Search for "dryers versus paper" on the Internet in one form or another and be prepared for more than 44,000 sites pleading their particular case.
The main points of contention from a user perspective seem to be which one is the quickest, which one does the best job, which one is the most hygienic, and the degree of environmental friendliness.
I have to admit I'm torn between the two hand-drying tools. I like the idea of using paper - something quiet and tangible in my hands that gets the job done quickly and efficiently. You can even use it to avoid touching the flusher, taps and door handles. Alternatively, dryers are usually slow and noisy, although those new fandangled ones are a vast improvement and kind of fun to use. New or old, however, they don't do anything other than dry hands.
But what about hygiene and environmental friendliness? Well, there are many arguments on both sides of those equations, and even though at least 44,000 websites claim to have resolved the debate, I think the jury is still out. In any case, I have neither the time nor the inclination to investigate further.
So, rather than devote any more energy to the issue, I'm going to take matters into my own hands, so to speak. In lieu of either, I'll simply pack a small towel into my bag whenever I go out and use that instead. Fast, effective, clean and friendly. Might even spark a conversation about the issue of dryers versus paper. Now, what could be more fun than that?!
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
The sounds of sirens ...
Hard to believe, but at varying times during the past forty-six nights, there have been sirens of some description moving through our neighbourhood. Sometimes along the main road, sometimes passing through en route to other locations, even a few times up our street. Loud, piercing, persistent sirens that announce little, other than the fact that they are on their way somewhere to help someone in some way.
Not sure what that says about our wider community - more people in trouble, more people making trouble - but in our little backyard, it contrasts oddly with other sounds of the great outdoors - all manner of critters scurrying around, gentle breezes, the occasional rainstorm, people chatting, cyclists and their nemeses, neighbours walking their dogs. Of course, we wouldn't notice as much if our window was closed to the sounds of the night, but while summer hangs on and spring threatens, our window stays open.
After forty-six nights, we are looking forward to a siren-free sleep. A small indication that perhaps, for one night at least, all is well in our corner of the world.
Not sure what that says about our wider community - more people in trouble, more people making trouble - but in our little backyard, it contrasts oddly with other sounds of the great outdoors - all manner of critters scurrying around, gentle breezes, the occasional rainstorm, people chatting, cyclists and their nemeses, neighbours walking their dogs. Of course, we wouldn't notice as much if our window was closed to the sounds of the night, but while summer hangs on and spring threatens, our window stays open.
After forty-six nights, we are looking forward to a siren-free sleep. A small indication that perhaps, for one night at least, all is well in our corner of the world.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Too many chains
Chains. I hate chains. All bad. Take 'em all off.
For too long there have been too many chains keeping brilliant minds closed. Too many chains keeping strong voices silent. Too many chains clouding the view. Too many chains blocking the right road ahead. Too many chains taming the wild. Too many chains laying waste to the garden. Too many chains making stones of us all.
For too long there has been too much captivity, not enough freedom. Too much fear, not enough courage. Too much doubt, not enough celebration. Too many ghosts, not enough passage. Too many causes, not enough champions.
For too long there has been too much indifference, too many victims, too many chains, not enough listening.
Take 'em all off. All bad. I hate chains. Cut.
For too long there have been too many chains keeping brilliant minds closed. Too many chains keeping strong voices silent. Too many chains clouding the view. Too many chains blocking the right road ahead. Too many chains taming the wild. Too many chains laying waste to the garden. Too many chains making stones of us all.
For too long there has been too much captivity, not enough freedom. Too much fear, not enough courage. Too much doubt, not enough celebration. Too many ghosts, not enough passage. Too many causes, not enough champions.
For too long there has been too much indifference, too many victims, too many chains, not enough listening.
Take 'em all off. All bad. I hate chains. Cut.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Tea, anyone?
There is no doubt that coffee reigns supreme. It fills our cups and is a mainstay at all restaurants and cafes. The proof is (a) in the pouring, which happens on a regular basis, and often before you've even finished your cup, and (b) in the queueing and consuming, which seems never ending. For the most part, coffee drinkers are well taken care of, but what about the tea aficionados?
Despite its "unparalleled and enduring popularity" and reputation as "the world's most prevalent hot beverage", tea has remained, in many ways, a secondary commodity. You would think that given the diverse menu on offer and the much-promoted medicinal benefits, tea would be considered of at least equal importance to its caffeine counterpart. However, in many locales, tea drinkers are regularly overlooked, sometimes even ignored and completely forgotten about, as servers tend to the coffee drinkers.
As a part-time devotea, I have personally been on the receiving end of such treatment. That I survived is not the point. That it happens at all, is. And it was never demonstrated better than on our recent visit to a caffeine-beverage installation with one of our friends.
Put simply, we were amazed and a little embarrassed by the attention we received compared to our friend, who, more often than not, is frequently left to her own devices. Generally, these range from appropriate signals (opening the teapot lid) and passive actions (rudimentary hand gestures, and desperate, pleading looks around the room) to direct communication (going up and asking someone, anyone) and all-out declarations of independence (filling up the teapot herself).
Merely so she can partake in the simple pleasure of infusing tea leaves in hot water and sipping the wonderful, aromatic, extraordinary result, preferably while her dining companions are guzzling down innumerable gallons of coffee.
In this particular instance, device #3 won the day, but #4 was only seconds away.
As far as I am aware, the international signal for tea instead of coffee is still a teaspoon in one's cup, and an open teapot lid still says, "More hot water, please". It's a small ask, but if serving staff and managers make the effort to infuse themselves with these time-honoured traditions, I guarantee it will make the tea drinkers among us very, very happy.
Despite its "unparalleled and enduring popularity" and reputation as "the world's most prevalent hot beverage", tea has remained, in many ways, a secondary commodity. You would think that given the diverse menu on offer and the much-promoted medicinal benefits, tea would be considered of at least equal importance to its caffeine counterpart. However, in many locales, tea drinkers are regularly overlooked, sometimes even ignored and completely forgotten about, as servers tend to the coffee drinkers.
As a part-time devotea, I have personally been on the receiving end of such treatment. That I survived is not the point. That it happens at all, is. And it was never demonstrated better than on our recent visit to a caffeine-beverage installation with one of our friends.
Put simply, we were amazed and a little embarrassed by the attention we received compared to our friend, who, more often than not, is frequently left to her own devices. Generally, these range from appropriate signals (opening the teapot lid) and passive actions (rudimentary hand gestures, and desperate, pleading looks around the room) to direct communication (going up and asking someone, anyone) and all-out declarations of independence (filling up the teapot herself).
Merely so she can partake in the simple pleasure of infusing tea leaves in hot water and sipping the wonderful, aromatic, extraordinary result, preferably while her dining companions are guzzling down innumerable gallons of coffee.
In this particular instance, device #3 won the day, but #4 was only seconds away.
As far as I am aware, the international signal for tea instead of coffee is still a teaspoon in one's cup, and an open teapot lid still says, "More hot water, please". It's a small ask, but if serving staff and managers make the effort to infuse themselves with these time-honoured traditions, I guarantee it will make the tea drinkers among us very, very happy.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Talking to sausages
Who knew that all my attempts to talk to sausages would finally pay off?! If you haven't noticed, the sound that sausages make sometimes while they are cooking is a lot like some birds when they are chatting away up in the trees. Okay, so just the sparrows and some finch-type birds, but what's critical here is that after honing my skills talking to sausages, I tried them out on some little birdies in our backyard. And lo and behold, not only did a few of them stop and look my way, but one of them actually began to hop in my direction. He seemed quite responsive, staying within a few feet for a good 15 seconds or so before taking flight. Does it mean anything? Probably not, but at least if anyone hears me talking to sausages, I will know it's not as crazy as it seems!
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
When doubt comes to visit
Some days, it's simply too hard to feel certain. Sometimes, it's too easy to lose momentum. Some opportunities too quickly escape our grasp. Some people make us feel less than we are. Some things seem truly impossible. Some words present insurmountable obstacles. Some roads go nowhere, fast.
What to do when doubt comes to visit.
Well, there are experts with answers, who tell us what we need to do, who hand out all sorts of tips, tricks and tools.
There are friends who listen, places to air our concerns, ways to pretend it's not happening, avenues that promise exactly the right potions.
There are endless distractions, other people's lives to get lost in, other people's success to measure against, moments of blinding brilliance.
There are quick fixes, false senses of security, band aids.
And then there is me.
When doubt comes to visit, I smile and say that it has come at exactly the right time. That it has made me stop and think, reflect, consider why it's there, decide on the next step, find a way out. That it has done its job and now it's time for it to leave.
When doubt comes to visit, I say 'thank you', ask it to come back again sometime, and then I close the door.
What to do when doubt comes to visit.
Well, there are experts with answers, who tell us what we need to do, who hand out all sorts of tips, tricks and tools.
There are friends who listen, places to air our concerns, ways to pretend it's not happening, avenues that promise exactly the right potions.
There are endless distractions, other people's lives to get lost in, other people's success to measure against, moments of blinding brilliance.
There are quick fixes, false senses of security, band aids.
And then there is me.
When doubt comes to visit, I smile and say that it has come at exactly the right time. That it has made me stop and think, reflect, consider why it's there, decide on the next step, find a way out. That it has done its job and now it's time for it to leave.
When doubt comes to visit, I say 'thank you', ask it to come back again sometime, and then I close the door.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Staying on track
G'day fellow freelancers and home office folk! How's your day going? Getting lots of work done? Staying on top of the pile? Avoiding distractions like the phone, emails and blogging?
Me, too. Except for getting work done, staying on top of the pile, and, obviously, blogging. But that's okay; I think I've found a way to fix that.
For the last while, I've been hanging out in coffee shops to get stuff done. Hey, it worked for J. K. Rowling! And it works for me, except for two parts - the time it takes to get there and back, and the amount of coffee I drink while I'm there. Of course, part of the attraction is that there are people around, and although they're probably not watching me work, it feels a little as if they are, which is reason enough to keep me happily working away.
Today, however, I couldn't get to any of my favourite haunts and was finding it tough to stay focused and be productive. Until I remembered something my dad said way back: "Work as if someone is watching". Ooh! Now, that struck a chord. And, other than this blog entry - which, technically, is work since I am a writer and pen my posts in 20 minutes or less - I've stayed right on track.
So, if you're having trouble staying on your track today, try working as if someone is watching. It's as addictive as coffee!
Me, too. Except for getting work done, staying on top of the pile, and, obviously, blogging. But that's okay; I think I've found a way to fix that.
For the last while, I've been hanging out in coffee shops to get stuff done. Hey, it worked for J. K. Rowling! And it works for me, except for two parts - the time it takes to get there and back, and the amount of coffee I drink while I'm there. Of course, part of the attraction is that there are people around, and although they're probably not watching me work, it feels a little as if they are, which is reason enough to keep me happily working away.
Today, however, I couldn't get to any of my favourite haunts and was finding it tough to stay focused and be productive. Until I remembered something my dad said way back: "Work as if someone is watching". Ooh! Now, that struck a chord. And, other than this blog entry - which, technically, is work since I am a writer and pen my posts in 20 minutes or less - I've stayed right on track.
So, if you're having trouble staying on your track today, try working as if someone is watching. It's as addictive as coffee!
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Honest policies
It happened in the blink of an eye. Two people, two different responses. Only one a winner.
A man sat down at a table in a coffee shop. A few minutes later, a young lady walked up, bent down, picked up a few coins off the floor behind the man, and said, "Excuse me, sir. It seems you are throwing your money away." She then put the coins on the edge of the table, he thanked her, she walked away.
Another few minutes passed by before one of the store employees walked up, bent down, picked up what appeared to be another coin off the floor behind the man, and ... walked toward the back of the shop, admiring her booty and slipping it into her pocket.
Okay, so a lot of presumptions in this story - that the money actually belonged to the man, that it was money the employee found - but it does bring to mind two different notions: 'finders keepers, losers weepers' and 'honesty is the best policy'.
Which one do you subscribe to?
A man sat down at a table in a coffee shop. A few minutes later, a young lady walked up, bent down, picked up a few coins off the floor behind the man, and said, "Excuse me, sir. It seems you are throwing your money away." She then put the coins on the edge of the table, he thanked her, she walked away.
Another few minutes passed by before one of the store employees walked up, bent down, picked up what appeared to be another coin off the floor behind the man, and ... walked toward the back of the shop, admiring her booty and slipping it into her pocket.
Okay, so a lot of presumptions in this story - that the money actually belonged to the man, that it was money the employee found - but it does bring to mind two different notions: 'finders keepers, losers weepers' and 'honesty is the best policy'.
Which one do you subscribe to?