My brave new kitchen

Last year, we remodeled our kitchen, replacing cabinets and appliances that were 30 years old.
Nearly a year later, I still have moments of amazement that I can see the backyard through the window over the sink (previously the sink faced a wall); I can load and unload the dishwasher directly from the sink and into the cabinets (previously the dishwasher was a portable version housed in the laundry room); I have seasonings at my fingertips when cooking as the spice cabinet is installed by the cooktop; I can see into the dining room instead of staring at yet another wall; I have enough counter space to actually prepare two food items at once; and I can store the cookware and bakeware I own in cabinets without relying on basement space and laundry room shelves.
But one of the greatest sources of amazement is the brains of appliances bought in 2007 compared to 1976. My microwave/convection oven is smarter than I am, and the cooktop is no slouch either.
The microwave knows the difference between a canned and frozen vegetable, and the convection oven can keep track of time left to bake even while a separate timer is counting down minutes for a boiling pot of pasta.
I am particularly fond of the "editor" that apparently lives inside the cooktop. It flashes a capital H to signal that the burner remains really hot, then changes it to lowercase h when it starts to cool down.
According to a recent press release I received, appliances with brains are the wave of the future.
"In Italy your dishwasher may call you at work to let you know that it has sprang a leak…but not to worry, it has already informed the service company and they will be out between 9 and 12 on Tuesday.
"In Norway you are caught behind a slow moving elk herd and will be 30 minutes late…so you call your oven to recalibrate the cooking time on your roast to be done at 8:30.
"In Korea…the refrigerator has taken inventory and has placed an order for all pre-programmed items to be replenished automatically with an online grocery service. It has also ordered a few additional items that will be needed for tonight’s dinner party.
"In Germany…the fully automated coffee machine can make your favorite cappuccino to your specific taste as well as all the other members of the family.
"And in the US…cooking is as simple as 1..2..3 with your pre-programmed oven…you simply choose from the menu, fish, beef or fowl…punch in the weight, as well as the time you would like to serve and then just press “OK”…you are now a gourmet chef all with the single touch of your finger."
This release titled "15 Minutes into the Future" by Kevin Henry reminded me that in just a few years, high-tech appliances will put my current kitchen to shame.
Henry went on to say that the next wave of microwaves will have a scanner to read the package of chili or popcorn and then preset itself for operation. "The family calendar on the refrigerator will update everyone’s calendar, from Mom's computer at work to sis’s cell phone to Dad’s PDA with all of today’s events, including soccer practice and dental appointments…It will remind Grandma to take her pills and Grandpa that he has a 6:30 Tee-Time.
"Shortly your kitchen will read your personal electro-magnetic field when you enter the kitchen and begin to brew your favorite beverage and update your portfolio, all while you wait for your bagel to be toasted.
"Whether this kitchen comes to pass, the modern kitchen will continue to be the heart, if not the hub, of the modern home, an essential element in our daily lives that touches and affects us both physically and emotionally, a place where we seek communion, rejuvenation, and sanctuary."
Some things will not change. In this high-tech future, the best part of the kitchen will still be the window with a view and the counter stools for conversation.
Even the smartest appliances can't take the place of friends and family.

Watch for Progress

Coming soon to your driveway, doorstep, honor box or convenience store will be an edition of The Mercury that does something we are often accused of ignoring: Celebrate the local economy with success stories.
Our staff, in an effort coordinated by Business Editor Michelle Karas, is currently working on stories and photographs for the 2008 Progress edition on local business and industry.
Each year, this section features industries that may have been around a while but rarely are in the news. We also do features on retail changes, new projects coming to the area, and businesses that offer leisure or recreational activities. Last year, for example, the construction of the Philadelphia Premium Outlets in Limerick was a cover story for Progress.
We have featured longstanding businesses like Longacre's Ice Cream in Bally and new ventures like the Tri-County Performing Arts Center. We have written about factories, high-tech service firms and auto dealerships. We strive for variety geographically throughout the region as well as types of businesses profiled.
As business editor, Karas does an outstanding job every week in coming up with local business features for the daily and Sunday Business sections. But, Progress gives us a chance to profile businesses about which we are curious.
The process becomes a discovery of hidden gems in our area's economy.
This year's Progress features a firm that installed foam insulation into 89,000 cement blocks in the construction of Lincoln Financial Field; a business headquarters modeled after a ski lodge; a recreation site where the top of the rock is the goal; and a plant that makes remedies for ailing horses.
Progress is coming. Don't miss it.

Borough doesn't have a prayer

I am a person of Christian faith.
I am a churchgoer, member of my church consistory, serve on a committee or two, bake cakes when I'm asked to, and give regularly to both church and charity.
I pray a lot. I start the day with a prayer asking to make good decisions and do the right things at home and work; I pray at night to offer thanks for the blessings of the day.
When I'm driving, if I'm stopped at the third red light in a row on High Street, I pray for patience. When the phone rings late at night, I pray that nothing bad has happened to one of the kids. When I see a headline or an error in the paper that I know will set the phones ringing, I pray for fortitude.
I pray for wisdom when facing a difficult decision; I pray for guidance when challenged.
But, I do not believe Pottstown Borough Council meetings should open with a prayer.
Prayer, to me, is a conversation with God. Sometimes, like in church, at a family dinner, or in informal gatherings, the "conversation" involves a group. But when prayer is used as part of a public proceeding, it takes on a different quality.
The offering of the prayer -- a statement that "we are religious" -- becomes the focus. The conversation becomes a speech.
The move to open council meetings with a prayer may seek to illustrate that the borough is a place of values.
A better illustration would be strengthening leadership and demonstrating values through deeds, not words.
I think that will be my prayer.

A likable candidate

I made a New Year's resolution in January to become better informed about national politics in this presidential election year. I haven't done much about it though.
I have a tendency, as I believe is the case with many voters, to form political opinions based on who I like or don't like. And those preferences have more to do with the sound of a person's voice or body language than with his or her track record.
Hillary Clinton is the ultimate example. One of the reporters in the newsroom was saying last night during Super Tuesday hype that no one he knows "likes" Clinton, yet she remains ahead in the polls and in the race for delegates.
Barack Obama has a higher "likable" factor, but the Internet-rumor crowd is fond of saying he is hiding something.
Here's where I feel guilty about the limited knowledge I have of the candidates' backgrounds and positions. I find myself favoring Obama because I don't like the sound of Clinton's voice. Or, if it's Obama and John McCain, I think McCain gets points for not looking emaciated.
All of which I believe makes me a bad citizen.
But take a step back ... if the person this nation elects as president is to represent us in the world and to accomplish results in Washington, don't we want that person to project confidence and to be well, "likable?"
In the wake of Super Tuesday, it appears that the Democrats are still in a race to determine their candidate, and the Republicans have a front-runner, but he's not yet a certain nominee.
It's an interesting year. I resolve, again, to become better informed and make wise choices.
I just hope that come November, I like the winner.

Regular customers

When I was scanning the obituaries published in Monday's Mercury, I recognized a familiar name, and I felt a pang of surprise and sadness. The woman, who died in her mid 70s, was not a friend or relative. In fact, I never met her. But I felt as if I knew her.
She was one of my "regulars" -- the readers who call or visit or email on a regular basis to tell me their theories, their opinions and their news tips. I am certain if any of my regulars are reading this, you know who you are.
One sends me postcards or letters on motorcycle notepad. He often disagrees with my opinions, but we became instant friends the day I called him on the phone to tell him I valued his thoughts.
Two of them are retired local businesspeople of some prominence who cheer on my efforts to lead community-minded news coverage. One of those is a shameless flirt.
Another is an elderly woman who headed a newsworthy organization for many years and knew me as a reporter before I was an editor.
The woman who died last weekend was a reader who liked to let us know, sometimes with an exaggerated reality, what was going on in her municipality. I knew several years ago that she had moved, because the place in need of "investigating" shifted from one town to another.
Sometimes, I don't hear from someone, a regular letter writer for example who likes to hand-deliver his letters to the newsroom, for a few months and then I learn there was an illness or a hospitalization.
And then I recognize a name in the obituary columns and know I won't be hearing from that person again.
We hear from a lot of people in the course of our days in the newsroom -- some less pleasant than others -- but I find a certain comfort in the predictability of my regulars. This week, they are one less.

How we report on a fire

John Strickler was working Saturday morning as the photographer on duty for the weekend when he heard a police dispatch for fire in a storeroom at the rear of 261 High St. Grabbing his camera and his video recording equipment, he ran down the steps and into the alley behind The Mercury. When he saw the black smoke rising near Lastick Furniture, he picked up the pace.
Strickler ran down the alley behind the burning building at the same time as the first police getting to the scene and seconds before the first fire truck rounded the corner. As firemen worked to get to the flames, Strickler was at work taking photos for the print edition with one camera, then video for the web site with another.
Racing to the front of the building, he shot the flames as they burst through the Dollar Beauty store.
***
Business editor Michelle Karas spent Saturday morning at Midas Muffler getting the exhaust system in her car repaired after hitting a deer carcass the night before on Route 422.
As she left to return home, fire trucks came racing past her. "I looked up, saw the smoke over High Street, and pulled over," she said. Karas grabbed a notebook and went to the scene, writing down details for a story she knew another reporter would write later that day.
***
Borough hall reporter Evan Brandt was washing dishes in the kitchen of his home across town when his wife spotted the smoke spiraling into the sky. "I think St. Al's is on fire," she said, referring to St. Aloysius Church several blocks from their home. Brandt thought it might be coming from the Pottstown School District administration building at Penn and Walnut streets.
A phone call to a neighbor confirmed that the fire was downtown.
"You're going in to work, aren't you?" said Brandt's wife with a sigh.
He spent the rest of the day on High Street talking to firemen and onlookers for a front-page story.
***
Police reporter Brandie Kessler was at a family luncheon celebrating her sister's college graduation in Bethlehem when she got a call from Karas to alert her to the fire. Although not due in to work until 2 p.m., Kessler hustled her family through their meal so she could get on the road.
Upset that she had missed the start of the action, she made up for lost time interviewing people evacuated from their apartments, fire officials and business owners.
After writing her story for the next day's editions, she went back to the smoky scene at night looking for more detail to report.
Kessler was headed out of town the next day for a cruise to the Caribbean with friends, but was she gloating? No, she was lamenting the "follow stories" that she would miss the chance to write.
***
Sunday editor Chuck Pitchford was at home when I called him around 12:30 to alert him about the news of the day. He knew the page configuration for Sunday's paper by memory, so we could determine if there was enough space for color photos.
Pitchford came into the office a little later to discover the power was out and computers down because of the fire. His plans to get off to an early start were waylaid. But by 5 p.m., he was placing photos on pages, writing headlines and packaging the four pages of coverage.
About 7 p.m., a computer glitch caused another delay in page layout, and the atmosphere in the newsroom got a bit testy. But pulling together and helping each other through a crisis is what we do best.
By 9 p.m., Pitchford was down to the fine-tuning of the presentation our readers saw the next day: "FIRE DESTROYS HALF A BLOCK."
***
Bob Morris learned about the fire in a phone call from his son and hustled into town to "protect" the building. Morris is The Mercury facilities manager, and through rain, sleet or smoke, he takes care of this corner. Morris quickly shut down the heating system so that the smoke filtering up the alley and into the building through a freight elevator opening would not permeate through the vents. It was smoky in here, but it would have been much worse.
***
Publisher Tom Abbott made the drive from Delaware County to make sure we were okay. Circulation director Rich Miller was on the phones, raising the press run numbers for Sunday. We remembered to post a story and photo to the Web, then updated with video. Circulation crews hit the streets Sunday morning, replacing papers in boxes as quickly as they sold out. A record number of people visited our Web site to view the video.
***
This was how we report on a fire in Pottstown. Morning, afternoon, and evening, seven days a week, the news doesn't stop.
Neither do the fine people who bring you The Mercury and pottsmerc.com

Newton's law

Physics was my worst subject in high school, but there is one law that I believe has universal truth: For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
For every good day, there is a bad day.
For every fall backward, there is a step forward.
For every stroke of bad luck, there is a moment of good fortune.
Take for instance this puppy-training that I am obsessing about these days. Yesterday, Sydney was a calm, affectionate delight. Today, she is misbehaving with manic aggression, up twice during the night and crying in her crate.
I am a firm believer that for every moment I let my guard down and relax, I will have a moment of equal and opposite inconvenience.
There have been instances when I stayed home sick on a day that I might have been able to get to work if I came armed with 4,000 tissues and 900 cough drops. So that decision to stay in bed demands an equal and opposite reaction from the universe. The next day I will have a flat tire or a dead battery.
Thank you, Mr. Newton.
The last time I broke my routine of going home to dutifully make dinner and instead stopped for a beer and appetizer with a co-worker, the pump to our well wore out in the middle of the night. I woke the next day to a house without running water. A little relaxation, a lot of inconvenience.
Yesterday, I discovered while checking the financial records of our son in college in Colorado that the school he is attending requires a certain amount of academic credits to receive financial aid awards. The credits he gets for being on the track team do not count; thus, while he has a full schedule, he was ineligible to receive his track scholarship.
The tuition check we just mailed was not enough. I discovered this by accident, and he was able to remedy the situation by adding a one-credit class to his roster, just in time to reinstate the scholarship award.
This was either very bad luck because it occurred or very good luck to have discovered it.
So I'm left today wondering what tomorrow will bring.

Lunch time -- or not

Here's the thing about kids and dogs: They rule your life.

Mine have controlled my ability, or inability, to have a lunch break for all of my working years.

When I was executive editor at this newspaper in the early '90s, my assistant at the time thought it amusing that I shopped for baby formula for my infant twins on my so-called lunch break.

Lunch was even more challenging when the twins were middle or high school students who always needed rides home from sports or play practice. I would take "lunch" from 3:30 to 4:30 p.m. and put 35 miles a day on my car driving from work to school to home and back.

Now, lunch is dictated by an energetic 12-week-old puppy, Sydney, who needs a break from the crate at midday. I actually enjoy this. I leave the office, have a 10-minute drive, change from heels to flats, run around the yard for 20 minutes, wolf down yesterday's leftovers from the fridge, and head back.

I can throw a load of wash in the dryer or thaw something for dinner in my 10 minutes of kitchen time ... a whole world of opportunities never experienced before.

That's the thing about kids and dogs. They manage your time in ways you would never dream of otherwise.

They get you up in time to see sunrises, keep you up late enough to watch a full moon setting behind the trees, remind you of how the quiet of the woods feels at 5 a.m. and send you to bed early, exhausted.

And since there's never time to eat a complete meal, dieting is not an issue.

Kids and dogs are a recipe for healthful living.

Sortof.