The smell wafting from the fridge every time Christian or I opened the door was getting worse by the day.  We could no longer blame the dogs, or sock, or even the full kitchen trash can beside the sink.

No, it was definitely coming from the refrigerator in a way that was unfamiliar.  We are not prone to grow green-white fuzzy life forms so famous in the jokes.  Our refrigerator isn’t perfect, but it’s never so bad it smells either.

Tonight we couldn’t take it any longer so Christian and I brought out every single item; the bowl of leftover black bean and corn salsa and the container of shrimp, olive and bow tie pasta with goat cheese; the lone jalapeno pepper I bought for a recipe I never made, all the garlic, the jars of spaghetti sauce considered the prime suspect because if anything goes moldy in my refrigerator it is too many jars of spaghetti sauce opened for just one serving; the various small jars of Asian sauces I now know how to use thanks to Jianan from China who lives with us, and the carrots, the eggs and the mustards.  It all came out, got wiped down and stood in a counter top police lineup as we narrowed the search for the foul smell.

It was the Greek yogurt.  Somehow, something pierced the foil top as it made its way from the grocery store to the refrigerator shelf.  It was stinking to high heaven after one week.  Banished.

With the shelving all sprayed clean and the items returned and reorganized, I took a look at my evening masterpiece and declared the “ice box”, as my dad used to call it, healthy.

The U.S. Agriculture Department continues to revise the food pyramid, that long established guide to the proportion of various food groups we are supposed to eat for optimum health.  I must say we do pretty well at my place, although we can’t get past whole grain bread.  It overwhelms the taste of an otherwise great poached egg in the morning or sandwich at lunch time.  I feel like I’m eating cardboard that got soaked at high tide at the beach.  I stick with white.  And it sticks with me took for a couple of weeks in the refrigerator which should tell you about the ingredients they use to keep it “fresh” for that long.

So here is my refrigerator.  I score well in an abundance of fresh vegetables.  The jars of spaghetti sauce are for the convenience of Christian who sometimes gets a craving for pasta late at night.  My waistline could do without the two half gallons of half-and-half that I pour in my coffee.  A 4-year old could drink it with all the sugar and cream I put in, but at least I don’t eat fried food.  I’ll justify anything, won’t I?

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Jars of olives, pasta sauce, artichokes, sundried tomatoes, pesto, sriracha hot chili sauce, cream cheese, mayo, roasted red peppers; my basics that all end up in recipes.

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Cilantro, scallions, mangoes, lettuce,carrots, celery, onions, garlic, cheeses and lots of limes and lemons.

My half-and-half, orange juice, milk, a million mustards, bag of homemade suet for the birds, horseradish and Asian sauces.

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Few things in life are more satisfying than the progress you see when your college student arrives home for Christmas break.  You can practically measure the leap in maturity, self-reliance and gratitude with a yard stick.

Now that I’ve succeeded in attracting dozens of songbirds to the feeders outside my windows, I’ve also managed to attract the hawks that eat them.  This week I saw for the first time a cooper’s hawk darting like a missile from the trees.    I thought he was magnificent until I noticed all the birds had disappeared so I researched the cooper and learned he makes dinner out of my little birdies.  Why must nature be so cruel?

Jianan landed a freelance piano gig advertised through Crouse College.  It was for a Christmas party in the neighborhood.   I’m protective of Jianan ( note prior article) so I inquired about the client.  She said “it’s for the Chancellor.  What’s a Chancellor?”  You should have seen her face when I told her the Chancellor is the President of the entire University.  For the first time in all my years in Syracuse, I drove past the iron gates and into the Chancellor’s private residence tonight to deliver Jianan.

There is something very comforting about a close friendship now entering its 29th year.  I celebrated my pal’s birthday today with a two hour gab fest at a Dewitt coffee shop.  Had she not checked her watch to get to work on time, we would still be there at this hour of the night.   In all our years together we have always run out of time before we’ve run out of topics.  Oh, and special thanks to new friend Margaret McCormick, formerly of the Syracuse Post-Standard, who answered my tweet in record time with suggestions of coffee shops to try.

Every year at this time I realize how blessed I am because my hand cramps up from all the Christmas cards I write to people I love.

My children place their annual phone call to ask what I might like for Christmas.  ”I don’t know’, I tell them every year, “but it better be good”.

If you see me walking around the neighborhood in just a summer shirt, slacks, boots and gloves, I haven’t lost my mind; I’m trying to lose weight.  It’s thermodynamic weight loss.  You’re supposed to burn calories simply by shivering and trying to keep warm in the extreme cold.  Beats passing up all the great holiday food, doesn’t it?  Want to join me?

My 17 year old son Christian is the luckiest duck to be invited on a trip to Italy with the family of his longtime buddy Matt Shappert.  After one year of dreaming about it, and another year planning it, the four left JFK two days ago and will return on the 17th after absorbing Rome, Naples, Pompeii, an offshore island and who knows what else.

I convinced myself not to be bothered that I wouldn’t hear much from Christian knowing how busy they would be, but I awoke to an email with the rundown of the day’s first sites.  I’ll share the letter with you, but first you should know I raised my children to speak the “King’s English”.  No swearing or even slang allowed.  So occasionally my children talk a little “blue” to have some fun with me.  I occasionally turn the tide by speaking “blue” right back and it always surprises them, so that’s the setup of the email.

I hope you’re enjoying your holiday weekend and that you are finding ways to keep cool in the heat.

Hey mom, right now im in the hotel in Rome and we’ve spent all day walking around and seeing all the cool stuff like the huge ass fountain, some monuments, statues, ruins and a glimpse of the Colosseum. Tomorrow were going to the Colosseum and today we also went to a italian diner place and i got this pasta and i’ll never see pasta the same. ive got some pictures i’ll send u later. i may not be able to email you again since my laptop wont fit in this adapter for the UK power outlets. maybe I can buy one myself with 3 prongs instead of 2. I guess i could also use my ipod for email. But whatever. Ill talk to you later hopefully. Love, your favorite child

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Here was my response to Christian:

Christian, thank you for this email.  Sounds like you’ve hit the ground running.  I feel like I’m on the trip with you!  I’m familiar with all the landmarks you mentioned but never saw the big ass fountain in any guide books.  The Shapperts must really know Italy.

Natalie will be jealous of the pasta you’re eating.  Me too.

Love, Your favorite parent

You may not be familiar with the name, but you’ve probably seen his work, especially if you read The New Yorker magazine.  The cartoons he creates with captions that nail the human condition are first-rate.  I have a book of them.  Here are a few examples to make you smile. I hope you like them.  I’ll add more in the future.

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1. The back steps are my extra refrigerator

2. I enjoy the January utility bill

3. I love watching icicles tear at my gutters

4. The line of salt on my boots reminds me of ocean waves.

5. I can wear every article of clothing I own.  All at once.

6. It’s fun to open those hand warmers in packages

7. The lawn mower doesn’t wake me up early in the morning

8. More space for us when the Snowbirds leave

9. You can’t lose sunglasses when you never wear them

10. Hair dries faster

What do you “love” about winter.  Please write in.

New Year’s Resolutions about Money

2005:   I will not spend money frivolously.

2006:   I will pay off my bank loan promptly.

2007:  I will pay off my bank loans promptly.

2008:  I will begin making a strong effort to be out of debt by 2011.

2009:   I will try to pay off the debt interest by 2012.

2010:   I will try to be out of the country by 2013.

Resolutions about Work:

2007:  I will not let my boss push me around.

2008:  I will not let my sadistic boss drive me to the point of suicide.

2009:  I will stick up for my rights when my boss bullies me.

2010:  I will be sure to mention my boss to Dr. Thomas and the group.

Resolutions about Marriage

2007:  I will try to be a better husband to Marge

2008:  I will not leave Marge.

2009:  I will try for a reconciliation with Marge.

2010:  I will try to be a better husband to Sandy.

Resolutions about Church

2007:  I will go to Church every Sunday.

2008:  I will go to church as often as possible.

2009:  I will set aside time each day for prayer and reflection.

2010:  I will try to catch the televangelist on TV when I can’t sleep.

Resolutions about Weight

2007:  I will get my weight below 180.

2008:  I will watch my calories until I get below 190.

2009:  I will follow my new diet religiously until I get below 200.

2010:  I will try to develop a realistic attitude about my weight.

Thank you, jokesaboutnewyears.com.    Happy New Year!

Sometimes the news is darn depressing.  And it doesn’t have to be a gigantic event like the World Trade Center attack or the Christmas Tsunami to bring on despair.  It can be the report about the family pet who died outside the burning home even after firefighters fashioned some sort of mouth-to-snout resuscitation.  Or the elderly man who wandered away from his home and was found frozen to death in the woods just beyond his back yard.   Sad tale upon sad tale, every night on the TV news.

You’d think it would drive the news staff crazy to be subjected to this as a line of work, but it’s really the opposite.  I’m living proof that news anchors and reporters really are crazy, but in this way, they’re the sanest people around and we can all learn something by their example.

As anchor of the evening news on WTVH-TV in Syracuse, New York for nearly three decades, audience members  often asked me if I got depressed reporting so much sadness and crime every night.  The answer was no.  I had therapists all around me in the form of other anchors.

Once the commercial hit, we started started talking about everything that wasn’t the news.  Sometimes it was our plan for the dinner hour, but many times, it was about what we had just watched on the program.  We talked and we shared.  Sometimes we got momentarily weepy, often we were outraged, but we always got it out.

We did the weather segment, and then the sports segment, but as those commercials kept coming  so did our feelings.  By the time we got home to our families we were all talked out.  No more anger and grief.  Our feelings were in their rightful place, the guy next to us.

Seriously, you can’t get stuck with something if people take it from you, and in that way my news colleagues were my therapists, and I like to believe I was theirs.  We took the stress away from each other. I used to be surprised my non-news industry friends so often felt blue about the news and now I know why.  Without the benefit of the other anchor and the meteorologist and the sports guy, the news can really get to you.

So if you feel down about what’s happening in the world, and you can’t find a news anchor, or a weatherman or a sports guy, pick up the phone and call a friend.  Tell them what you just saw and heard.  They’ll take it from you.  And if you do it quickly, you’ll still have time to catch the last story of the newscast, the one about the water-skiing squirrel in Iowa.