658 Hmmm, smells like apple pie, he said

Maybe it smelled like apple pie, but it looked like sewage from the bottom of a broken garbage disposal. This morning I decided to slice and cook some withered, soft apples. So I put a bit of margarine in the cast iron skillet and sliced the apples into it. But they were dry, so I added a bit if apple cider. Then I got really creative and sprinkled over it some cinnamon and old fashioned oats. It was smelling quite lovely, so I decided to add some walnuts. The whole mess turned charcoal black.

After I threw it out, I decided to turn the kitchen into a chemistry lab. I heated up a bit of apple cider in the cast iron skillet and added walnuts. Turned the liquid black. Then I put some apple cider in a stainless steel saucepan and added walnuts. Turned darker brown, but not black. Then I took that brown mixture and added it to a different, smaller cast iron skillet, one with more baked on black gunk (I like to call it seasoning). No change. Then I moved it to the other cast iron skillet, which probably needs to be reseasoned, and it immediately turned black.

From the kitchen I went to Google, and tried all manner of combinations, finding lots of recipes that use both cider and walnuts, and lots of advice on how to properly season a cast iron skillet (this one is 45 years old). But nothing about turning out a black porridge that looks like I scraped it off the garage floor at the end of winter in Ohio.

So if anyone with more lab experience or more cooking experience knows why an improperly seasoned cast iron skillet turns cider black when walnuts are added, I'd like to know about it. Just don't ever try this unless you've got a lot of extra ingredients so you can start over.

657 Where is Miss Beazley, the latest Barney film

Here is a nice Christmas card from the Bush family, "Where in the White House is Miss Beazley?" featuring their dog Barney, who is looking for Miss Beazley, the new puppy. Lots of fun, including some great shots of the White House decorated for Christmas.



Safe for children and Democrats.

656 New Writer on my List

I've added The Zero Boss to my Writers' Links down at the bottom left. I think he writes mostly about parenting, as well he should--he's 30 years old and has 6 kids! Through him I discovered an e-journal for Ohio State that I'd never heard of--not sure if it has actually had its first issue yet. I found him through Paula, who is a writer discovering other writers (instead of writing), and has just composed a really cute 12 days of Christmas verse about other bloggers.

Update: 3 years later and all three of these links are dead.

655 The Killing of Expectant Mothers

When I heard of another expectant mother being killed and her baby removed from the womb and kidnapped, I immediately thought of the Scott Peterson case. I again wondered why he was the only suspect, since apparently this horribly, brutal type of murder happens more often than we want to remember. Now the Washington Post is running a series:

"Their killings produced only a few headlines, but across the country in the last decade, hundreds of pregnant women and new mothers have been slain. Even as Scott Peterson's trial became a public fascination, little was said about how often is happens, why, and whether it is a fluke or a social syndrome."

"A year-long examination by The Washington Post of death-record data in states across the country documents the killings of 1,367 pregnant women and new mothers since 1990. This is only part of the national toll, because no reliable system is in place to track such cases. . . Homicide accounted for 50 of 247 maternal deaths in Maryland over a six-year period -- more than 20 percent. It had caused more deaths than cardiovascular disorders, embolisms or accidents."

Most of these homicides were committed by boyfriends or husbands unwilling to become fathers or afraid of child support. But not all. When the latest story was reported locally, other killing/kidnapping cases were also reported. Enough for me to question the death penalty for Scott Peterson--again--because the media and police never seemed to look beyond the husband for a suspect.

654 The UCC ad

The other night I saw the UCC ad on a cable station. I think it probably needs to be bumped, or at best, ignored because it depicts other Christians as white, skin-head bouncers. UCC has suffered from declining attendance and membership in recent years, as have most main-line denominations. I don't think it can shore up its sinking ship by throwing water on other Christian groups. Conservative denominations are more integrated and diverse than liberal, not because of lobbying or committees or white papers, but because they preach the Gospel of Salvation through Jesus Christ instead of preaching Good Works gets you to heaven. It always helps if you have a reason for people to darken your doors.

653 Prayer Job Jar December 18

At least now I have an actual jar--my sister gave it to me when I was about 16, and I think it contained bubble-bath. For years, it was a cookie jar, then it just sat around feeling useless for a decade or two. This week's list is a bit full, but that's how prayers are if you actually sit down and note the requests you've heard or received in e-mail or read on a blog. Listing them has the additional benefit of making you feel things are really pretty good at your own address. That could be the primary benefit of intercessory prayer--helps stomp out navel gazing at pity parties.

I'm using up old card stock with our former address, and we include the requests with our table grace. It certainly improves that routine! We'd gotten a bit sluggish with the same words, night after night.

For Chuck, healing; special comfort and peace for his parents and sister whom we've known for so many years.
For Beverly's brother, the same problem, same request.
For Phil, the best possible job for his skills and temperament.
For Keith, a position with tenure.
For Danny, good contracts for his construction firm.
For Robert Jr., a position closer to home so he won't miss the kids.
For Melissa's Dad, wise doctors, skilled testing, and healing.
For new babies of friends and family, God-fearing, loving, mature parents.
For Vicky's family, God's comfort in sorrow.
For our four pastors, a clear, glorious Christmas message.
For Mary, speedy adjustment in her new home.
For Dad (father-in-law) and all in nursing homes, loving caregivers.
For Kate, healing from back surgery.
For Sue and all volunteers in home-bound service, perserverance.
For a mother and daughter, a new way to commumicate.
For Marylyn, skilled doctors and accurate diagnosis, and a quick return home.
For Joe and Julie, blessings on their new house.
For Jean and Bob, safe trip to Florida and lots of company.
For my wonderful husband, his greatest desire.
For all travelers, visitors and guests this season, travel mercies.

652 Faith informed by Reason

Mark Roberts has just finished up an excellent 9 part series answering the Christmas cover stories of Time and Newsweek. Meacham, the writer for Newsweek has no where near the credentials or experience that Roberts has, but the complaint from most believing Christians is that he didn't even attempt to present the other side (often the case with liberals, whether in politics or religion). Roberts takes great care to explain and be fair to the case of the scholars with whom he disagrees. Meacham just pretends that being a liberal Episcopalian makes him some sort of expert on Biblical doctrines and faith. Roberts concludes:

"If I believed as does Marcus Borg and others like him, that vast portions of the gospels, including the Nativity narratives, were made up, I honestly don’t know whether I’d still consider myself a Christian or not. And if I believed that the resurrection was merely a meaningful symbol and not a historical fact, as Borg believes, I expect that my faith would be insipid at best.

On Christmas Eve I will stand up before a packed sanctuary and proclaim the good news of Christmas. And what is this good news? It’s more than the virgin birth. It’s even more than the fact that Jesus is light and Lord. The core truth of Christmas is that God has entered human life in they baby Jesus. By a mysterious process that we won’t ever understand, and that Matthew and Luke don’t even try to explain, God became human in the womb of Mary.

This is the core truth of Christmas. If I didn’t think this really happened, if I thought that the early Christians invented this crazy idea, then I wouldn’t be able to preach the good news on Christmas Eve, or at any other time either. Of course I can’t prove that the Incarnation really happened, but I can show that it’s reasonable to believe it. Ultimately, however, it is a matter of faith, not faith without reason or faith opposed to reason, but faith informed by reason."

651 Tell us how you really feel, Professor

Professor David Mayer of Capital University Law School writes in his blog:

"The so-called “intelligence reform bill” that passed Congress last week is the most ridiculously stupid legislation coming out of Washington, D.C., since the USA PATRIOT Act and the legislation creating the Department of Homeland Security and the Transportation Security Administration. Like those misguided policies hastily enacted in the wake of the 9/11 terrorist attacks, the bill revamping the United States’ intelligence bureaucracy is a classic example of the great fallacy of the regulatory/welfare state: the assumption that social problems can be solved by creating a government agency to deal with them, as if bureaucrats can just wave their wands and do magic."

650 Sleep consultants for babies' parents

More outsourcing. Now there are social workers, PhDs and counselors who hire out as "sleep consultants" for parents of babies who have erratic sleep patterns (saw the story in the Wall Street Journal). Anything from $100-$300 an hour. Probably a lot has to do with the personality and energy level of the baby, but could any two children be more different in temperment and personality than our two babies were (12 months difference in age)? And they always slept through the night with no problem. One bounded, marched, ran and screamed throughout toddlerhood and the other sat and watched, or browsed books and didn't give up naps until kindergarten.

For this you don't need to pay me. Norma's sleep advice for parents of babies and toddlers.

#1. Keep the activity level very low and quiet after supper. If bath time is a battle, do it earlier. Warn babysitters not to play chasing, hiding games with them (the only time we ever had a problem was with sitters who had learned the "wear them out" method).
#2. Make bedtime routines brief and boring. A back pat or two, a short story and a prayer. No rocking. No back rubs. No explanations of how the world came into being or what is under the bed or in the closet. You're not raising a dummy. The more you succumb to their tricks, the trickier they'll become in ways to keep you in their room.
#3. Don't run in to check at every whimper or snuffle.
#4. Don't sleep with your child--her bed or yours. I know it's done in some cultures, but those mommies probably don't have to do a 45 minute commute.
#5. Early to bed. Sure it's difficult if you are working all day--you want that time with them. Ours didn't know life went on after 7 p.m. until they were about 8 years old. Keeps them away from playing outdoors (stimulating) and watching inappropriate TV.

The tough part is that when they are bathed, smell really good, are wearing those cute jammies gramma sent, and are sweet talking you, it is tempting to sit on or near the bed and chat. Keep your goal in mind. Seven or eight hours of sleep (ours usually slept 10, but mileage will vary).

Here's a parent who read all the experts and incorporated the best of all of the advice into one big sleep package. But keep reading, they do continue to struggle--but by December little Ben seems to be managing to sleep in his own room. Also, the blog owner/writer focuses on interesting technology stuff and tries to make it comprehensible for people like me, so also click to Main page.

649 George Lopez represents all the Hispanics?

We watched "Naughty or Nice," a new Christmas movie the other night with George Lopez. The main characters didn't need to be Hispanic, but the husband, wife and daughter in this movie are. George's character, Henry Ramiro, was a "mean" sports talk show host in Chicago. A young man (not Hispanic) was a fan and called in and asked him to be "nice." The kid was sick (CHF), and died, but Henry, the Shock Jock, didn't know that and strikes up a friendship with him (he's now an angel). Henry ruins his career by being "nice" for this kid. I think I dozed off, because I don't remember how it ended. I did recognize a few Chicago landmarks in the movie.



I read in one of the papers today that according to a recent study Latinos are 13% of the population, and Lopez's Friday night comedy show has 14% of the Latino characters on eight of the 2004 primetime series set in LA. His show corners the market on Latinos. It probably also corners the market on loud-mouth, incompetent, rude fathers, and nasty adult sons (his Friday night ABC character). Is he the only working Latino comic?

648 Ophelia, please darken my door

Ophelia, please darken my door.

Was it somethin' that somebody said?
Mama, you know we broke the rules
Was somebody up against the law?
Honey, you know I'd die for you
They got your number Scared and runnin'
But I'm still waitin' for the second comin'
Of Ophelia
Come back home

Last night we watched The Last Waltz, the final concert of The Band in 1976. The film by Martin Scorsese was released in 1979, and re-released in 2002 on DVD, probably to a whole new audience, like me (the Band is our contemporary, but we weren't paying much attention to popular music in 1970s, or today for that matter). Anyway, we thoroughly enjoyed it. Robbie Robertson who says in the filmed interview, "The road--it's an impossible way of life," is still in the business as an arranger and song writer, and at some point the others regrouped and continued to play. Two of the original members have died.

647 Why I became a librarian

A very frustrated librarian is asking his fellow workers at LISNews.com why they became (and remain) librarians. The pay is poor; the institutional budgets are usually strained; and sometimes the people you work with are, well, difficult. There wasn't room to answer him on that discussion board, so I thought I'd post my presentation for "Take a Daughter to Work Day" in 1997. I was extremely surprised when about 25 young people showed up for this discussion--I had no idea young people even picked up on library science as a career choice. When reading this, keep in mind that I'm speaking to elementary and junior high age people.

Take a Daughter to Work Day
Ohio State University Libraries
9:30 Room 122 Main Library, April 24, 1997

Some times choosing a career can be happy thing. In my case, I chose Library Science back in the winter of 1965 because of a terrible tragedy in my life. Everything I thought I was going to do in life had completely changed and I needed a new direction.

I wanted a “real” career to give me a sense of purpose. I already had a teacher’s license, but we lived in a university town overrun with school teachers. What I already had was a degree in Russian, a residence in a city where a very famous library school at a large university was located, a husband who could support me while I attended school, and a history of working in libraries. I was also a reader, which at the time, didn’t seem significant.

Library Science seemed a logical choice for a fresh start. It only took one year and I was sort of impatient. There was a large Slavic department at the university library where I could learn about libraries and foreign languages. I already knew many of the people in that department.

So I had an interview with the Dean, enrolled, took the prerequisites my first semester and then began graduate school and finished in June 1966. The next year we moved to Columbus, Ohio, where I only worked a few months and then stopped for 10 years to raise my children. When I got ready to go back to work, I didn’t remember any Russian, nor was I interested, so I took a temporary job in the agriculture library working with foreign economic material. Then I worked awhile with Spanish language material, and eventually applied for an opening in the veterinary library 9 years after taking that first job in agriculture.

Looking back, everything fits together like a neat puzzle, but it certainly didn’t look that way as it was unfolding. I love the veterinary and agriculture fields. And even though I grew up in a rural area of the United States, when I was your age I certainly had no interest in the insides of animals or their diseases. What I did have, even when I was your age, was a love of reading and a strong curiosity. I was a student who really loved school--I couldn’t wait for September. I also liked art and writing when I was in junior high school. I had lots of pets--even had a horse. I probably also had, without realizing it then, a sense of how things should be ordered. By that I don’t mean I am neat or tidy, but I do see that certain things belong together or have a relationship that other people may not see, or wouldn’t find interesting. I really enjoy finding information for people.

In the 10 years I didn’t work, the library field began to change dramatically. Ohio State became a leader in using the computer for a catalog, so when I returned to work in 1977, everything was different than what I learned in school. And now, also because of the computer, everything is different almost every week, and I am constantly on a very steep learning curve. I use the Internet everyday, but it is not a library. It is a key to someone else’s garage--and much of it is a mess. Librarians are going to help bring some order to that messy storage place.

The other day a veterinarian came to me and told me 350 pigs had died from being exposed to manure gas. She wasn’t able to find any information in print even though she understood how toxic the fumes are from manure pits in large animal holding areas. We sat down together at the computer and I was able to find 4 or 5 really excellent, recent articles for her to look at. While we sat there she told me more about the situation and the seriousness of it--even for people, not just baby pigs.

I love learning, even when it is something as peculiar as this. Everyday in my job there is something new to learn. It is just fun to go to work.

There are some things about my work that I wasn’t told about in school, so I’ll tell you. First of all, some of the extracurricular things you do in school, such as the organizations and clubs, will be as important as your classes. Attending meetings, committees and conferences is part of my job. Being the president or secretary or treasurer of an organization and a willing committee member is important experience, so learn to do that. Frankly, that’s the part that I don’t particularly enjoy, and sometimes I wonder if I’d done more of it in school, would I like it better.

Volunteering in book or library activities can also be useful experience. Perhaps volunteering in your church or school library, or at Friends of the Library Book Sale, or becoming a story teller for children’s groups. Writing book reviews for your school paper would help you learn to be critical of how a book communicates.

I probably don’t have to tell you to learn all you can about computers. If you look around libraries today, you’ll notice them everywhere. You might even create a homepage featuring special book related items.

* * * *
Each participant received: sample journal, 2 library newsletters, library guide, copy of Scientific American article March 1997 “Going Digital.”

646 Solomon is a wise blogger

Solomon, a secular Jewish Bostonian, was raised and lived as a liberal Democrat, then made a change after 9/11. He has a blog called Solomonia, and on Dec. 11 he fantasized what Colin Powell might have said to the Muslim world when accused of favoring Israel.

“In my imaginary, perfect fantasy world, Colin Powell would seize the mic and say the following:

"OK, it's true. We do favor Israel over you, and I'm going to be very frank with you and tell you why.

We favor Israel over you because Israel is a democracy and you are not.

We favor Israel over you because Israel has a free press and you do not.

We favor Israel over you because Israel enshrines freedom of speech and expression and you do not.

We favor Israel over you because Israel practices freedom of religion and you do not.

We favor Israel over you because Israel does not persecute its homosexual citizens and you do.

We favor Israel over you because Israel has Nobel winners in the Sciences and Universities that foreigners consider attending. You have none of either.

We favor Israel over you because Israel's press, government and religious establishment do not incite hatred against us and yours do.

We favor Israel over you because you broadcast and publish statements that remind us of the Holocaust - an event we shed blood ending and built a museum to remember, and we know that Israel is the Jewish State.

We favor Israel over you because you have tried repeatedly to wipe Israel off the map while Israel has not tried to do the same to you.

We favor Israel over you because Israel supports our foreign policy efforts and you oppose them - in Iraq and elsewhere.

We favor Israel over you because Israel respects Women's Rights and you do not.

We favor Israel over you because Israel's economy is larger than all its immediate neighbors combined.

We favor Israel over you because Israel produces more scientific papers per capita than any other nation by a large margin, has one of the highest per capita rates of patents filed, as well as the highest per-capita level of citizens with university degrees. You are all far, far behind.

We favor Israel over you because relative to its population, Israel is the largest immigrant-absorbing nation on earth - just like us...and unlike you.

I could go on, and on, and on, and on with all the reasons why it's natural and beneficial and obvious that we would be closer to Israel than to you, but I need to give the mic back at some point.

We welcome you to join us. My hand is out.

But it is up to you. Not us."
In my dreams.”

Solomon is a blogger to watch.

645 Skipping the middle man

This year, I'm going to eat the chocolate chips right out of the bag--not bother with mixing dough and baking cookies. Have you seen or tried the new chocolate swirls that Nestle Tollhouse has developed? Cute and tastey. However, the package is 10 oz. not 12 oz., so don't be fooled by pricing or calorie counts.


Nestle swirled chips

Also, instead of buying "lite" salad dressing at a higher price than regular, I'm just adding my own water and shaking--it is cheaper that way.

644 Good News for your brain

Multi-tasking isn't good for you! Finally, I've seen in print what I've experienced.

". . .a growing number of studies show that trying to juggle jobs rather than completing them sequentially can take longer overall and leave multitaskers with a reduced ability to perform each task. In addition, the stress associated with multitasking may contribute to short-term memory difficulties. The combination results in inefficiency, sloppy thinking and mistakes--not to mention the possible dangers of divided attention . . ." p. 63 "The limits of multitasking," Scientific American Mind, Premier Issue, 2004.

So take that cell phone off your head, snuff out the cigarette, stop eating, take a deep breath and drive like a sane person.

643 Christmas Party Night

Snow fell today--quite vigorously in the morning--so we have a light dusting on the ground. The neighbor's colored lights are festive, about 20 feet from my office window. Tonight is the art league's Christmas dinner at Ciao Restaurant. It's a group my husband help to establish about 35 years ago. We're all aging, so a restaurant was the choice rather than a pot-luck dinner as in years past. We no longer have workshops or demonstrations. Pay your dues and get in a show.


Window scene

Friday night we had a dinner party here for our Visual Arts Ministry. Just a comfortable size for our dining room, and everyone stayed until almost 11 p.m. It wasn't too many years ago it seems we had eight or ten parties and gatherings to fit in. Church groups, art groups, concerts, professional groups, parties at homes. Next week-end we'll drive to Indiana for the family Christmas--there are always little ones and babies still starry eyed with excitement. My sister-in-law now has three great-grandbabies, so we shouldn't run out of children for awhile.

642 Who has more fun than a librarian?

If you "Google" your own name, it is hard to tell what might come up and where. Recently I found a short review of a book that I think I may have written in the 90s for a veterinary medicine library newsletter--can no longer remember. But today I found it on a Target book sale site. It is possible that I sent a copy of the review to the author and she decided to use it in marketing. I'm credited for it--but I didn't write it for the purpose of selling books through Target, but for librarians in selecting titles for special collections. It even reads as though I'm writing for other librarians, because only a librarian would know how much fun it is to be one--a well kept secret, and I also tongue-in-cheek poke a little fun at the general public's view of us as sensibly shod shushers.


Complete Guide to Horse Careers

"Does anyone have more fun than a librarian? First we get to spend money (not our own) on books; then we get to look at them while they still smell good and are clean; then we get to admire and benefit from all the hard work that went into making a product that delivers (most of the time). Such is the book, "The Complete Guide To Horse Careers" by Sue Reynolds who, after she steps out of the saddle, surely must put on her practical sensible shoes and glasses and step behind a reference desk, because this lady knows how to put information together . (The cover says she has a masters degree in education and is a reading specialist who is a horse enthusiast and freelance writer---close enough.) Although she introduces the Internet on page 2, every chapter has a resource list of associations, people, e-mail addresses, articles, books, and websites. She keeps the reader interested with check-lists, line drawings, photos, boxes of tips from experts in the field, career profiles and economic forecasts."

641 The Good-bye Letter

We were surprised to see our former home for sale again--50% more than we sold it for just three years ago. We don't know why they are selling--I hope it is for happy reasons like a new job, and not for something unhappy like debt or divorce. I couldn't resist going on line at the Realtor's site and snooping through the rooms. Oh my--the pink stripe and floral wallpaper is still in my daughter's bedroom. That junior high age boy must not be happy about that even with the red football bed spread. The new kitchen is wow-worthy, but too bad they got rid of the formal dining room to do it. In blog 640 I wrote about Christmas letters. The Christmas of 2001, I wrote a letter about the house, called "Good-bye Old Friend," which I repeat here.

Yes, I know. We were going to be faithful to the end. But we can’t say a relationship of 34 years was exactly a failure, now, can we? I saw you the first time in January 1968--it seems like it was New Year’s Day, but who would have an “open house by owner” on a holiday? Anyway, it was in a cold January snow storm. We must have been the first people through, and then we went home to our apartment on Farleigh Road to discuss it. We were both so excited. Even then, we knew if we both liked something we should grab it because we almost never were able to compromise--one or the other had to give in.

You were more fabulous than we had ever expected--3 bedrooms, a bath and a half, a kitchen with eating space, dining room, big living room with fireplace, and a cute little den with a walk-out deck as its roof. Your redwood siding was painted white and big black shutters guarded every window. Heavy wood storm windows hung on every window. Just about everything inside was white too except the dining room which had wild blue and green and white flowers. Not as white as it looked, however. They had freshened the paint only up to their furniture--huge antiques.

In spite of the weather, we could see that the street was gorgeous with huge 30 year old trees. Even without leaves, the street announced it would be lush in the summer. There was a creek at the end of the street and stately, well designed, more expensive homes all around. You were about my age--28--and that seemed an “old” house, yet newer than the ones we’d owned on White Street and Charles Street in Champaign, Illinois. I wasn’t sure about a standing seam metal roof, but my husband said they were wonderful, and shouldn’t an architect know? He didn’t notice that one had to walk through the laundry room and bathroom to get to the den. “I can’t believe that,” he said when we were back at the apartment and I was pointing out some minor flaws. “I surely would’ve noticed that.” But I was right, and it was our love at first sight that blinded us to your shortcomings (fixable as we learned).

The owners had just replaced the furnace in December. We knew that the only reason you were affordable was the lack of a basement--but our previous homes’ basements weren’t too great. White Street had a partial dirt floor--and a slab seemed an improvement over that! We made an offer and it was accepted--the sellers even had to pay us a little rent because we wanted it before they were ready to go.

You see, we were in a hurry because of the baby. A friend (who just died this year) came by to baby sit on Farleigh while we went to the closing. You seemed to like the baby--she almost never cried in the bright southeast bedroom where we put her green crib and dresser and the extra double bed. In fact, we used to wake her up when people came to visit because she slept about 20 out of 24 hours. Then in a year, February 1969, there was another baby for the northeast bedroom, and the house was never quiet again for 18 years.

Yes, we did almost split up a few times, like in 1977 and 1987 and 1994. I went through a stage of lusting after newer homes and more conservative school districts, and once we came close to buying a new two-story in Dublin. Our daughter's social life in fourth grade wasn’t the greatest, and our son needed a different kind of school. But we decided to stay. Did you know I used to sneak out to open houses regularly on Sundays? Once the kids were in high school, it was really too late to move. Instead, we remodeled the kitchen in 1978 and the bathrooms in 1980 and added a family room. That stopped the itchy foot for awhile.

But in 1986 the family split up. Like me, you may have felt abandoned by the children. I had empty nest syndrome big time, so I thought I’d move away--if you can‘t beat ‘em, join ‘em. I looked through the real estate ads, even some places in the country. I wanted something different; something with no memories; something NOT home. Then in 1988 we bought our cottage on Lake Erie and were busy fixing it up and falling in love. Perhaps you felt doubly abandoned--all we could talk about was our cutesy, cutesy new love.

After the big blow-out 1993 wedding parties here on your new brick patio and all freshened with new paint and wall paper and wonderful new big closets, you were probably surprised to hear me once again talk of moving in 1994--and to a condo no less. We covered you up with vinyl siding, preserving the trim for authenticity. The art studio added in the early 70s became temporarily an office when my husband left the down town firm in 1994.

In 1995 we had just converted the family room built in ’79 to a big wonderful office, and probably you thought we were set until his retirement. He dutifully went over to Mill Run to look at the new builds and promptly noted that he didn’t want to live in the kitchen (called a great room in modern real estate speak). We continued to look off and on, but usually couldn’t get any agents to take us seriously.

After I retired in 2000, I decided you were just the perfect house, after all. Something I hadn’t said the previous 33 years. You had location, location, location, and for retirees, it turns out that is pretty good stuff for people who don’t enjoy spending their waking hours behind the wheel of a car. For two years our names had been on a Lane Woods condo, a mile from here, in the site of a former gravel pit, now hoity-toity with new expensive houses. When it came time to sign the dotted line, I couldn’t--price seemed about $100,000 more than when we first signed up. So I refurbished the master bath in 2001.

But one day last summer, almost a fluke, we saw a condo on a beautiful lot, where they still put the mail through the door slot and it is still in our community. We made an offer and then put you up for sale. Now a new young family with three children are as thrilled as we were 34 years ago. You probably won’t even miss us in a heart beat. We had a great final Christmas with the kids here opening presents and laughing and teasing like old times.


Last Christmas in the House

Please be good and don’t leak or creak. It’s OK for your metal roof to sing during rain storms or when the squirrels throw acorns, however. Most people aren’t used to 32 windows, so watch out and don’t blind anyone with the occasional Ohio sun. There will be lots of children playing in the yard now, so please hang on to the grass for awhile, or until the new owner can work his magic. (I hear he is a specialist in weeds, which might be good.)

Always know we love you and will have fond memories.
Love, Norma

640 Don't let the Grinch steal your Christmas letter

It is that time of year when pundits, pastors and PollyAnnas remind us to save money, time and paper and not send the ubiquitous Christmas letter. Who are they to diminish our fun? We've already had 2 or 3 wonderful letters (so, they not only HAVE grandchildren, but they speak French or Italian) and two family photos of weddings/reunions. I love this stuff. The letter today we got from Dave and Gina brought back some wonderful memories of when we lived together in 1963. (They lived in the upstairs apartment and we lived downstairs.) And after 50 years of a buzz it looks like Dave has let his hair grow out and he has curls! Tim, a widower, is planning to move out of his home and just start travelling across the country in an RV. I look forward to hearing the rest of the accounts of 2004 and the plans for 2005. With blogging, I have no more secrets to tell about my life, but I'll probably put a letter together if my husband can get one of his paintings on to a card. I'm not sure some of my cousins twice removed have internet access.

639 Title Inflation and the Big Cheese

Some companies inflate titles instead of paychecks. If they can't or won't give a salary increase, they assign a new title to the old job. Publishers predictably pile on plump pro-bono promotions. Look at the list of "editors" for Wired Magazine.

Editor in Chief
Executive editor
Managing editor
Deputy editor
Assistant managing editor
Senior editors (7)
Products editor
Senior associate editor
Assistant editors (2)
Copy editors
Research editor
Assistant research editors (3)
Editorial assistant
Assistant to the Editor in Chief
Editorial interns (4)
Editorial projects director
Editor at large
Contributing editors (31)
Photo editor
Deputy photo editor
Founding editor
Editorial Director

The marketing side of the business is almost as bad as the editorial side.

Advertising director
West Coast advertising director
Travel and Spirits director
LA director
Detroit director
Southeast director
Executive director, Marketing Services
Creative services director
Promotion director
Sales development director
Strategic marketing director
Marketing research director
Marketing design director
Associate marketing design director
Advertising services director

Once you move to the Publisher listing (Conde Nast Publication, Advance Magazine Group), everyone (21 people) on the masthead is either a President or Vice President except for the Chairman. The Chairman stands alone. Like the cheese. Big cheese.