When Ideas Become Reality

In a world where entrenched problems resist solution, or where life, politics and/or ideology keep a problem and its solution from ever getting together, it's an uncanny feeling to envision a solution and then have it appear, all set and ready to go, having somehow eluded the forces that would customarily spoil the matchmaking.

For instance, when we moved into a house fifteen years ago that was set higher than the neighbors, it finally occurred to me that there should be shades that can be adjusted to cover the bottom of the window, so we could have privacy but also light and a view. What a surprise to find out that such shades had already been invented and were available. Problem solved.

When observation showed that recycling receptacles get filled with trash if they are not consistently paired with a trash can, and that hundreds of trash cans along the streets, in parks and in shopping centers in Princeton lacked a companion recycling bin, it seemed the world needed a retrofit. The recycling bin must be attached to the trash can, to insure they remain paired, yet it must be easily flipped over to empty out the contents.

Much to my surprise, such a pairing appeared in borough parks a few years ago. It may not be pretty, but it works. The next step is to design one that is attractive and versatile enough to fit, and fit in with, all the other trash cans in town that still stand alone, eating recyclables for lack of a partner.

My cornbread went through a prolonged era of recurrent dryness, never achieving the moist texture of the pre-made at stores. Though our cookbooks offered no ideas, it turned out that the wise Indian chief had anticipated my problem and had been holding the secret of success all along, on the back of the package.

More egg, more oil, less milk, slightly lower baking temperature. Problem solved.

Here's to the merry matchmaker. May its visits be many.