I am making a brave, bold attempt to work outside today. This may sound pleasant, but in fact trying to work outside in October is not the same as working outside in June. First of all, there are the bugs. Swarms of box elder bugs, bugs that look like ladybugs but aren�t (or so I�m told), the last of the yellow jackets. Then there are the things that fall from the sky: leaves, apples, acorns, walnuts (I�m really not sure how the latter are landing on my balcony, as the nearest walnut tree I can find is at least 100 feet away.) Finally there are the neighbor�s children and friends who, being profoundly infected with exuberance due to the spectacular weather and the promise of a three-day weekend, appear to be holding a screaming contest on their front lawn. With a megaphone. For the last half an hour.

Actually, it is fairly entertaining. At least they sound happy. As opposed to AJ�s screaming in the supermarket today, which prompted unrequested advice from several shoppers and got me the fastest bagging job you�ve ever seen. This latter feat was especially remarkable since the bagger seemed to feel it was necessary to bag each item individually (does this not defeat the purpose of using bags?).

Latent hostility aside, I�m actually looking forward to sitting down to work this afternoon, as starting a new chapter means a plunge into some new archival material. I�m currently reading assorted articles from the Los Angeles Times between the 1890s and about 1930 or so. Frequently the articles I�m looking for are lumped together on a page of women�s activities, which for the most part covers club meetings and charities. In 1921 the Friday Morning Club gave a luncheon where several women offered advice on how to get through the Christmas season, including the following (as printed in the Los Angeles Times on December 18, 1921):

� Santa Claus has no commercial standing.

� Protect yourself from annual swaps.

� If you make your Christmas shopping and giving a grievous task instead of a rare pleasure, it is your own fault if you do not have a �Merrie Christmas.�

� No one has a right to expect anything on Christmas Day. Everything should be a happy surprise.

� Women are to blame if Christmas is commercial. Men and children are guiltless and guileless. A man will artlessly buy something red for his wife if she is in mourning, a pink plush manicure case for grandma and a knife for the baby; but he is happy over it.

� Men try their best to develop a sense of humor in us women at Christmas, but we insist on weeping over their sins and spoil the day.

� Don�t give all your coarse gifts to coarse people and fine gifts to fine people who have more fine things than they know what to do with.

� Don�t be sensible and obnoxious, but be a little frivolous and gay on this one day of the year.

� Try not to contribute to next years bonfire. Women need less bric-a-brac to dust and more joy to make dusting endurable.

� Give at least one gift to someone who is not poor, but who never dreamed of getting a gift from you and then don�t give again next Christmas to that same person. Find another one whom you may surprise.

Clearly the writers of these maxims have never met my family.

0 people said it like they meant it