It was truly a good holiday. Christmas Eve Mass was wonderful, there were great times and conversations with kids and friends, everyone gave thoughtful and welcome gifts, and which were joyfully received. However, it offered a new opportunity to me to Learn Something the Hard Way.


I like to cook, but I haven't done much in the way of baking since my bread-baking days gave way to "got a lot of toddlers" days. But this year brought me a brand new kitchen and renewed ambition to bake Christmas cookies and other goodies. The final installment was a batch of Baklava, a wonderfully rich middle-eastern pastry that my aunt taught me to make. As my daughter and I were tenderly placing and buttering fragile layers of phyllo dough, I explained to her that I preferred cooking to baking because I'm a "throw together whatever tastes good" cook, a technique that doesn't work in baking because everything has to be precise. I should have listened to myself more closely.

After dough layers are assembled over and under a delicious filling of ground walnuts and flavorings, you make a sugar syrup with lemon to pour over everything after baking. I had listened attentively to dear Aunt Jenny who had emphasized that it had to become a thick syrup, not at all watery. "Yes, Aunt Jenny," I said to myself as I boiled and boiled; I hadn't, however,  paid enough attention to that important guideline: Be Precise. Somehow along the way, I had missed the instruction that the lemon juice should be added to the syrup after boiling, not before. Did it matter? Yes.

Those of you who listened in Chemistry class may be able to explain the whys and wherefores, but, as I later discovered, the abortive syrup finally 'thickened'' well after it had reached the "let's make it rock hard" stage of candy-making. Though I was mildly surprised to observe that I was pouring deep-caramel-colored syrup over those perfectly-browned diamond shapes of Baklava, it was indeed startling to have the whole pan of stuff harden within minutes to approximately the consistency of granite. 

I chiseled it apart and served with trepidation. My family was courteous. As they dug unchewable nuggets from their teeth, they praised the flavor and the flakiness of the (lower levels of) pastry, but they were just being kind.

So today, I am performing surgery. I am incising and discarding the awful bits, gathering the goodies that lie below, and gathering the remnants. Perhaps they'll be good in a bowl with milk? They're certainly tasty when grabbed surreptitiously on the run.

I generally refrain from writing about political matters. This isn't due to a lack of observations or opinion, but because he tendency of political conversation these days is to ignore nuance and leap directly for the jugular. I don't enjoy firefights and do my best to avoid them (though I sometimes yield to the temptation to make a comment that I think wittily insightful but others may think snarky). I believe that respect and good will are too valuable to sacrifice on the altar of the scoring of rhetorical points. However, I'm breaking with past practice because I am concerned about the President of the United States.

I am not a particular fan of Mr. Obama. Before he was elected, I was concerned that his initiatives would cause harm, his lack of foreign policy experience would jeopardize us internationally, his lack of political experience and a solid political network would make him insular and an ineffective collaborator with Congress, and his lack of real-world business experience would hinder his judgment. Events since his election have reinforced my opinion.

But, unlike the left's stereotypical expectation of his opponents, I don't want President Obama to be an utter failure. True, I'd prefer he not achieve much of what he strives for, but it's in my interest and the interest of all Americans that he be a good steward of American interests abroad and facilitate good government at home. It would be a serious problem if the President were to become completely ineffective. So the lack of dignity, resilience, emotional intelligence, and even political acumen that the President has demonstrated over the last several months are reasons for concern.

In the December 9 Wall Street Journal, Peggy Noonan's observations on the post-tax-agreement press conference are perceptive.

President Obama was supposed to be announcing an important compromise, as he put it, on tax policy. Normally a president, having agreed with the opposition on something big, would go through certain expected motions. He would laud the specific virtues of the plan, show graciousness toward the negotiators on the other side—graciousness implies that you won—and refer respectfully to potential critics as people who'll surely come around once they are fully exposed to the deep merits of the plan.

Instead Mr. Obama said, essentially, that he hates the deal he just agreed to, hates the people he made the deal with, and hates even more the people who'll criticize it. His statement was startling in the breadth of its animosity.

There's no strategic advantage to being petulant, yet the President displayed petulance. There is no upside to admitting you were forced into an agreement you dislike, yet Mr. Obama not only admitted it, he trumpeted it. Although he has appeared to shoot from the hip more since it became clear the November setbacks were inevitable, it's not the first time his emotions have led to imprudent actions. At various times, he has insulted his opposition, offended allies, and dissed his friends. Not only are these not the actions of an adept politician, they are startlingly unprofessional at any level.

From the administration's beginning, the White House and Congressional leadership chose to set its own path rather than collaborate with others with divergent views. That was a luxury offered by a filibuster-proof majority. It may not have been wise (chickens do come home to roost), but it was possible. It appears, however, that it may not have been so much a thoughtful decision as a temperamental one -- and that temperament the one at the top. It's hard to believe that the President's advisers suggested, for instance, that he go out there in front of the press corps and explain that the decision he has just brokered is bad for the country. It must be that President Obama himself made that call. So we are left to wonder, what can be the cause of the President so energetically getting in his own way?

This goes far beyond wondering how big the landslide against him might be in 2012. This is the leader of the United States of America acting imprudently and against even his own best interests, not to mention the interests of the country which he is sworn to uphold and defend. I am honestly concerned. It's important for all of us that President Obama bring to his office all the strengths and talents he has at his disposal. It would be wise for him to gather around himself wise counsel who could not only help him understand and appreciate diverse points of view, but who might assist him in leaning into his strengths, managing his weaknesses, and increasing his resilience. And if he does so, I hope he can bring himself to listen to them.

Even Olympic champions need a coach, Mr. Obama. We don't begrudge you anything you can use in the pursuit of excellence. Just do it.

Caveat: these are not original with me. The original post is here.

1. Clean off the floor, picking up anything that weighs less than 50 lbs and moving it to the floor of the nearest closet. Artfully cover the pile in the closet with fabric. Vacuum only the visible areas.
   
2. Grab a few empty boxes from the laundry room where you keep them for just such an occasion, and sweep all flat surface clutter into them. No need to sort, simply pile it all in the boxes. Seal these boxes with tape, label them “Old Underwear To Donate”, and place them in the attic where you can easily find them when you realize your checkbook is in one of them. I’ve taken to writing the date on these boxes, since I sometimes never get back to them again til tax time.
   
3. Don’t empty the dishwasher, that’s a waste of time. Instead, remove only the biggest items and then cram whatever dishes are in the sink in with the clean dishes, and run it again. The overcrowding won’t matter because half those dishes are clean.
   
4. Hide the ginormous pile of clean laundry that you’ve neglected to deal with for several weeks in your daughter’s closet, only keeping out and putting away your kid’s sports uniforms and your spouse’s favorite clothes that they’ll look for in the next day or two. Bribe daughter with Starbucks if she’ll keep that door closed for the day. Threaten her with death if she doesn’t.
5. Pour a lemon smelling cleaner in all sink drains and toilets- but don’t flush. Out of lemon cleaner? Try Sprite, works just as well.
   
6. Dampen a towel for each person who’s in cahoots with you, and add a drop of lemon oil to each one. Run around the main living areas, wiping flat surfaces- but only those that show. Use this opportunity to also tuck random items into the couch cushions- like the Sharpie markers that perpetually live on the side table, the turkey baster one of the kids was using to make fart noises, and the stapler that you’ve been looking for forever.
   
7. Throw all wayward shoes, cleats and slippers out on the back porch, in the corner where you can’t see them from inside.
   
8. And lastbutnotleast, all of your activity and running and flailing will have created a wind that has blown all the dog hair under the dining room table and into the corners of the kitchen. Instead of sweeping, take an old wet dishtowel and wipe up the hairs that have conveniently collected there. Throw this towel away, because by the time you get around to washing it, you’ll have forgotten how it became covered in hair and dirt, and you won’t want to touch it, so you’ll throw it away.

Of course, if you feel this is all too much work, you can just smear your guests' glasses with Vaseline when they come in so they can't really see anything.

One of the things I enjoy about my kids is the somewhat unusual sense of humor we all share. I'm going to let you have a peek, but first some backstory.  Last summer my son's family joined us at our cottage for several days. Son-meister brought his bike and did some riding -- at least until he encountered a bear cub with its mother. Although a mild-mannered minister, he realized that it was very likely that Mama Bear wouldn't realize this and would consider him a threat, to the detriment of his health (and his bike). Thankfully, after staring carefully at one another for a time, everyone decided to go peacefully home. General thanksgiving and discussion of bear-encounter strategies were one of the dinner table topics that evening.

So, when I came across this article, I sent it to my son via Facebook:




I'm waiting for his response.

If it weren't for conversations on Facebook, I wouldn't have these witty and refreshing exchanges with my children.

My father-in-law died suddenly during the early morning hours of January 21 of this year. In preparation for his memorial service, his children gathered some memories of him, and I was inspired to write down some of my own.

Elizabeth: "Emergency Bulletin: Even on the internet, 'yr' does not mean 'your' or 'you're' in English. Thank you."

Theresa: "I totally agree with yr Emergency Bulletin. It's true "Yr" means neither something that belongs to You, or implying something about You as a person or what You as a person is about to do. Yr means 'yer.'

"Frinstance: 'Yer being a short-sighted prescriptivist, oh Lizzie' can be shortened to, 'Yr being a short-sighted prescriptivist, oh Lizzie.' For further examples of 'Yer' to 'Yr' conversions, see: 'Yer a scallywag!' or 'You forgot yer bag' or 'Yer mother was a hamster and yer father smelt of elderberries!'"

1. Before you put the cat out, check to see whether you've got the one whose front claws are intact.


2. Don't wait until your carpets and upholstery are irretrievably soiled before getting them cleaned.
   


3. Roll your windows up, no matter how hot it is.


4. Those shoes you're sure are broken in -- aren't.


5. If you set the timer for something in the oven, stay within earshot of the timer.


6. Time passes far more slowly for the elderly than it does for the young or middle-aged. If you say you'll call, they'll start anticipating it later that evening.


7. Traffic signals are engineered to detect drivers who are late for work and teach them a gentle lesson.


8. It is never worth going to the store on the Friday after Thanksgiving. 


9. It is never worth putting off Christmas shopping until December 23.


10. When you're deciding what to do in an urgent situation, don't forget to ask yourself the question: "What's the worst thing that can happen if I do nothing right now?"
    
    

You have just received the Amish virus. Because we don’t have any computers or programming experience, this virus works on the honor system. Please manually forward this virus to everyone on your mailing list and then delete all the files from your hard drive.

Thank you for your cooperation.

The Amish Computer Department

Thank you very much, Julie

Yes, it certainly is easier to strike up a conversation with someone in virtual space, especially if you've got yourself a hot-shot avatar.

However, in the real world, chances are you may need to equip yourself with more than wit and like-a-flash typing speed to successfully begin to get to know that interesting person.



From the imaginative Indexed you keep hearing about from me.

From FailBlog. Caution: most of site deserves a Vulgarity Alert.

Found on My[confined]Space

More remarkable graphics at Share Some Candy.

You Are a Whiteboard

You are a dreamer, a visionary, and a straight up idea person. You are very creative. Even if the things you think up are a bit wacky, they often are brilliant. You are an adept problem solver. You are always tossing around dozens of ideas. You would make a good artist, designer, or architect. You do best when work feels like play.

You'll notice a new blog, Coffee Klatch, in the sidebar. It makes me smile. Here's a sampling.

Dear Abby,

I am facing a very serious problem. You see, I am a Vietnam-era deserter from the U. S. Marines, and I have a cousin who works for Microsoft. My mother peddles Nazi literature to Girl Scouts and my father (a former dentist) is in jail for 30 years for molesting most of his patients while they were under anesthesia.

The sole supports of our large family, including myself and my $500-a-week heroin habit, are my uncle (master pick-pocket Benny “The Fingers”), my 70-year-old aunt Hester (a shoplifter), and my two kid sisters, who are well-known streetwalkers.

My problem is this: I have just gotten engaged to the most beautiful, sweetest girl in the world. She is just sweet sixteen, and we are going to marry as soon as she can escape from reform school.

To support ourselves, we are going to move to Mexico and start a fake Aztec souvenir factory staffed by child labor. We look forward to bringing our kids into the family business.

But I am worried that my family will not make a good impression on hers. In your opinion, Should I, or shouldn’t I, tell her about my cousin who works for Microsoft?

I tend to dislike the "reaction-on-the-street" interviews that follow hard on the heels of momentous (or not so momentous) current events. I don't care, frankly, what passers-by feel about the passing of Michael Jackson or the fact that it was a cooler-than-usual summer. (Okay, lay it on me, is this a personal failing? Honestly, how do you feel about it?)

The Onion, as usual, puts a whole new twist on it.

Tweeted from the 9/12 Tea Party rally in Washington, D.C. by Brian.

Step 1. Buy a productivity book. Any productivity book will do. (The one I use is Geting Things Done.) If that book doesn't particularly appeal to you, don't worry. Find one that you've heard people speak well of.

Step 2. Look carefully at the productivity book. Speak firmly to yourself, saying, “If I don’t get X done, I’m going to have to read that productivity book.” ...

Thanks to Julie who discovered this wonderful tip on Matt Cutts' blog.

Here are some things worth knowing when you have your own place:

1. If you have an old fashioned refrigerator that needs to be defrosted, allow a good deal more than an hour for the job, and do not do it on a 95-degree day or you'll lose your food in the process. Pans of boiling water in the freezer make the crud thaw faster. Of course, you'll clean the fridge while you're at it. Then, when you're done with the whole thankless, difficult job, peel the Sears appliance ad from the floor where you put it to sop up the pools of water and run right out to buy a new refrigerator.
   
   
2. If you cut your family members' hair, do it in the garage, or else you'll be finding little hair snippets on the bottoms of your feet for weeks.
   
   
3. You can plant shrubs and perennials in the fall as well as in the spring, and they'll be cheaper. Bulbs have to be planted in the fall. If you don't get around to planting them before the ground freezes, you can try refrigerating the bulbs to fool them into thinking they've spent the winter in the ground, and then sneak them in the first time the ground softens -- maybe during the January thaw, if you get lucky that year. (In Duluth, just throw the bulbs out and try again next year. The pain of fruitless waiting for a January thaw may cause you to whimper uncontrollably.)
   
   If you live south of the Mason-Dixon line, you can buy special bulbs that don't have to be overwintered, but they're wimpy. Enjoy your azaleas and don't whine.
   
   
4. It's a good idea to develop a collection of recipes that are easy but look like they were hard. Cream puffs are a good example. And they freeze beautifully.
   
   Oh, and don't bother to cook the lasagna noodles before you assemble the ingredients. Use a little extra sauce on each layer and when you're done, drizzle 1/2 - 1 cup of water around the edges. Cover tightly with foil before you bake, and the noodles will steam perfectly.
   
   
5. If you are unlucky enough to encounter a fruit-fly infestation, here's how to get rid of them.
   
   Take the end of the bottle of wine that you would just throw out anyway and pour it into a bowl. Mix a little sugar in for good measure. Then mix in several drops of diswashing liquid and leave it on your counter or in whatever room they're swarming. The sweetness of the wine will attract them and they'll try to land on the surface. Thanks to the soap, the surface tension will break and they'll sink to the bottom where the alcohol will kill them or they'll drown. I don't know which. What do you care? It works.
   
   Then throw out the apple core behind the sofa or the bananas you forgot about on top of the fridge that caused the problem in the first place.

See? Mama comes in handy from time to time. Don't forget to wear your sweater.

Over the years, I've learned some things. Some, I've learned the hard way. Some, fortunately, I've picked up because someone showed me, told me how to do it, or gave me good advice.

I now have grown children, children-in-law and the beginnings of a clan of grandchildren. Any of you in a similar position know the risk of being too pushy with advice and counsel. I definitely do not want conversations with me to be the occasion of eye-rolling on the other end of the phone line.

In what I anticipate may be a series of "let me 'splain it to you" posts, I will get out of my system some of the things I've learned that I hope will be of some assistance to someone out there somewhere. I suppose I've picked up some of these tidbits independently, but most of the useful things I know have been learned from somebody else. So let me pay that favor forward.

* * * * *

I'll start you off gently.

Imagine that you have a friend or colleague who keeps asking you random questions, expecting you to magically know the answers. What do you do?

For the answer, click here.