I May Never Have to Buy Another Birthday Card!

I'm on a cleaning up and throwing out binge. This urge comes over me every once in a while--not often enough, some would say--and I get great energy and start going through drawers and closets and chucking stuff out--not quite at random, but something pretty close--and by "out," I of course mean to the proper recycling container in my garage.

Tonight I hit my desk drawer and my stationery drawer. The desk drawer had become of late a shambles of pens, pencils, rulers, staples, paper clips, bookmarks, sticky notes, felt pens, dry erase markers, ear phones, business cards, rolls of Scotch tape, and other miscellany generally useful in a home-office setting. My tactic was to take everything out of the drawer and put it all in a large pile on the floor. I wiped out the drawer. Ah . . . a clean start! Then I sorted. Like items with like items. Finally, I returned the useful things to the drawer in containers of various sizes and shapes, and threw the rest out. One down, many to go.

The second drawer was my stationery drawer. It's the bottom drawer of the tall dresser in my bedroom. There were many boxes of cards--male birthday, female birthday, kid birthday, cheering up, and blank. Unfortunately, in my hurry at various times in the past, I would open several boxes to choose an appropriate card, flip through them, and then hastily shut the drawer, thinking I'd get back to rearrange it when I had more time. Well, tonight was that time.

Being the multitasker that I am, I pulled the drawer out, set myself up on the living room couch, and turned on an episode of Bones. Meanwhile, I took all the cards, writing paper, and envelopes out of the drawer, made little piles around me on the couch and used the hour of watching Bones to rearrange the drawer.

Here's where the title of tonight's thoughts comes in. If I lived to be 150, I don't think I could use up all the cards and writing paper. Maybe you're wondering how it is that I have so much choice right at my fingertips. I think it's a convergence of several things. First off, I have always liked writing to keep in touch with those who have departed--moved away, that is. Second, a Carlton Card shop that used to be open in the local mall went out of business. It was so long ago that I can't even remember when it was, but some time in the last six or so years. Not one to resist such bargains, I do remember scooping up several, if not many, boxes. They were at least 50% off and so lovely! Finally, and most importantly, accumulating these ways and means of keeping in touch seemed to me to be a tangible way of hanging on to . . . something . . . I'm not quite sure I can articulate what. Keeping in touch, that's what it was all about.

Anyway, I have brought order out of chaos. I have a sense of accomplishment. And I may never have to buy another birthday card!

Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary, 11th ed.: The Cutting Edge

As I usually do, I stopped on the way home from work to pick up the mail. I was hoping to see the red tag and key for the package compartment because I knew that it had been several days since my Amazon order had been shipped, but there were only some advertising flyers. Oh well, maybe tomorrow.

When I got home, much to my surprise and delight, I saw that the box from Amazon had been delivered to the door! Bonus day!

In the box was a new Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary, Eleventh Edition.

I did already have a dictionary, a really good one. A Big One. Random House Unabridged Dictionary of the English Language, Second Edition. In fact, it is the exact same one that the local college library has. I have used mine countless times since I bought it shortly after it came out in 1987. Now, it's more than 20 years old.

Admittedly, I was drawn to the Collegiate 11th edition by the shiny silver sticker on the front, which lists some of the new words that are included: acai (haven't we all heard 10 different pronunciations of this one!), staycation, softscape, sudoku, celebutante (hadn't even heard that one!), and others just as intriguing.

Besides, I watched a video (also outdated) that had this advice: if your dictionary is more than ten years old, you're missing out! Language is alive and changing, and hundreds, if not thousands, of words are being added to the English language yearly.

As I mentioned, today's mail also brought some advertising flyers. As I flipped through one, I saw two words I HAD NEVER SEEN BEFORE!!! Great! An opportunity to use my new dictionary. Here's what the ad said: Kitchen Knives: NSF approved German steel blades retain an ultra sharp edge; blades have granton depressions for easy cutting without binding; non-slip santoprene handles.

Actually, there was also that abbreviation, NSF. From my banking days, I recalled that it meant "non-sufficient funds" but I doubted that was the meaning here. I found that meaning on the Internet: National Sanitation Foundation, a non-governmental, not-for-profit organization that develops standards for health and safety.

So that left "granton" and "santoprene" . . . NEITHER OF WHICH were in my new Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary, Eleventh Edition!! Oh, the disappointment.

Yet all is not lost! I had heard of "neoprene" - work gloves are made of this stuff. So the -prene ending indicated some kind of manufactured material made from some chemicals. In fact, "neoprene" was in the dictionary. But santoprene? Well, in this day of the Internet, sure enough, santoprene.com came to my rescue. Santoprene is an Exxon Mobil chemical brand name used for all sorts of things - from chairs that give comfort by conforming to your body to a substance for improving pipe gasket performance. Okay, the knives had some kind of plastic handle. (But will they withstand the rigours of the dishwasher?)

I still had to deal with granton. The dictionary had nothing. Rien de tout. Nada. Back to the Internet. Hmm . . . a granton (often capitalized) edge has thumbprint-shaped depressions in a line about one-quarter to one-half an inch from the sharp edge of the blade on both sides. Apparently, these depressions prevent food (for example, tomatoes or soft cheese)from sticking to the knife.

And thanks to the cooksillustrated.com site, I found the origin of the term "granton edge":

Origins of the Granton Edge

William Grant, founder of the Granton Knives Company in Sheffield, England, patented this innovative edge in 1928. The company still hand-makes granton-edge knives with scallops carved all the way down to the cutting edge (imitators have scallops that stop just above it).

From the picture in the ad, I could see that these knives must be imitations because the grooves did not come all the way to the cutting edge.

A quick trip to Sheffield, England (via the Internet, of course) brought me to the Granton Knives Company Web site at http://www.granton-knives.co.uk/. These people know knives. They've been making knives for 408 years. I also saw that Granton is a registered trade mark, but, alas, like Kleenex and Scotch tape, now seems to have passed into general use for imitations, no less.

All this to say that the moment a dictionary is published, it's out of date (although the Granton edge was patented in 1928, so there's nothing new about it!)

Despite these slight disappointments, I hope to have many happy peregrinations through my new dictionary.

What's this world coming to?

I overheard an amazing snippet of conversation today. Amazing in a bad way, not in a good way.

I was at the local big-box office supply store, waiting in line behind two people who were ahead of me. Behind the counter, a clerk was talking on the phone in an almost-conspiratorial tone: "Can you help me? If I have eighteen inches, how do I turn that into square inches? I already asked Jeffrey, but he didn't know."

I was trying to make sense of her question. She obviously didn't know that something was missing. My mind flashed back to grade . . . five? Length times width equals area. That's square somethings - feet, inches back then - nowadays, centimetres, metres.

As I stood there, the clerk took her attention from the phone call and addressed me, pointing to the next till: "They can help you at Till One." So I darted over to Till One, where the drama continued. A man, perhaps a supervisor, leaned over the counter, took the phone from the clerk who was talking with the Need-to-Know-Square-Inches clerk, and said into the phone: "Length times width. You need two numbers to get square inches. What's the second number?"

None of the foregoing constituted the amazing part of the conversation. After the supervisor left, but before the two clerks at Till One turned to help me, one said to the other: "Square inches? You ever hear of that? Inches I know, but square inches?"

The other clerk, with a slightly superior toss of her head, answered: "Well, I've heard of square feet, but . . . not square inches."

I was amazed. Admittedly, they were young--teens with part-time jobs--but I was sure they had finished grade five. What I was unsure of was whether I should trust her to ring in my purchase.

New Year, New Start

Okay, I'm not even looking at the date of the previous entry. I'm just making a clean start right here, right now. It's a new year. I'm allowed to make a new start.

I felt strange entering this year with no list of resolutions. I didn't make any. It's not because I have a really bad record of actually keeping or fulfilling the resolutions I've made in past years. Ten or a dozen things neatly written and the list posted on the fridge where all who enter my home could see. About a month or so into the year, the list would be superceded by some artwork done by little people who love me. By summer, the list was just a vague memory. That wasn't it. It was just because nobody around me mentioned it. No one asked me what my resolutions were. Nobody brought it up. Nobody told me theirs. No one even said they wanted to lose ten pounds (a perennial favourite). Has making resolutions fallen out of favour?

If I were to make resolutions, I'd want some that would make my life less stressful. I know: every time I come into the house, hang up my keys on the hook that's in the closet. Imagine a life where I would never again have to say, "Has anyone seen my keys?" Ah, that's a certain bliss. I've already made a start on this one. At this moment, I know my keys are hanging right where they should be!

For a second one, I would commit to the One-Year Bible reading plan. I tried the 90-day plan, but I think, for me, slower would be better.

Three . . . would I be able to handle a third one? Maybe . . . choose others first. By this I mean think of others first. It's a variation on the Golden Rule. Do unto others as you would have others do unto you. Speak kindly. Help others.

Well, they won't bring world peace or solve world environmental problems, but in the little circle that is my immediate world, perhaps they will bring a measure of peace to me and those around me.

So welcome to this new year and new way!