43 not out

This is post 43 of 43 posts, which completes this challenge.

You'd think I'd be at least a little excited. I'm not. I'm already wondering what I do for an encore. The reward of a job well done and all that.

Join me tomorrow to find out.

Preschooler in a china shop: an exercise in futility

Today I watched a woman stop outside an upmarket gift shop, with her pre-schooler in tow. She clearly wanted to go in. She yearned. She slowed. Her child eventually stopped pointing at cars and dogs and turned to the glittering display. The woman chewed her lip and said, "Would you like to go in? We can go in, if you promise not to touch."

I mentally wanted to quote Dr Phil: "So, how's that workin' for ya?"

Seriously, caregivers of the world, I assure you that 99.9% of pre-schoolers will touch. Not on purpose, not necessarily on purpose. At that age, it's still instinct to touch everything in order to explore it.

I also assure you that no matter how nice the staff of the upmarket gift store are about you and your child browsing, 98% would really rather you didn't bring your child shopping.

They'd rather your child not touch.
They'd rather your child did not impede the access of adults who might actually buy their wares.
They'd rather not have the luxurious ambience so necessary to impulse buys shattered by your hissed reminders of, "Don't touch!".
Or by the subsequent hysteria when you want to leave but your child is entranced, or your child wants to go but you are enthralled.
They'd rather you not be mortified by all of the above and leave without buying anything, vowing never to return.

Children and recreational shopping doesn't mix. Unless you're shopping entirely on their terms, neither of you are likely to enjoy it. Some situations are just set up for failure, an exercise in futility all round.

Post 42 of 43 posts.

Real life melodrama

My history research continues. I'm just the tiniest bit worried about how much I am enjoying it - and how compulsive it is. Not only thrill of the chase, but also the outlines of some pretty full-on real life melodrama.

A sneak-peek:

Sometime early last century, a fine upstanding gentleman of the family left a modest amount of money to his beloved wife and child, his share of the family business to his siblings... and the rather more sizeable bulk of his estate to a Miss X. Not unnaturally, his sorrowing widow contested the will, unsuccessfully. Miss X even had what the temerity (as the widow might have phrased it) to insert a memorial notice in the relevant paper. Thus the memorial notices are from his widow and child, his siblings, and his.... dear friend.

It only needs for me to find out she was his secretary as well as his dear friend. Ah...real life melodrama: if I put it in a novel, you'd say it was far-fetched.

This is post 41 of 43 posts.

It's amazing what you can google

It's amazing what you can google.

I'm doing some research into the early history of Melbourne. I've found several members of the family I'm interested in, thanks to Trove, which has digitized versions of The Argus, the paper of record in early Melbourne (although it closed down in the 1950s).

This family are not prominent enough to appear in the official history, although why I am not sure. They seem to be related to or in business with most of the names who do appear in the official history. Which leads me to wonder about the nature of history itself...

Even though they're not in the books, with enough patience, and a quirky approach to word association, you can find out more than you'd expect without leaving the comfort of your adsl-enabled home.

This is post 39 of 43 posts.

Habit forming

We find it so easy to form bad habits, and hard to kick them. We may forget that we can form positive and beneficial habits too. We can form habits that move us in the direction of our truest self.

My current blogging self-challenge is drawing to a close. I haven't missed a post this round - yet. With only 5 more posts after this, it's looking good for a 100% result.  Better still, it feels like a habit, now. Not exactly easy but going to work everyday isn't necessarily easy and yet somehow we manage it. In the end, going to work on a workday feels more normal than not. That's the very definition of a habit: it feels normal.

Another habit I'm forming is meditation. I'm being helped by an iphone app (also a website): getsomeheadspace, which was recommended to me by a wise acquaintance. It offers a free program called Take10 (also Take15 and Take20 for when I get that far).

I've been using the program for 10 days now. Unlike other guided meditations I've tried, I don't feel silly doing it. The instructions are clear and simple, it's secular and sensible.

I can't point to anything specific which has changed, but I feel better when I do it. If only because I've kept faith with my own good intention. Which is a good habit to get into.

This is post 38 of 43 posts.

Grace notes

In music, a grace note is an ornament. It is something of an extra, which gives something more to the note to which it is attached. A grace note adds a little extra, and exactly how much (and what) emphasis it is given, is up to the individual performer.

Life offers many opportunities for grace notes. Too often, we don't take advantage of those opportunities. Too often, we don't even realise there are such opportunities.

Lotus Health, a Chinese massage centre in Camberwell, have a particular grace note that I like. There is a small vase of flowers on the shelf below the head hole, in their massage tables. So you can look at three cheerful little gerberas while you're flat on your stomach with your head poked into a hole. You may (or may not) be surprised that it was the masseur's wife who came up with this lovely idea.

A grace note is a gift. A small moment of generosity - of spirit, of thought, not necessarily of money. I suspect such gestures nourish the spirit of both the giver and the recipient.

This is post 37 of 43 posts.

A real gem

Today I went to get a couple of gemstones valued for insurances purposes. Don't get excited, the cost of the valuation was almost more than the stones, more's the pity.

The real value of the exercise was meeting the valuers, Stephen and Ian from the Australian Gem Testing Laboratory, and watching the process of the valuation. It was a fascinating glimpse of a world that I know nothing about.

Stephen and Ian chatted to me while they went about the business of determining that my gemstones weren't up to much. I suspect they it knew at a glance, but they approached the task with the same seriousness as if I'd decanted several carats worth of diamonds onto the counter. Expertise, as I noted yesterday, is always a beautiful thing. These chaps are good at people, not just at jewellery. It wasn't phoney 'salesmanship', rather it was a genuine human exchange.

A window onto another world - and other people's lives are always another world - is a precious thing. Too often our own rut seems like the only rut there is. A glimpse outside it makes our possibilities expand. Their normal is not my normal. I'm sure that after a while, to anyone in the trade, valuing jewellery is about as exciting as keeping the racks tidy at a clothing retailer, but to an outsider it's definitely exotic.

Perhaps the most exotic thing about it is realising that it no longer seems exotic to them. Neither wore jewellery of any sort, not even a watch.

This is post 36 of 43 posts.

Expertise is always a beautiful thing.

Expertise is always a beautiful thing. Here are two examples, from wildly different places. Both are models of clear easy-to-understand explanation.

Mike Hernandez's Database design for mere mortals is the best book I've come across to explain relational databases, how to build them, and, in the process, why you might want to. The link takes you to Safari books online where you can have a look at some sample pages. I don't need someone to tell me which buttons to push - the user guide with FileMaker Pro handles that just fine, thanks - I needed someone to explain the big picture so I actually know what I'm doing.

Mr Hernandez talks you right through the process of designing your database - which he recommends you do on paper before you even think of opening the particular software application you'll use. Once you have your data sorted, and if - it's a big if - you understand the business need, the relationships practically take care of themselves.

On a completely different subject, clothing and appearance, is another expert, Imogen Lamport. As much as I love Trinny & Susannah, Imogen is as good (maybe even better) at explaining what to wear and what not to wear, because she explains why so well.  Her blog Insideoutstyleblog.com has excellent articles on how proportions, fit, colour and accessories work. The link takes you to a discussion of how to figure out your face shape. Knowing your face shape saves a lot of anguish when you go to the hairdresser or choose earrings, in case you were wondering.

Expertise is always a beautiful thing.

Post 35 of 43 posts.

Further instances of the number 43

Kevin McCloud's latest book is 43 Principles of Home. I'm not sure how I missed the significance previously - I've dipped into it in book shops, without taking adequate note of the title. That would be because to me it's "that new Kevin McCloud book".

In spooky synchronicity, his property development company, HAB (Happiness, Architecture and Beauty) is building a 43 house eco-development in Wiltshire. [Or a 42 house eco-development - the exact number depends on which article you read... clearly I vote for the extra house for symmetry's sake.]

I've also come across a website: 43 things. Visit if you want to list your New Year's Resolution (a bit late). They featured in the New York Times earlier this year.

And finally...

It takes 43 facial muscles to frown.

This is post 34 of 43 posts.

A machine for living

I've been watching Grand Designs, the British reality show about people self-building.  An English friend says it's known over there as 'grand budgets'. I'm struck by how concerned the builders are about how the rooms look. Aesthetics are important. Architecture can promote happiness, and sometimes even create it, as Alain de Botton has pointed out.

Often, though, the spaces don't work in a practical sense. Oliver Sach's, in An Anthropologist on Mars, describes Temple Grandin's house as 'a machine for living' which exactly conveys what's missing. Some of these grand designs are not efficient machines for living.

If you have five living spaces, you'll spend a lot of time swabbing the decks. If the dining room is on a different floor from the kitchen, the food will arrive cold unless you have a dumb waiter and some really good quality chafing dishes. If you have no storage, you will have get rid of everything you (used to) own to move in. Things like that are important to our everyday experience of our homes.

When we're all striving to make our houses look beautiful like our favourite homewares stores, we may be neglecting this other important aspect of "liveability".

This is post 33 of 43 posts.

That's what I call customer service

TPG are our new wireless adsl2+ provider. It's been an eye-opening experience.

When we signed up we got an email explaining the necessary steps to implement the service. This is a low-cost service, it's not sold with a promise of hugs and kisses. The service limitations - the optional phoneline is VoIP and it won't work during power outages - are clearly set out in unambiguous plain English. Already I approved.

As each step was completed, we got an email update. There is also a website where you can check the up-to-the-minute status of your implementation. (In case the hour-or-so delay is stressing you out!) To our chagrin, Telstra had to come and resuscitate a line to the house. It was booked in yesterday. TPG both emailed and rang to confirm we were definitely available and it was convenient for us to sit at home between 9-12. The Telstra chap came at 10 and left by 11. (That alone is astonishing based on my previous experiences with the T-word.)

When we hadn't configured the modem and logged on by 9am this morning, TPG sent an email and then rang to ensure everything was going ok and see if we needed help.

Most of this service is done by automated emails based on triggers. It doesn't feel impersonal, it feels efficient. This is what the world could be like if every large organisation cared enough to design the customer process with the customers' needs in front of mind.

I'm a bit in shock. Also full of admiration.

This is post 28 of 43 posts.

Opportunity

We do not have equal opportunities. We are not all capable of being Chairman or CEO of BHP. The key capability lacking, in most of us, is any desire to be Chairman or CEO of BHP.

We do, I hope, have the opportunity to become most fully ourself, and to make most fully our unique contribution to the world.

To achieve this we have to want to be ourself. We have to ignore the insidious voice of doubt, the disloyal whisper that we would be more acceptable if we were more like someone else. This someone else is usually someone we perceive as more successful, in our eyes or the world's eyes.

To fail without trying, to miss an opportunity should be our greatest regret. Should, coulda, woulda: didn't. In regretful moments we assume these missed opportunities would have led to greatness. Maybe, maybe not. I'm certain they would have led to integrity, to the honest expression of who we are.

This is post 27 of 43 posts.
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Interval at the concert has more dramas than on stage

I attended a concert this afternoon. It was lovely. Great chamber ensemble, great bass baritone, interesting program of short works. Good concert companion. Check.
The bar at interval was insane. I sane as in 'insanely busy' but also just insane. For the rest of this post I am channeling my inner old trout, so please avert your eyes if you are easily distressed.
At a large concert You have hundreds of people needing a drink in just 20 minutes. The bars are stuck down the end of a corridor and not big enough - when the venue was built the gentleman of the party took refreshments out to his ladies. It was Bedlam.
The menu is limited but there are four varieties of wine plus beer and soft drink, ice-cream and chocolates. There are three (maybe four) staff in a very cramped space only one of whom is capable - or perhaps allowed? - to run the till. One chap required more than five minutes to fail to pour some bubbles. All drinks are poured on request rather than being pre-poured. Perhaps it theoretically saves on waste but not when offset against lost customer revenue. The coffee, at least has been brewed and is in those catering thermoset thingies. Few souls were so hardy or desperate.
The icecreams are in a fridge the servers cannot reach, and many patrons are confused to be told to go fetch their over-priced icecreams themselves. As this is the Sunday matinee, several patrons have limited mobility with which to do so (and they've yet to visit the facilities in the few minutes that remain of interval, so its a bit of a worry and this turns them Bolshie).
Surely the profits are greater the more items you sell? Especially at $9 for a very small plastic flute of vin ordinaire bubbly from chateau iffy. I would like to say the staff rose to the challenge with some show of resourcefulness or even forethought or willingness, but I'm afraid there was no evidence of this. Only the senior on the till attempted to get things moving, the others looked to be enduring the twenty minutes until it was over. With a total absence of work pride and an excess of helplessness, I image the time went even slower for them than it did for those of us stuck in the queue. I imagine they are all casuals and have no training. The venue is only used for concerts on occasion. But still... It didn't have to be like that. Talk about Moments of Truth!
This is post 26 of 43 posts.
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Value

As I write this, I am looking at three handmade terracotta angels adorning the wall of my living room. I bought them last December from the Oxfam Shop, initially for Christmas decorations. The angels are individual and rustic. Their wings are fragile, and have had to be repaired, which is why I bought them for $6.  Not each, altogether. It's a ridiculous price, but the Oxfam shop couldn't shift them for more. They were a princely $12 before they were damaged in transit.

My angels have beautiful lines and character. They remind me of medieval angels. This reminds me of happy times on holiday abroad, poking around old castles. It all reminds me of the dignity of craft, which has no pretensions and does not require the support of mechanized perfection.

I value them far more than the measly price I paid for them (each angel is cheaper than a cup of coffee). Of all my possessions, the ones I value are not always the most expensive. Some are, some aren't.

In a business sense, I think we measure cost more than we measure value. Perhaps because its easier to quantify cost.  We know the cost of a particular project or initiative, but we don't consider its value. During moments of fiscal unease, many businesses call a halt to spending, without counting the negative costs of what doesn't get done. Or we spend money carelessly, doing tasks that are 'easy wins' because they're 'cheap' and we don't consider how little value they offer, or what we could achieve with the savings.

What value does your labour (physical or intellectual) contribute to your employer or business? Do you know?

This is post 25 of 43 posts.

Over and out

Do you ever wonder how to - gracefully - extract yourself from a text exchange?
Have you ever felt uncertain whether A) the recipient has seen the text yet, B) they are considering their options, or C) they're ignoring you?
This may mean I am hopelessly middle-aged and not 2.0 native, but I offer one solution. Back in the days of radio - which, incidentally, was very nearly before my time - there was a system for just these occasions.
End any text where you expect a response with 'over'.
End any text which you consider finished with 'out'.
NB: In spite of B-grade movies, 'over and out' is a nonsense.
I wonder what text-speak contractions we'll use once the tech-natives get hold of this?
Of course, the under 30 never seem to consider a text exchange finished... Or is it just me who thinks so?
Over...
This is post 24 of 43 posts.
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Don't try to fix the people: they aren't the problem.

Don't try to fix the people, just work on the process. Fixing people is cripplingly expensive: in time, energy, goodwill and - often - sanity. Usually, it doesn't work because usually the people aren't the problem.
While a clean sweep has it's appeal at times, it's too easy to start and too hard to finish. Most of us aren't ready for that much change or that much hassle for a mirage.
I can guarantee that, most of the time, if you were to replace the broken people in your life you would still have problems with the (new) people in your life. They'll just be different problems.
Tired of managing your stick-in-mud, cynical seat warmers? Great! How about you swap them for some high achieving, ruthlessly competitive, individualists?
Focus instead on the process. This holds true whether the process is a business process, or a family relationship. Why is the situation not working? Is it lack of understanding of what's needed (and if so, why)? Is it lack of cooperation (and if so, why)? Is it ingrained risk aversion (and if so, why)? Is it just a habit of mediocrity that now feels comfortable?
The two near eternal needs are more money and better personnel. Genuine success rests on first improving what you can do with what's available of both.
This is post 23 of 43 posts.
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Persuasion

Good persuasive writing, everything from a love letter to an advertisement, to a public service announcement should focus on the readers' needs rather than the writer's.
This is why it's so hard to write your own resume. Its hard not to be invested. It's hard to remove all traces of either your ego or your insecurities. It is hard to separate your needs from the readers' needs.
Come to think of it, that can be a flaw with love letters too. The writer's need can overwhelm. The object of desire is not necessarily served by the protestations and agonistes being directed to him or her. The love letter 'works' best if the object of desire wants the heart the writer offers, wants the writer. The most perfectly written love letter in the world cannot overcome true indifference, it can at best fan a spark into a pilot light.
So perhaps persuasion has nothing to do with it. Whether in love letters or in resumes. at best they are a phantasm of the mind that crafts them, as a suit of clothes roughly delineates the body within.
This is post 22 of 43 posts.
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In praise of scones

Ah yes, another food-related post. Note to self: stop writing these when you're hungry!

Yesterday I made some scones. [Somewhere between biscuits and individual shortcakes for my North American readers.] The scone is one of those humble foodstuffs that can be underrated. The availability of mass-produced, over-sweet, inferior scones is threatening the Real Thing, which is now an endangered species. Which is a pity.

Scones are the perfect life-support system for good jam and cream. Or good cheese (especially if you're short of good bread). I like mine with 'just butter' too. Cheese and herb scones are good for those who don't have a sweet tooth, or for dunking in soups and stews. I have a soft spot for scones with dried fruit as my Aunties made them when I was a child, I just never seem to make them for myself. Probably because I can't do it as well.

A guest always feels welcomed - even fussed over - if you make scones, yet with the foolproof technique it takes less than 10 minutes to make up a batch (this includes finding the kitchen notebook which lists the quantities you can never remember, and changing your mind about which size oven tray to use), and 10-15 minutes to cook, even in my unreliable oven.  That's just time to dig out your favourite jams, and put the kettle on. Its quicker than going to the shops for a pack of biscuits, cheaper and nicer too.

2 cups of self-raising flour
50 gms butter
150 mls milk
extra milk to glaze   [Some people prefer egg or egg and milk. It takes all sorts, I suppose.]

To serve: good jam, cream (runny or whipped as you prefer, clotted if you're feeling indulgent), also great with lemon curd, another old fashioned delicacy.

Foolproof scone technique:

Preheat your oven to 200'C. Yes, you really have to for scones.

Scone dough wants as little handling as possible. I used to cut the butter in using a food-processor, then add the milk and quickly combine with my (scrupulously clean) hands. That works fairly well but you have to clean the food-processor afterward, which is a bore and a deterrent.

A friend, who makes great scones, uses melted butter, because that's-the-way-Mum-always-did-it. So throw the melted butter in, mix it into the flour until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs (or you can't be bothered messing anymore) and then add the milk.

The dough should be, if anything, damp rather than dry. Throw it onto a floured surface and pat it into a squarish round about 1.5cms thick. Or 2cms if you prefer really high scones.

Cut the scones clean through without dragging the knife back-and-forth. If you use a glass or a cookie cutter, press down and pull straight up, never twist as the dough will be caught  and your scones won't rise. Glaze the top with a bit of milk.

Stick them on a baking tray. I use either a baking sheet or baking parchment so I don't have to grease.  Spread them a little apart or they'll join up in the cooking.

Bake at 200'C for 12-15 minutes. In a good fan-forced oven, I'd check after 10 minutes. It can take as long as 20 minutes if your oven is very geriatric.

What NOT to do with a scone:

1. Microwave it. Just. Don't. It will be soggy and rubbery with an ice cold bit in the middle and the edges so hot your whipped cream melts and goes oily.
2. Refrigerate it. Scones are quick breads, so you eat the them same day and that's all there is to it. In my house there are seldom any leftovers, and so no moral dilemma of 'to fridge or not to fridge'. But if there were, I wouldn't.  In desperate cases I have found a couple of rock-hard, day-old scones are excellent for sopping up casserole or stew gravy.

This is post 18 of 43 posts.

The Gentle Art of Constructive criticism

Now that we've defined how criticism differs from complaint, how do we give feedback so we minimise fallout and maximise results? I call it the Gentle Art of Constructive Criticism...

1. Make sure your proposed criticism is constructive: "you'll never make it as a writer, so stop wasting your time" is judgement, not constructive criticism. Be kind - sometimes that will mean keep your mouth shut, and sometimes that will mean telling the truth even though you'll suffer for it.
2. Ask if the person would like your feedback. Unless it's part of your job to critique other people's performance. If so, don't be coy but do give the recipient a choice about when the criticism will happen. (If someone is coming down with the flu, has been chewed out by Joe Public, or has suffered a bereavement now may not be the best time.)
3. In private. Nobody likes to be criticised in public.
4. Offer both praise and blame. Surely this person is doing something right?! Scrupulous fairness usually makes criticism harder to dismiss and easier to accept. As a minimum it makes the giver of unpalatable feedback feel better about the task.
5. Be specific and direct. Don't hint: "there are things you could be doing better... now I'll just leave you to think about that, eh?"
6. Try to offer a solution, not just a problem. "You suck," doesn't give people much room to improve.
7. If you're not offering 'drive-by criticism' (and why would you?), be alert to and encouraging of improvement. Or even steps toward progress. Again, keep it private between you and the person you criticised. 

This is post 14 of 43 posts.

Bunnings is evil and must be stopped

Bunnings Warehouse is a very large, supposedly low-cost, hardware store in Australia. DIY Mecca in other words. You know you're middle aged when your idea of a pleasant Sunday morning outing is to go down to Bunnings, ostensibly to purchase some minor-but-essential item, but really to dream about all the things you'll do to your house while you eat a sausage in a bun*.

As everyone in Melbourne who is A) middle-aged and B) middle-class (in the Aussie sense... think desk-bound working class) and C) a home owner knows, it doesn't count as materialist ostentation if it adds value to your house. In that case it's an investment, even if it will be worn out by the time you need to sell in order to fund a retirement villa. It also doesn't count if it's a $6,000 BBQ, for some reason I don't quite fathom, but that's a subject for another post.

Ah, retail therapy! Today I - mentally - spent around $1500 on patio furniture, terracotta pots, a raised vegetable plot and more plants than will fit in my garden. We went in looking for grout to re-grout the shower recess. Funnily enough, we forgot to look at anything as mundane as grout after we visited the Storage, Gardening, Outdoor Living and Power Tools sections. I may have mentally spent it, but I have a feeling that the things I saw will eventually make it onto my actual shopping list. (Only 336 days until Christmas!)

But today was a win, as Mr O and I departed empty-handed - though not empty-stomached, but that doesn't count as purchse, I mean it's for charity, right?!

*In a master stroke of marketing, Bunnings have an outdoor kitchen which they loan out to various charity groups who purvey BBQ sausage in a piece of bread (with or without onion) for around $2.50. I gather its a very successful fundraiser, even better than selling chocolate and only one day's work a time.

This is post 12 of 43 posts.