Be it digital or mechanical, the humble kitchen timer is one of my favorite tools. Of course it helps me prepare meals without burning them (simmering rice or roasting a chicken doesn’t mix well with absentmindedness). But in addition to timing boiling pasta or baking pies, I also use a timer in several other useful ways.

I use it to:

Keep myself from getting sucked into the black hole of email.

Practice sketching.

Complete an Imaginary Trip to the Beach assignment.

Start a project I really don’t want to do. I tell myself I’ll only do the Unpleasant Task for 15 minutes and then I can quit. Most times, I will continue on after the timer goes off, and occasionally find that the U.T. didn’t even take the full 15 minutes!

Focus on a chore, like dusting for example, that I take too much time doing because I’m easily distractible. (“This magazine doesn’t belong here. Let me move it to the magazine holder in the family room. Oh look, there’s that bill I need to file in the office. While I’m in here, I think I’ll check my email…” See the problem?)

And, less happily, I’ll even sometimes use the timer while I’m taking a break during the day to read or do some other fun thing. The ringing of the timer reminds me that it’s time to go back to work.

So in a world full of iPhones and BlackBerries, here I sit with my kitchen timer. Never mind...whatever tool does the job.

What about you?  Do you have any low-tech tools you can't live without?  Do share!

I usually read at least three books at one time—fiction, non-fiction, self-help, humor, spirituality…I’ve got a book for every mood. I read books about books (one of my favorites was aptly titled Leave Me Alone I’m Reading) and keep a log of the books I read each year. Once, I made a New Year’s resolution to read less. When I pack for a vacation, I choose what books to take as carefully as I choose my clothing.

I confess that I feed my husband’s addiction as well. Aside from the pleasure I know reading gives him, if he doesn’t have something good to read, then I won’t be able to…he’ll need conversation or meals or (ahem) “marital attention” when I want to read. (Does that make me a pusher?)

I like to blame my mother for my dilemma. I inherited my love of reading from her, but she may have just the slightest addiction problem herself. (She once got a traffic ticket for reading while sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic. She had opened a book on the seat beside her, snatching sentences while the traffic remained at a standstill. The motorcycle cop who ticketed her did not approve.)

Books started out as my innocent companions—my solace in a rather lonely childhood, their characters my friends and comforters. Coming home to an empty house after school wasn’t quite so bad when I could roam the fields and woods of Prince Edward Island with Anne of Green Gables or feel the wind on my face as Alec raced with the Black Stallion. Books taught me about everything from puberty to how to bake brownies. My desire to travel was first awakened by reading James Herriot’s Yorkshire.

Books have enriched my life more than I can say—but somehow, I crossed the line from relaxing hobby to addiction. For years, I kidded myself, denying I had a problem—until we recently remodeled our bedroom closet and my addiction became something I could no longer ignore. On a free-standing bookcase in our closet, I had stored my stash of purchased-but-not-yet-read books. When I moved them to make room for the new closet system, I found I had 52 unread books. That’s a whole year’s worth if I manage to read one a week!

So now I’m in rehab. I can’t buy any more books and I must curtail my library habit until I read some of the ones I actually own. I’ve sifted through the books in the closet and made the hard decision to get rid of a few. As they’ve lingered in the stack, I’ve realized that I’m just not going to read some of them. (Henry James’ The Golden Bowl comes to mind. I’ve begun that book three times and haven’t been able to make it out of the first chapter.)

It’s been several months since I confronted my problem. I haven’t been completely successful in reining in my book habit, but the unread books in my closet now number only 28. Hey, it’s a start.

• The first Olympic Games can be traced back to 776 B.C.
• The first Olympic “Games” were running, long jump, shot put, javelin, boxing, pankration (a primitive form of martial art, combining wrestling and boxing), horse races and chariot races.
• Any free, male Greek citizen could participate, regardless of social position.
• The games were dedicated to Zeus and women were not allowed to participate or to watch the games, except for the priestess of Demeter who was expected to attend. Women were first allowed to participate in 1900, at the second modern Olympic Games.
• Winter games were first held in 1924, and took place in the same year as the summer games but in a different city. In 1994, the winter and summer games were separated, and began to be held two years apart.
• The procession of athletes in the opening ceremonies is always led by the Greek team. All other teams follow, in alphabetical order in the language of the hosting country, except for the hosting country’s team, which is always the last to enter.
• The flame originated with the ancient Olympics, where it burned throughout the Games. It symbolized the death and rebirth of Greek heroes. Today, a new flame is kindled for each Olympics at Olympia, Greece, site of the original Games, by using a parabolic mirror to focus the rays of the sun.

Things have changed a great deal on the Olympic scene since the first Olympians stripped naked and ran a footrace in a dirt stadium. Now we have high-tech this and private that—not to mention athletes who are clothed. But the current athletes still compete to the best of their ability, still inspire their home cities and countries and still try to live up to the Olympic motto, “Swifter, higher, stronger.”

I was able to identify tufted titmice, a cardinal and two doves. After scrutinizing the doves with the binoculars, I realized they are mourning doves, not common ground doves as I had thought. I also saw two other little birds flitting through the yard, and while I’m not sure what they were (those buggers were quick), I think one was a Carolina wren and one was a yellow-throated warbler, both of which I’ve seen in our yard before. Other birds I saw yesterday while on a walk and not “officially counting”: vultures (circling overhead, so not sure which type), some white ibis, and what I think was a common loon. (I need a better bird book…)

I also learned, by flipping through that bird book while I was waiting for more action around the birdfeeder, that the little waterfowl I see in our retention pond are hooded mergansers. I am definitely a bird novice, and I’d never heard of these birds before! It’s so much fun to learn new things about the creatures that share my environment.

It’s not too late! You can still participate in the bird count today. (That’s right: go ahead, drop everything and go out and count birds!) Deadline for submitting your observations is March 1. (You can enter them online at http://gbbc.birdsource.org/gbbcApps/input. Those who submit reports will be eligible for bird-related prizes.)

Does your to-do list look like this?

• Workout
• Clean out guest room closet
• Return library books
• Take dog to vet
• Laundry
• Clean oven

That’s what mine often looks like. Did you notice anything particularly fun on that list? Me either.

My husband and I recently marked our 22nd anniversary. We usually plan a weekend getaway to celebrate, but have we made any hotel reservations? No. My father-in-law gave us a gift certificate to an excellent local restaurant—have we made reservations there? No.

What is wrong with us? Sure, we’re busy, but not unbelievably so. Why are we procrastinating fun?
I’ve also been putting off starting “artist dates,” an exercise recommended by Julia Cameron in her book The Artist’s Way. (An artist date is a block of time set aside each week for an excursion you take all by yourself, to someplace that will nurture your inner artist. This might be a secondhand store, the beach, an art gallery, even a movie you go to by yourself.) I know I need down time, time to putter around, time to refill my creative well, and yet I don’t take it. Artist dates would be particularly good for me in my goal of being open in 2010, but I feel guilty about taking any more time away from my responsibilities.
Apparently, putting off fun is common for many of us. A Dec. 28, 2009 New York Times column discussed research that indicates that people put off until later pleasurable things, like visiting local landmarks, using frequent flyer points for travel or using gift cards received as presents, that could be enjoyed right now. Somehow, we always think we will have more time for enjoyment tomorrow.
Why not put at least one or two strictly pleasurable things on that daily to-do list today? Adding fun to daily life doesn’t have to cost money, and many fun things require only modest amounts of time. We could:

• Watch the birds on the bird feeder.
• Cuddle the dog or cat.
• Eat some chocolate.
• Listen to music.
• Walk in the park.
• Browse the books, magazines and DVDs at the library and take some home to enjoy.
• Do a crossword puzzle.
• Call or email a good friend.
• Soak in a bubble bath by candlelight.
• Look at family photos.
• Work on a hobby—drawing, knitting, cross stitch—whatever we enjoy.
• Do a jigsaw puzzle.

The point is that we shouldn’t be so compulsively responsible that every item on the to-do list is a chore. Our work will still be there after we take 15 minutes to read a book or sketch in a journal. Who knows? Taking time every day to inject a little pleasure may help us to move on to bigger goals, like learning to scuba dive or traveling to Italy. That’s right—our long-term goals should also include some things that are just for fun. (Repainting the house does NOT count.)
What pleasure are you postponing?

This just in—Alaska has declared Feb. 2 Marmot Day! Three species of marmot can be found in Alaska (but no groundhogs), and Sen. Linda Menard, R-Wasilla who filed the official bill, hopes that the state will create educational activities around the animal. No weather forecasting duties will be required.

I’m all for any holiday that honors marmots. My family and I came across a number of the cute furry creatures while visiting Yellowstone in 2008, where they are also known as “whistle pigs,” because of a whistling noise they make. A cuddly animal known as a whistle pig? Who could resist?

There you have it! Hope you’re having a happy, book-filled Monday.

I’m still in the process of reviewing 2009 and planning for 2010…and here it is the last full week of January! No, I don’t have a problem with procrastination, why do you ask?

Actually, what I have is a hard time staying focused on something long enough to finish it. Thanks to Barbara Sher’s book, Refuse to Choose!, I’ve learned I’m not the only one. Sher describes me when she describes “Scanners,” people who are “genetically wired to be interested in many things.” Some of the things Scanners say that could come out of my mouth include: “I keep changing my mind about what I want to do and end up doing nothing.” “I keep going off on another tangent.” “I pull away from what I’m doing because I’m afraid I’ll miss something better.”

In the past, I’d become interested in something—gardening, for example. I’d run out and invest in a flat or two of flowers or herbs and plant them in my yard. Then a few days or weeks later, I’d decide I wanted to learn about Florida history or a foreign language. But if I did that, then I’d be taking time away from learning how to draw and paint! (And don’t ask what happened to the flowers and herbs.)

You see my dilemma. Realistically, I don’t have that much time for all the interests I’d like to pursue. I have a part-time job, a family and household to care for, and commitments to a regular exercise program and to my horse.

While I loved Refuse to Choose! from start to finish, one of the exercises I found most helpful was to make a six-year wall calendar with room to write all the things I want to do. (I now call it my “Six-Year Calendar of Happiness.”) Instead of taping typing paper together and using colored markers for each activity, as the book suggests, after a brainstorming session in a notebook, I typed a separate page for each year into a Word document. The plan is, instead of dissipating my energy trying to do 15 things at once, I focus on the four or five items I’ve put on my current year, secure in the knowledge that the other things I want to do or learn are written down, waiting for me in future years. If I think, “Oh, I’d love to know more about birds,” instead of immediately checking a book out of the library or surfing the internet for bird info, I write it down on my six-year calendar.

2009 was my first year using this system, and I did pretty well sticking to what I put on my list. I started simply: learning new things with my horse (jumping, going on more trail rides), studying and writing poetry and essays, continuing with watercolor class, expanding freelance writing, and reading one or two “classic” books. In 2010, I’m going to study drawing and sketching with an emphasis on learning to create an illustrated journal, continue working with my horse (he appears on every calendar year!), learn about Florida (history, ecology, culture) and keep reading classics.

My six-year calendar of happiness isn’t carved in stone. I made some adjustments to it when I reviewed my progress in 2009. It helps me rest easy knowing I won’t forget something I want to do. And I love it because it gives me a place to store my dreams and goals for the future—and keeps me focused enough to achieve them.

The photos and stories coming out of Haiti are heartbreaking—how can one tiny country suffer so much? And Haiti is not the only place where suffering seems to be the baseline for living. I sometimes have to put a moratorium on newspaper reading because there are so many big, unsolvable problems, I become overwhelmed. Despite our economic woes, the U.S. is so much better off in so many ways than nearly the entire world.

I’m happy to see the pouring out of support and help for Haiti, but I wonder what will happen to it once this crisis is “over”—or if it ever will, truly, be over. The country was still struggling to recover from the effects of the hurricanes in 2008 before the earthquake. Haiti needs more than donations of money. They need more than bottled water, or food or medicine. Even I can see this, and I am not remotely qualified to determine what they really need and/or how to give them lasting help. Sending a donation to a relief agency doesn’t feel like enough—it feels like a cop out. Does this mean I should do nothing? That’s not right, either.

I believe when any one of us reaches out to help another, no matter how small the act, it sends positive energy into the world. Imagine if every day every one of us helped someone else! The world would be a better place.

So today, instead of being frustrated because my efforts seem so puny in the face of the world’s troubles, I’ll do “just one thing.” Today, I’ll send a donation to a relief organization to help Haiti. Tomorrow, I’ll try to find someone else to help, and hope that that’s enough. For me, some days my one thing might be something as small as looking the supermarket cashier in the eye and smiling at her. Some days that will be all I am capable of. Other days, my one thing will be more substantial.

Like everyone, I have limited time and money to give. I don’t have answers for the world’s problems. But I can do just one thing.

The horses’ water buckets have ice on them:



 
  and my tomatoes, well, the less said about them the better.

R.I.P., Better Boy

Somehow, figuring out how to carve designs on our horses' rumps, and giggling over the process, took clipping out of the realm of chore and into the realm of fun. 

On another occasion, we put aside our Serious and Important Work to throw a horse birthday party.  Tank and Frenchy actually share a birthday, so last year to celebrate, Mary Ann made them both party hats and I made them a horsey birthday cookie. (Oats and carrots and molasses--yum!)

For the last week or so, I’ve been pondering 2009 and looking forward to 2010. I’ve read about others’ resolutions, goals and words for the year. I’ve thought about what I did and didn’t do in 2009, and wondered how I could make 2010 better.

I don’t make New Year’s resolutions or set yearly goals all at once in January, but the end of one year and the beginning of another does seem like an appropriate time to reevaluate where I’ve been and where I’m going. If opportunity is a book and today is the first chapter, what will 2010’s story be? A romance? An adventure? Hopefully not a tale of horror!

Whatever the story turns out to be, I must remember that I’m the author of my pages. Even if things don’t go my way, or something unexpected happens—and it’s bound to—how I react to what happens determines the words written on the page. And as the author, if nothing at all happens for long stretches, whose fault is that?

As my words trickle or pour onto the page, I’ll arrange and rearrange them, always looking for meanings and patterns in my experiences. At the end of 2010, I hope to have a masterpiece.

Welcome to the first chapter of the book of the new year. What stories will you write on its blank pages?