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?