Passion. Outstanding engineering. Sustainability.

Mmmmmm. I am in love.

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*Quite possibly one of my favorite places to visit.

I believe in the magic of math (but that’s a blog post for another day) so when I found Touch Trigonometry via  StumbleUpon, I was thrilled.

You have to visit the site to fully appreciate it (and take advantage of the interactivity), but here’s a little preview:

Fun! Try it!

We love Playmobil. Love Apple. Love ThinkGeek.

So when I saw this in my inbox today,* I knew it was something I would have to share with you.

I especially love the “optional line pack” to complete the experience.

Did not particularly love the part about the “design cliche and hubris” of Apple, but hey, it’s a parody. And it’s all in fun, right?

Well, yeah, ridiculously fun. Ha!

And just for my Angry Birds-loving spouse and friends, look at this:

Happy April Fool’s Day!

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* Thanks, Jessica, for sending it!

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Originally posted December 6, 2007 (and annually rerun):

Yes…the holidays are upon us.

Stores blare Christmas music, commuters face nasty holiday traffic, shoppers swagger through crowded shops, busy busier frazzled parents lose patience with tired kids, and families spend hours (or days!) decorating their homes. It’s a time filled with ritual and traditions. And every family has its traditions. Some families go nuts every year on the outside of their homes hanging lights and signs…we don’t get crazy with our property — maybe we’ll put a few strands of white lights here and there, hang a couple of wreaths with bows, that’s about it.

But our Christmas tree inside our house? Ah, now that’s different.

We give heartfelt attention to our trees. My mom loved decorating Christmas trees. She trimmed beautiful trees. So did my grandmother. She had two trees at Christmas time with an elaborate, magical, snowy Christmas village underneath both of them, complete with kings on horses (or were they camels?) pointed toward her fireplace which had a beautiful creche inside. She spent a lot of time putting puffs of cotton underneath cotton batting then sprinkling glitter around to make it look like a shimmery, snowy fantasy land. She had little houses, animals and figurines spread all around and then a lovely little wooden fence on the edge of all of it. When we were old enough, my sisters and I would help her assemble this (what was in our minds massive) world. It was absolutely delightful.

We don’t even try to replicate that magic, but, sort of as a tribute to my family of origin, I put some effort into our tree. I enjoy decorating it. It all starts with the search for the right tree. We go out to a tree farm and my hubby uses a wimpy little saw (provided by the farm) and a whole lot of brawn to chop down a tree.

This year, our son spied a Norwegian Spruce (super prickly but great for holding lots of ornaments). It’s a funky tree, and we actually heard another family rejecting it because its branches were a bit wild and dense. We didn’t mind. So, in a Charlie Brown (well, Linus) kind of way, we decided that was the one for us. With a little TLC, we trimmed it, removed some of the sappy branches (and the twisted weedy thing that was growing up the trunk) and took it home.

Hubby and I put it in the stand without incident and then it was up to me to do the rest. I turned on some Christmas music, got a cup of tea and just sat and looked at it — not because I was feeling contemplative and pondering all my Christmases past, rather because I couldn’t find the box of lights. I had the tree topper, so I climbed up the ladder and set it on top, then I went back through the dozen or so boxes of decorations to search for the lights. I was just about ready to give up when, almost an hour later, I finally remembered that I stowed them in the attic.

Thank you, God! I mean, I needed the lights, because it’s the first step in the system. Yes, I have a decorating system that I’ve developed after years of advice and assistance from Mom. I start with the lights (I used to do a spiral around the tree, now I just zig zag up and around it and place them in spots that will optimize the sparkle factor). Mom always said that the key to making a great tree is to put some of the lights deep into the tree (in toward the trunk) to give it depth and provide maximum twinkle. Can’t skimp on the lights.

Ornaments are another place to be generous. I try to find great ornaments each year (preferably after Christmas, to get a good deal on bulbs I wouldn’t otherwise buy) and I have a color scheme to which I am loyal — clear lights with red, gold and white (but very few white) bulbs. So when I see a special red or gold bulb after Christmas, I scoop it up, add it to the collection, and look forward to putting it up the following year.

Mom insisted that the general idea is to hang the largest bulbs around the bottom and the smallest bulbs at the top, but I save a few small bulbs to sprinkle here and there around the middle (where I need more color). The shiniest bulbs go closest to the lights to maximize the sparkle. All of this is probably basic, basic tree trimming knowledge.

So now I’ll share some of my favorite Mom tips. First, how to use very effective little trimmings called sprays.

I’m not much of a crafty gal, but this trick is worth a trip to Michael’s (or AC Moore or whatever craft stores you have near you). Mom gave us some red and gold sprays that I carefully place in those bare spots that are otherwise just big, bland sections of green (Mom also used to add feathery birds to her tree, but I chose to omit them).

Another important Mom tip: ocassionally stand back a few steps and look at the whole tree to find the bare spots and fill them in with just the right decoration. I did just that and tweaked until I was satisfied. Then, I gathered up my french ribbon (the kind that has wire on each side — I use red ribbon with gold beads on the sides) and carefully wound it & twisted it around the tree. Finally, I used strings of beads and draped them around the tree, up and down the branches like this:

Then, when I finally finished, I made another cup of tea, got a little plate of cookies and sat and looked at it.For me, it’s the most special part of my ritual. That’s the time when I reflect back on all the past Christmases, back when mom was still alive. I think about my mom and grandmother and silently thank them for all the wisdom they passed on to me. I think about the time in college when my mom took me shopping for Christmas decorations because she wanted to help me set up my very first tree (away from home). I remember marveling at her attention to detail and understanding what a difference it made.

When I spend that special time looking at our tree, I am so grateful for the many warm, loving memories. I feel blessed to have had all those years learning Mom’s tips, decorating with her, buying new decorations, laughing and singing carols. All sorts of feelings start rushing through me. I start to wish she could be sitting there with me, also having a cup of tea and some cookies. I wish I could see her beautiful, sparkling eyes as she gazed approvingly at the tree.

At this time of year, I miss my mom the most. So my ritual often ends with tears. Sometimes I cry, other times I just sit and smile. No matter what, though, just before standing up and going on with the rest of my day, I always say, “This one’s for you, Mom. Thanks.”

2007 Christmas Tree (during the day)

2007 Tree at Night

Merry Christmas!

Happy Chanukah.

Happy Eid.

Habari Gani.

Happy Winter Solstice (that one’s for you, Dan!)

Kudos to Steve Jobs, Jonathan Ive and everyone else at Apple.

Look how far you’ve come. People seem to forget your status as the underdog just a decade or two ago.

I remember.

I remember being reluctant to switch from the industry leader, to move from a PC to a (gasp!) Mac. The PC was king. IBM was a player — a blue chip/work-there-for-50-years-get-a-pension-and-a-gold-watch company. In fact, I remember having IBM as a client, touring a facility in Poughkeepsie, New York and marveling at the mainframes.

What a different world it was. It was all about the software. Or so some people thought.

Who predicted that you would be bigger than Microsoft?

Not many.

But you are. I consider it a magnificent accomplishment, worthy of some applause and respect.

Instead, you get an uproar over death grips and faulty antennas.

Many (most?) iPhone owners don’t mind a little frustration and imperfection.

My guess? The vast majority of iPhone 4 owners (okay, well, at least my husband and I) believe the product is marvelous. Beautiful and efficient. Elegant and powerful.

Yet some critics delight in their schadenfreude over a pseudo furor that’s actually relatively insignificant.

Why?

It leads me to wonder (with some degree of sadness) why people like to knock other peoples’ success. Why they expect (demand?) perfection and then pounce (shine a spotlight on it?) when they discover the slightest flaw.

I believe in a principle of abundance, where people support one another and trumpet the greatest achievements of friends, family members and respected colleagues, then support them and encourage them through hard times or whenever they stumble.

So I applaud you, Apple.

And you know what?

The iPhone has improved the quality of my life. I often forget that it’s a phone because that’s the least important part of the device. People who don’t use the iPhone don’t understand that fact. It’s not about the telephone. Even the word, telephone, is so…last millennium.

Now, it’s all about the apps…and the developers’ passions. Not to mention the passion of each and every iPhone owner. Each device is so customized, so specific to each user that it becomes special. Each owner makes it special, depending on his/her own interests, needs and passions.

Oh, and FaceTime?

It’s now. It’s tomorrow. It’s very Jetsons. And it works. Simply. It helped me endure some recent trips away from my family. Heck, it made them feel as if they were right there with me. It affected our quality of life. It brought us immeasurable joy.

So forget about those naysayers, haters and foes.

Congratulations on another extraordinary creation.

They seem to be going in an interesting direction…

Not bad, for a start.

What do you think?

This is my kind of super hero flick:

Can’t wait to see it.

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No, I did not (sadly) get an Audi R8 or even a model replica of an Audi A8 for posting this message. I just liked it and wanted to share it.

The iPad.

Ahhh…soak in its loveliness.

My favorite part? It’s too hard to choose.
hi-res color iBooks, the keyboard dock, the revised iCal (that looks much better (and resembles my ancient (no, wait, did I ever actually use one of those?) Filofax)) or the ability to view all my apps on a larger screen.

Here are David Pogue’s first impressions.

Honestly? It is so very tempting for me. To say the least.

I was in a bus filled with middle school kids today and they were all atwitter, excitedly chattering away about how each and every one of them wanted to get an iPad. Mmmhmm.  Those naysayers on Twitter don’t know what they’re talking about.  This baby is going to be sizzling hot. I can feel it.

What about you?

Just another gadget you don’t need or want? Or are you dreaming about it and frequently thinking about it? Giving up your Kindle for this thing? Or sticking with your hardcover bestseller?

Hmmm….

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Image by Nicolas Kamm / Getty Images

And a family with strong family values.

Photo by Annie Leibovitz/Released by White House Photo Office

Happy Holidays!

I like paper. Not in a Dunder-Mifflin kind of way. No, I like writing papers. When I open my mailbox and see a handwritten envelope with an address label of one of my friends, I smile, walk quickly back into the house, put the stack of mail on the counter, then pull out the special envelope and put it at my place at our kitchen table.

I delight in its existence. I can’t wait to open it.

But I do.

I make a cup of tea, kick off my shoes and slowly sit in my chair, eagerly awaiting the discovery of the contents of the special envelope.

“Mmm…nice stationery,” I think as I flip over the card.

Yeah. It’s a moment for me.

When I was a teen, my friends and I loved to discover beautiful papers or fun cards. We wrote letters to each other even though we lived less than a few miles away. We wrote to each other at summer camp. My favorite stationery was a fold-over Snoopy note card that served as its own envelope. Fold the bottom up and the top down, then turn it around and boom! There’s your address box. Sort of like a postcard, sort of like an envelope.

Later,

when I was engaged to be married, I thoroughly enjoyed selecting our wedding announcements but, by that time, I had moved well past Snoopy to a very traditional, formal style.

Then, when Soapbox Dad and I were newlyweds, I remember having difficulty deciding on holiday cards. He wanted formal, straightforward holiday cards. I wanted either cleanly designed or cutesy cards with gushy sentiments like, “Peaceful New Year” or “Joyful Christmas” or “Fuzzy Warm Feelings.” We usually settled on some inoffensive compromise card with toned down but sincere sentiments.

Then we had kids. And the need to announce their births. I remember spending way too much time selecting our first child’s birth announcements.

Soapbox Dad and I actually visited a store in our town that had samples of birth announcements pasted into over-sized, unwieldy scrapbooks that weighed about fifty pounds each. We hoisted several books onto a huge desk and slowly thumbed through each book, carefully turning the pages, letting our imaginations replace the name on the card with our daughter’s name, which at that point was still an unknown.

After weeks of deliberating and seeking advice from our parents, we selected announcements that, in retrospect, were probably more formal than our family’s current lifestyle and a little more to our parents’ standards than our own.

We played it safe.

After the kids were born, the next great stationary challenge was the annual holiday card. If we ever considered being overly formal and sending William Arthur or Crane, I don’t remember. The driving force was our desire to share a photo of our baby girl.  So the first criterion for the cards was the ability to hold a photo.  Options were extremely limited.  In fact, the first year we just used a traditional holiday card and inserted a photo of our little girl.  As soon as we had two kids, we found a card style that worked.  We used double stick tape to attach a photo of the kids to each card.

The most challenging part of the holiday card had less to do with the style or the sentiment of the card and far more to do with successfully capturing a lovely photograph of two smiling children.

Photographers would use bubbles, toys, puppets, jokes, and other creative means to try to get a good photograph of the kids.  I would stand off to the side and try to laugh, giggle, make faces, or do whatever I could to get both of them to smile at the same time.  All we needed was one good shot…

Eventually I tried to take the pictures myself.  Heaven knows why, but I thought a seemingly impulsive moment might be more effective.  If I could just wait for good afternoon light when the kids were both in good moods and/or just had a snack and turn a quiet afternoon into a photo shoot, I was bound to get a good shot. Sometimes it worked and other times…

Keep in mind, this was back in the days of 35mm photography.  Film in cameras.  Shooting three or four rolls of film not knowing whether any of those pictures would be suitable for a holiday card.  Then taking the rolls of film to the store to be developed, waiting for them to be shipped back, flipping madly through pack after pack, hoping and praying for that one special shot.  If I happened to be lucky enough to have one good one, then I would have to sort through the negatives to find the shot, go back to the store to order a hundred or more copies of the picture and wait for those to come back. Argh!

And which card would I use?  Who cares?! I would use whatever folding paper could hold that *$% picture that I finally had and would actually send to friends and family before the holidays were over!

Whew.

There had to be a better way.

Enter the joys of modern technology.

Cue confetti, happy music and smiling faces.

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