to call me. I think that's extraordinary, really.

• My little Volunteer Check-In desk turned into a general information booth, which makes me think...we should probably have a general information booth.

• I didn't work nearly as hard as the rest of the Committee. My co-horts were busting their busts at the food court, all around the carnival, working the course, and whatnot. I, meanwhile, sat in one spot checking folks in. SCORE! To assuage my guilt, I put in a solid chunk of time during set-up and clean-up.

• A cursory look at a few of the kids' sponsor envelopes reveals some crazy dollar amounts. One first grader earned $1,000! I just averaged the amount in the first 22 envelopes I grabbed, and it was $51. So we're feeling good about that revenue stream.

• We really need to ix-nay the cotton candy machines. Look at this poor volunteer (a kind-hearted, hardworking soul from a local high school). Click on the image to get a better look at his predicament:


Hahahahahahahaha! Seriously, who is going to want to do that next year? I say we double the snow cone machines instead.

• Things still left to do: order banner (showcasing our family and business sponsors), have our post-mortem, tally up the course cards to determine prizewinners, count the ducats.

In a few days I'll have a revenue report for you.

Walk-A-Jog: The End Is Nigh!

For an overview of this large Spring fundraiser, please click here. To learn how this fundraiser makes the big bucks, please click here.

I was clearly over-confident about my ability to both tend to my Walk-A-Jog duties AND blog about them. You'll forgive me, then, for this decidedly un-sexy bullet point post:

• We have more than 250 kids walking the course! If their pledges average out to just $20.00, that will translate into 5,000 sweet, sweet ducats for our school.

• After asking our PTA President to send out an e-mail in which we said, "Um, no volunteers, no jumpies," people actually started stepping up. So much so that I was able to shorten the jumpy shifts by 30 minutes. Lesson: threaten and ye shall receive. I joke!

• I just put the finishing touches on the volunteer schedule. Since I am not an excel-inclined person, this was no mean feat. Now I wonder how many no-shows we'll have.

• Am working on the silent auction bid sheets. Turns out the minimum starting bids will be considerably higher than I thought, which will translate into at least 2,000 sweet, sweet ducats for our school.

• Obviously, I love to say "sweet, sweet ducats." Indulge me.

• I also managed to have a parent volunteer take over the job of setting up a budget cut information table, complete with petition. Since we've heard that petitions and letters don't do much good (the only thing that does is editorials and articles because the Governor's minions google his press clippings), I think I will try to pitch a story to a local paper. Something like, "Budget Cuts Cast Pall Over School Carnival." Whaddaya think?

• The kids do get some swag at this event. There is, of course, the famous Walk-A-Jog t-shirt (this year in lime green and blue!). We used Brown & Bigelow, and were quite happy with the service. We have neon Walk-A-Jog 2008 pencils, which we ordered from Oriental Trading Company, mardi gras beads (left over from a fundraiser we had last year), and some other whatnots.

That's all for now...

WAJ: Volunteer Update

For an overview of this large Spring fundraiser, please click here. To learn how this fundraiser makes the big bucks, please click here.

I've collected all the volunteer sign-up sheets, and I'm pretty happy that 65 parents have stepped up to the Walk-A-Jog volunteer plate. I need to coerce/cajole/beg/ approximately 20 more to do the same. It's so hilarious to look at the sheets because there is one job in particular that nobody wants. A whopping 3—count 'em 3!—masochists have agreed to work as jumpy monitors. I dutifully took this job last year, and it did, truly, feel as if I were being punished by the gods for some long-ago wrongdoing. Basically, you spend an hour yelling yourself hoarse and end your shift staring at the heavens and being thankful that you're still standing. These are some of the things that came out of my mouth while monitoring the 3rd-5th grade jumpy:

"Nope. Nope. Nope! Don't grab him like that! Unacceptable! That's unacceptable!"

"No. You need to go to the back of the line. There's a line! You have to go to the back."

"Stop! Stop! Someone is gonna get hurt! No, no, noooooooooo!"

"One at a time! One at a time! Careful, careful!"

"I see you. You think I can't see you? I see you! Seriously, you need to go to the back of the line."

So, yeah. Wish me luck rounding up the jumpy monitors...