Is touch-typing relevant in the 'i' universe?

You know, at one time there must’ve been dozens of companies making buggy whips. And I'll bet the last company around was the one that made the best goddamn buggy whip you ever saw. Now how would you have liked to have been a stockholder in that company? Other People’s Money (1991)

How do you know when a skill is becoming obsolete?

How many of you can touch-type? I don’t mean pecking around the keyboard whether fast or slow; I mean always keeping your index fingers hovered over the ‘home keys’, not looking at the keyboard and cracking out 60 to 90 words per minute using *the correct fingers*.

Touch typing emerged the the late 1880s as a classic before our time technology skill. The need for speed, it seems, led to the development of the QWERTY keyboard which laid out keys in a way that didn’t cause ‘finger jams’ in common English words and the development of a way of typing that increased speed, decreased movement and enabled the typist to say “look! No eyes!”. Classic ergonomic efficiency.

We’ve kept the QWERTY keyboard but most people I ask *say* they can touch-type but really they hunt and peck with one two or five fingers or get confused if they need to use anything other than their thumbs. Has the need for speed and efficiency really diminished over time?

At a recent meeting of middle-aged mothers (AKA bookgroup) we were tut-tutting the demise of proper touch-typing lessons. Why don’t schools teach touch typing? With a stick wrapping the knuckles of poor typists until they reach 60 words per minute? Oh, we had all tried the touch-typing computer programs. I even bought a Spongebob Squarepants version to entice my kids. But we all felt there was no substitution for sitting in front of an IBM Golfball typewriter with a dour lady calling out letters and covering our hands with a cloth.

I am a touch typist who suffered under the stick of a strict typing teacher. I proudly type FAST and earnt extra cash at uni typing up other people’s assignments. Over the past few weeks I consciously considered how much touch-typing I still did. I typed at work (emails, mostly, and the occasional report), home (again emails, mostly), on my phone (texting). The vast majority of my typing was short bursts on my phone or iPad with texting or facebook or quick email messages.

And then it hit me. I was consciously looking for opportunities to use my skill because most devices make in near impossible to touch-type.

Touch-typing is fine if in front of a computer like I am now but on a phone, tablet computer or anything with a non-tactile keyboard or too small to use anything but thumbs then touch-typing seems completely irrelevant. Thumb typing becomes a very important skill – especially being able to type an ‘m’ on a touch screen without deleting several previous letters (or is this only me?) – and a lot of the touch screens I use really only have room for 2-3 fingers at a time.

My 11yo son claims to have learnt touch-typing at school. It’s not touch-typing. I’m not sure what it is, but it is fast. Fast enough to punch out a message and turn off the computer/ipad/phone/video game before his mother can walk from one side of the room to the other to check what he is up to.

So is touch typing a critical skill that is not taught *properly* to our children, or is it an obsolete skill to be abandoned in favour of ergonomic thumb typing? Before you answer, spend some time examining your own typing world and that of your children. I certainly couldn’t find too many devices with the room for all 10 phalanges.

Wisdom on Wednesday: William Shakespeare

Is Mr Shakespeare is right? Do we enjoy our holidays all the more because they are a contrast to our regular day-to-day life? This quote suggests that if we spent all year lazing around, taking long walks and enjoying relaxed, quality time with our family and friends, we'd soon bore of that.

Or would we?  I'd like to give it a try.

www.beforeourtime.com will be taking a short break while I lap up some of the holiday spirit. I have a huge pile of books to read, a long list of movies to watch and I'm hoping there will be some of that elusive Melbourne warm weather to relish.

What are your plans for the holiday season?

The ancient gift of shortbread

In my experience, there is one present that is never put to the back of a cupboard, exchanged or re-gifted, and that is the gift of some home-made shortbread. Very few people can resist its sinful buttery crumble.

Shortbread it thought to have its origins before our time in medieval Scotland with a twice-baked biscuit bread made from left-over bread dough. This item was dusted with sugar and spices and hardened into a sweet biscuit. Over time butter was substituted for the yeast. This created the crumbly (short) texture we know and love!

Butter and sugar however, were expensive items and shortbread was only eaten in most households as a luxury on very special occasions such as Christmas, Hogmanay (New Year's Eve) or weddings.

Nowadays, in our kitchen, we use an ancient Scottish secret family recipe (i.e. I copied it out of my Mum's recipe folder). Details can be found here.

The basis for all shortbread is three ingredients: flour, butter and sugar (usually in the ratio of 1 part sugar, 2 parts butter, 3 parts flour). However, there are a number of different variations as you can see from this page in Lady Hackett's Household Guide (1940):

Plus a variety of flavourings can be added. According to an article by Camis Davis at Saveur.com, "Queen Victoria liked hers seasoned with salt; classic shortbread from the town of Goosnargh in Lancashire is flavored with coriander and caraway; shortbread from Pitcaithly, in Scotland, is made with orange peel and almonds; the Scottish baking company Walkers, founded in 1898, has a ginger version of it."


The shape is traditionally a round, often made by pressing the dough into a carved circular mold.  This creates triangular wedges which can be snapped apart.

We take a less traditional approach to the shape - creating Christmas-themed shapes such as angels, bells, trees and stars. However, call us old-fashioned, when it comes to flavourings we stick to making the unadulterated version.

Bagged up with the addition of a ribbon and gift tag, they made the perfect small item for my daughter to give to her school friends.

How much do you love shortbread?

Wisdom on Wednesday: Theodore Geisel

Following on from the theme of Wisdom on Wednesday last week, I think this Dr Seuss quote sums up many of our feelings at this time of the year!

In our household, the calendar seems to go: August - September - December. October and November may as well not exist as they flash past in an instant.

And then, when December arrives we suddenly realise that all the things that we had planned to do before December haven't been done!

I often wonder if this a universal feeling or one particular to the Southern hemisphere where everything (schools, dancing studios, sporting clubs etc) operates on a calendar year? Plus, here in Australia lots of families take holidays during January, so there is an impetus in the workplace to get things done before Christmas.


Does everything rush to the end of the calendar year in your part of the world?

Wisdom on Wednesday: EB White

(Quote from The Second Tree from the Corner (1954) by E.B.White)

My daughter reminded me this morning that tomorrow (1 December) is the start of Advent, at least as far as the opening of countdown calendars for Christmas is concerned. I think, strictly speaking, that the various religious definitions of Advent are quite different, and it usually commences on the fourth Sunday before Christmas.

Anyway, in some respects this morning's declaration caught me by surprise: "What? Already?" and in other ways I've had a lot of warning.  Shops have had Christmas goods on the shelves since early October, decorations have been hanging in public spaces for weeks, Christmas catalogues were in mailboxes at the start of November and I've even heard the carols muzak in stores.

I wonder if this extended warm-up to Christmas (the 'wrapping' referred to by E.B.White?) takes some of the gloss off the Festive Season itself. By the time the 25th of December comes around we've already eaten more than our fair share of fruit mince pies.

Before our time, Christmas wasn't anticipated quite so early in the year. 

What do you think is a reasonable lead-up time for Christmas? Should there be declared limit? e.g NO tinsel before 1 December?

Blending in by standing out

Back before our time towards the end of the 19th Century, military uniforms were traditionally brightly coloured. (Think bright red jackets worn by horsemen charging across green fields with their muskets at the ready.)

These distinctive forms of uniform had a number of strategic purposes: it allowed generals (or whoever was in charge) to see at a glance where their own troops were, it stopped soldiers from unintentionally slaying one of their own, and in certain cases where a particular regiment had a fearsome reputation, the mere sight of their distinctive colours could be enough to send terror through the enemy, forcing a retreat. (See an interesting history of military camouflage clothing, here.)

However time marched on, military technology improved, and with the development of weapons with longer ranges and greater accuracy (e.g. rifles, machine guns, grenades, missiles) it was not advantageous to signpost to the enemy exactly where you were.

So, what we now think of as regular army dress (khaki and camouflage) was developed as a way of disguising personnel in the field. The mottled colouration of garments is designed to blend with the natural background and it is available in a variety of colourways to blend with different environments.

However one instance where it would have the opposite effect is if you were to wear full camouflage gear and walk through a busy urban area. In fact, far from blending in, it would probably rouse a great deal of suspicion.

It is one of the ironies of the present day that one of the best ways to blend in, in almost any circumstance, is to don a garment which was originally designed to make you stand out - the high-visibility fluoro vest.

Fluorescent clothing was originally a military development (during World War II) designed to protect soldiers from unintentional friendly fire. Now, high-visibility clothing is worn by everyone from post delivery workers to road crew, cyclists to removalists.  If you want to look like you have an 'official' reason to be somewhere, put on a fluoro vest and you can walk around unaccosted.

In an article in The Guardian in 2005, Jon Ronson examined this phenomenon:

"So maybe ubiquity is to blame. Or perhaps, as dazzling as high-visibility clothing is, even more compelling is the public's desire not to notice those people who scurry around at our feet, fixing holes, mending tracks, cleaning up after us. We trust them and we don't want to think about them. This is how Bryan Ferry's son Otis and the other fox hunting aficionados got into the House of Commons to disrupt a debate last year. They put on fluorescent jackets and told the first policeman they met that they were "going to inspect the electrics". The policeman shrugged and waved them on.

The surveillance specialist Peter Jenkins - who teaches private investigators how to follow people without being spotted - is a fan of the fluorescent jacket, too. He says that if you're observing a target in a rural environment, use hedges and ditches and trees. But if you want to be invisible in a city, just put on a fluorescent jacket and sit in the passenger seat of a transit van, or queue up at a telephone box. (Remember to turn off your mobile phone first.)"

I drove past a neighbour's house a few days ago where two guys wearing high-vis tops were filling an unmarked truck with furniture and effects from the house. They (the neighbours) may have actually been being robbed, but the wearing of the high-vis clothing reassured me that a legitimate house move was taking place.

But was this a fair assumption?

According to an item on the BBC website, thieves just this month targeted homes in an English housing estate while clean-up from a flood was occurring:

"Walsall Council leader Mike Bird said thieves had been spotted wearing high-visibility vests to blend in with council workers helping with the clear up."

We rarely give a second glance to 'fluoro-collar workers'. Add an ID on a lanyard round their necks and we'd never question their legitimacy. 

But the flip side of this, is that we also don't notice those workers. They are, in fact, rendered invisible by their visibility and we don't necessarily see them as individuals doing a valued job.

UK photographer, Stephen Gill explored this concept in his 2005 book and exhibition, Invisible which contained photographs of all those people who, by the wearing of high-visibility clothing were rendered invisible to the general public. He was inspired by his own experience as a photographer. He had discovered that by wearing a fluoro vest he drew very little attention to himself when carrying a camera, far less than if he wasn't wearing one.

Do you notice the 'fluoro-collar' workers? Is it time for a new form of high-visibility?

Wisdom on Wednesday: Sydney J. Harris

There's a reason the lead-up to Christmas is known as 'the silly season'.

There's the mad rush in lunch breaks, running around the shops getting all the Christmas shopping done in between impending deadlines at work, and a hectic schedule of social engagements.

And then if there are kids in the household, you do all of the above...and schedule in end-of-year concerts, and school cocktail parties, and gifts for teachers, and mailing letters off to Santa.

I'm constantly checking the notes on the fridge to see which child needs a plate of food for what function, what costumes are needed where and when, what parties are to be attended (both adults and kids)...my head spins.

The end result is that most adults just scrape themselves through to Christmas Day, collapsing into a semi-comatose state on the sofa after lunch.

The quote above is right...it's exactly at this time of year that you need to relax, but the trick is to squeeze in 'relaxation' time that delivers the maximum benefit in the minimum amount of time. 

Although on the face of it, it doesn't sound 'relaxing', I find that a Zumba class can totally reset my frame of mind.  It's a quick hour at the gym, and I feel so much better afterwards.  But I know that for many people, that would not seem relaxing at all!

What's your relaxation activity of choice when you don't have time to relax?

TXT-SPK

Watching today's teenagers communicate via on-line messaging or texting on their mobile phones is like being dropped behind enemy lines in a country where you don't speak the native tongue. You're not quite sure what they're saying, but you know they're probably discussing you, and that if you don't keep your wits about you, it could all turn quite ugly.

It can be a completely foreign language.

In teen-texting, spelling and grammar are tossed out the window, clarity is sacrificed in the quest for speed,  and some words are appropriated for uses they were never intended for. Acronyms reign supreme.

It's almost a form of code.  But is this a new phenomenon?

During World War II, before our time, defence personnel and their sweethearts used acronyms in correspondence.

According to an entry at everything2, the World War II acronyms developed as a way of expressing endearments with extreme brevity (e.g. for use in telegrams) or as a 'secret' language between the lovers. The words could be concealed in sentences, or written across the back of the envelope.

Although some of these examples are well-known now, I wonder if the parents of that generation (and the correspondence censors) were as much in the dark about the meaning of BURMA, SIAM and ENGLAND as today's parents are about PSOS or ROFLMAO?

Some of the less saucy World War II examples are:

• ITALY: I trust and love you
• HOLLAND: Hope our love lasts and never dies
• SWALK: Sealed with a loving kiss

 And my favourite (although a little racier):

• NORWICH: 'Nickers off ready when I come home   

The now widely used acronyms SNAFU and FUBAR are also thought to have had their origins among American military personnel in the Second World War.

But the fun didn't stop with the Silent Generation. The Baby Boomers and their Generation X children have (among a multitude of other language tweaking practices) created a treasure-trove of acronyms to describe demographics and lifestyle choices:

• DINKS: Double income, no kids
• YUPPIES: Young upwardly-mobile professionals 
• LOMBARD: Lots of money but a real dickhead 

And the one which always makes me LOL (laugh out loud):

• SITCOM: Single income, two children, outrageous mortgage 

The corporate world has also weighed in with examples such as:

• SMART goals: Specific, measurable, agreed, realistic, time-bound goals 
• SWOT analysis: Strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, threats analysis 

Imagine these in context:

Q: Where's Bruce?
A: He's in the stationery cupboard, doing a SWOT on the supplies situation. He plans to set some SMARTS regarding paperclips, envelopes and fluoro marker pens.

Most acronyms seem to have originated with the Brits or the Americans, however I did come across one which the good people at BBC' s h2g2 attributed to Australian origins. We Aussies have the dubious honour of coming up with the following acronym to describe someone with an elevated opinion of him/herself:

• FIGJAM: F*** I'm good, just ask me

Is coded language used in your world?

Wisdom on Wednesday: Eudora Welty

Way back in the dark ages when I was at university, (not quite before our time, but in the next postcode) I spent three months in the United Kingdom on an extended holiday.

I have a thick photo album from that time - one of those horrible ones where you stick the photos to the pages and then smooth the clear plastic back over them.  It contains around 250 photos and I often get it out and flick through the pages. 

A single photo of two of my friends in a pub in Oxford reminds me of the day we all met up there from our various, separate travels. Three photos of Stonehenge prompt memories of the day I spent there with my Aunt and Uncle, and how it was the winter solstice (one of the only days of the year you were allowed to go right into the stones).

For three months, 250 photos is not a huge number of snapshots but, like the quote above says, they captured enough of the experience to lock it into my memory, ready to be triggered when I view the album.

Fast-forward 20-something years and I returned from a recent (three week) holiday with over 3,000 photos. Digital camera technology has made it just too easy to photograph every place, every occasion, every person from every angle imaginable.

But does that 'stop the moment running away'? Or is, in fact, the moment running away before we even realise it is there, as we're too focused on the digital screen?

Sometimes I have to remind myself to put.down.the.camera and experience what is right there in front of me.

Is life what happens when you're not looking through the viewfinder?

Tips from the archives: Boiling an egg

"Have ready a saucepan of boiling water; put the eggs into it gently with a spoon, letting the spoon touch the bottom of the saucepan before it is withdrawn, that the egg may not fall, and consequently crack. For those who like eggs lightly boiled, 3 minutes will be found sufficient; 3 3/4 to 4 minutes will be ample time to set the white nicely; and, if liked hard, 6 to 7 minutes will not be found too long."

Mrs Beeton's Household Management by

Isabella Beeton. First published 1861

Everyone knows how to boil an egg, right?

Right? 

Apparently, not.

I'd always assumed there was just one way to boil an egg, and that was my way.  But watching my husband boil eggs this morning, I realised he uses a completely different method.

So I consulted the oracle of domesticity, Mrs Beeton, and it seems she sides with him.  While I had been labouring under the misapprehension that eggs were placed into cold water and then brought to the boil before starting the timer, Mrs Beeton and my husband put the eggs into water that is already boiling.

What do you think? Start from cold, or drop into boiling?

The Triangle of Happiness

In the late 18th Century, before our time, my ancestors mostly lived in small villages across Scotland. They would have worked within walking distance of their homes and shopped for anything they didn't grow or produce themselves at the local village shops.

Their work/sleep/shop triangle would have been very small and therefore, according to Robert D. Putnam, author of Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community (2000) they were happier than if they had a large triangle between those points.

Putnam, who is a Harvard political scientist and Professor of Public Policy, is credited with the 'Triangle of Happiness' theory.

Putnam likes to imagine that there is a triangle, its points comprising where you sleep, where you work, and where you shop. In a canonical English village, or in a university town, the sides of that triangle are very short: a five-minute walk from one point to the next. In many American cities, you can spend an hour or two travelling each side. “You live in Pasadena, work in North Hollywood, shop in the Valley,” Putnam said. “Where is your community?” The smaller the triangle, the happier the human, as long as there is social interaction to be had. In that kind of life, you have a small refrigerator, because you can get to the store quickly and often. By this logic, the bigger the refrigerator, the lonelier the soul.

'There and Back Again.The soul of the commuter' by Nick Paumgarten. New Yorker, April 16 2007

Putnam points out however, that a small triangle equals a happier human only when social interaction is also involved. Reducing your triangle to one of working from your bedroom and ordering all the groceries on-line for delivery would be counter-productive to your happiness!

My local shops are walking distance, but getting to and from my workplace and my kids' school (and their various after-school activities) requires the car.  Some days my life as a chauffeur looks more like the Oblong of Exasperation than the Triangle of Happiness, but that is the reality of the life we have chosen to lead, and the key is to minimise the angst of the time spent in the car. 

I've tried a number of ways of making time in the car productive - listening to audio books, brushing up on a foreign language using audio programs and if the children are in the car, using the time to talk about their days. The most enjoyable activity when it's just me however, is to ensure the car radio is on a quality (usually ABC) talk radio station so that my time in the car is informative and/or entertaining. 

My 'commute' is under 10 kilometres, which is not much at all. However, a recent Federal Government report Population Growth, Jobs Growth and Commuting Flows in Melbourne, predicted ''an increase in journeys to work involving a road distance of more than 30 kilometres and an increase in the average commuting distance'' as the city is expected to add another million residents by 2025.

That's a really large Triangle of Happiness/Unhappiness for a significant proportion of our city's population, and the challenge ahead will be to try to create more jobs on the outskirts of the city - thereby reducing the size of those triangles.


What geometric shape is your work/sleep/shop life in?

Wisdom on Wednesday: Samuel Ullman

 

Ten random tips to foster enthusiasm

1. Make time for friends and family
2. Challenge your brain
3. Always have a project on the go
4. Switch around your exercise routine
5. Recognise and celebrate milestones, however small
6. Have future plans to look forward to
7. Learn new skills
8. Join an organisation or group
9. Create and maintain family traditions
10. Find ways to help others

What tips would you add?

Tips from the archives: Handling good china

"Always allow good china to cool after being washed in hot water and before stacking the pieces together. Prevents glaze from cracking."

The New Idea, 7 October 1959, p.44

The glazes used on everyday crockery now are a lot more durable than those from before our time, but reading this tip from the archives made me wonder whether there are some 'rules' that apply to putting china into the dishwasher today.

I checked our dishwasher manual, and it says that most modern china patterns are dishwasher safe. As most dishwashers operate with water heated to somewhere between 40 and 70 degrees C, modern crockery is designed to withstand the heating and cooling without damage. Heating the water to these levels helps to dissolve the stains and also disinfects the dishes.

However, the manual also states that antique items, hand-painted china, items with patterns painted over the glaze or ones with gold rims, may be more sensitive to machine washing, and that if there is any doubt to wash them by hand.

Interestingly, the manual also says not to empty the dishwasher immediately after washing. It recommends opening the door slightly to allow steam to escape and waiting until the dishes are warm to the touch before unloading.  In a  modern day update to today's tip from the archives, this is not to save the glaze from cracking, but to ensure that the dishes are dried properly.

Do you have any china-handling habits to share?

Wisdom on Wednesday: Eleanor Roosevelt

Is this right?

Was it perhaps more true of women in Eleanor Roosevelt's time when it wasn't always so usual for women to display their strength publicly?

I do know several women who, in dealing with adversity in their lives, have shown incredible dignity and strength of character, but then I also know some women who show their strength every day, not just in times of crisis.

What do you think?

Good things come to those who wait

There's a school of thought that we do our children a disservice if we don't teach them to wait for things.

Citing the famous Stanford Marshmallow Experiment, Michael Grose (an Australian leading parent educator, parent coach, writer and speaker on parenting and family matters) suggested in one of his blog posts that it's important, "to encourage your children to delay gratification, practise self-discipline and build character along the way."

The Stanford Marshmallow Experiment was conducted by a psychologist called Walter Mischel in the late 1960s.  Pre-schoolers were given a marshmallow and told they could have it, but if they waited 20 minutes they could have both the first marshmallow, and a second marshmallow. About two-thirds of the kids either ate the first marshmallow straight away, or tried to resist, but gave in within the 20 minutes. The remaining third waited the full time and got their two marshmallows. Many years later Mischel followed up his subjects, who were then in high school, and discovered, among other things, that the children from the first group had experienced more behavioural problems at school and home, had attained lower SAT scores than the second group and had struggled more with friendships.

Mischel's conclusion based on hours of observations was that the delayed gratification kids possessed coping techniques to use with their 'hot emotion' (i.e the desire for the marshmallow) such as distracting themselves from the object of desire, which they then applied to other stressful situations in their lives.

However, in the interesting article in The New Yorker magazine about this topic, Mischel acknowledges that the challenge is to turn some of those tricks into habits.

“This is where your parents are important,” Mischel says. “Have they established rituals that force you to delay on a daily basis? Do they encourage you to wait? And do they make waiting worthwhile?”

So let's just say that's what we've been doing here at beforeourtime.com. We've been encouraging you to wait...

and wait...

...for us to start posting again.

And now we're very pleased to announce that we intend to make the waiting worthwhile.

Not only have we given the blog a bit of a makeover, we also have an interesting and thought-provoking line-up of posts to come. There will be:

• Our usual erudite and informative posts examining aspects of life pre-1970 and ascertaining their relevance (or not!) to our 21st Century lives
• 'Wisdom on Wednesday' - wise words from the past
• 'Tips from the Archives' (every Sunday) - hints and tips for everything from stain removal, pest control and food storage to etiquette, relationships and time management
• Plus posts examining the changes in corporate life since 1970...for better or worse?

We're very excited to be back on deck and look forward to you joining us for the journey.  Check the sidebar on the right for all the ways you can follow us (Google Friends, Twitter, email...) or just stop by the blog the old-fashioned way by typing beforeourtime.com into the address bar of your browser. If you're a Facebook user, you can 'Like' us by searching for the 'Before Our Time' page, and you'll be notified of any new posts in your News Feed.

For those of you visiting Before Our Time for the first time - welcome!  Please, browse through some of our past posts.

So, are you pleased we made you wait?

Quinces re-heated

As it is annual quince-paste-making day in our household, I thought I'd re-heat an old post! Enjoy.

"QUINCE PASTE If the full flavour of the quinces be desired, stew them sufficiently tender to press through a sieve in the prepared juice of page 456; otherwise in just water enough to about three parts cover them; when they are soft quite through lift them out, let them cool and then pass them through a sieve; reduce them to a dry paste over a very clear fire and stir them constantly; then weigh the fruit and mix it with an equal proportion of pounded sugar or sugar boiled to candy height, we find the effect nearly the same whichever method be pursued and stir the paste without intermission until it is again so dry as to quit the pan and adhere to the spoon in one large ball; press it into shallow pans or dishes; cut it as soon as cold into small squares and should they seem to require it, dry them with a very gentle degree of heat, and when they are again cold store them in tin cases with well dried foolscap paper between them: the paste may be moulded when more convenient and kept until it is wanted for table in a very dry place. In France where the fruit is admirably confected the pate de coigns or quince paste is somewhat less boiled than we have directed and dried afterwards in the sun or in an extremely gentle oven in square tin frames about an inch and a half deep placed upon clean slates"

Modern cookery for private families reduced to a system of easy practice, in a series of carefully tested receipts, in which the principles of Baron Liebig and other eminent writers have been as much as possible applied and explained By Eliza Acton, Published by Longman, Green, Longman, Roberts, and Green, 1864 (via Google books)

There's been a lot of talk lately about eating local foods, and eating them seasonally. And when you do so, it creates a certain rhythm to the year: berry desserts in summer, root vegetable stews in winter, fresh shelled peas in spring.

However, the canny cook from before our time also knew that there was a rhythm to the pickling, bottling and preserving of these foods, which allowed variety on the dinner table all year round.

Tomato-sauce-making-day for instance, continues to be a tradition among some Italo-Australian families I know. Held towards the end of the summer when the tomatoes are cheap and plentiful, a day of chopping and boiling in the company of friends and family creates a store of pasta sauce to carry the family through the year ahead.

In my own family home, I remember the citrus season was marked by a day of chopping and peeling to make jars and jars of marmalade which would be consumed on toast throughout the year and also given as gifts to the less citricly-endowed (yes, I know citricly is not really a word...just indulge me.)

At this time of year in Southern Australia, the rhythm of seasonality dictates that it is quince paste making time.

This is the second year that I have made quince paste. Last year's didn't quite set like it should have, but I now have a legion of fans for my legendary "quince jam". In fact, one friend who I have given several containers to has begged that I make it in exactly the same way this year. If only it were that simple. She seems to think I have some control over the process!

Megan has already posted about her quince paste making experiences and I use the same basic recipe that she did.

One of the great delights of making quince-paste on a cold early winter's afternoon is that it gives you an excuse to loiter around the house. Oh no, I can't go out...I have to stir my quince paste. And the reward for judicious stirring is watching the fruit turn from a light flesh to a deep red colour. Made to perfection it should be as glossy and reflective as rubies.

There is a certain magic in turning a couple of kilos of furry fruit into a delicious dark treat to be enjoyed with cheese the year round, and given to friends as gifts.

What seasonal food preparation days mark your yearly calendar?