When someone is tailgating your automobile, it's tempting to think that you're being pushed. It's tempting to press the accelerator a little harder just to create some space in your rear-view mirror.

But before you increase your speed, check the speedometer, and check the posted speed limit.

Remember that you are responsible for your own actions. Driving faster could introduce safety risks. Driving faster could introduce legal risks.

A better way to say it: the person behind you is not going to pay your speeding ticket.

You are the driver, and the control is yours.

I recently saw a landscaper flying through a lawn on a mower going at full tilt. Grass was flying everywhere. The white siding on an outbuilding was blasted with clippings. A swimming pool was defiled.

So after an hour, the lawn was mowed. The landscaper had done his job.

However, the real goal – the property owner's goal – was to have a well-tended property. That goal wasn't achieved.

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Do your job. Do it well. But remember that your job is often part of a larger story. If you've made a mess of other areas while doing your job, you haven't really done your job at all.

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Grilled chicken, roasted red peppers, red onions. To me, it's a delicious combination of toppings on a pizza. I've ordered this pizza a handful of times from a few different places.

Once, the person taking my order apologized, "Red onions? Sorry. We don't have those; we only have the purple kind."

In transactions like these, each side has a need. The person working for the restaurant needs to take the order properly so it can be entered into the kitchen queue. The patron needs to communicate the elements of the order so he can eat what he wants to eat.

While one can learn many lessons at a restaurant, it is not a classroom. The customers are there to eat, not to educate, and certainly not to condescend.

After half a beat, I replied, "Then the purple kind, please. That'll be great. Thank you."

In a nighttime display of fireworks, it's tempting to start wondering – two minutes into the show – was that the finale?

Or was that?

Oooh. That has to have been it.

If you're not careful, you'll forget to enjoy the show.

So when you're being entertained, be entertained. Enjoy it. Be delighted.

When the finale comes, you’ll know it, and it will be spectacular.

There are occasions when I'm compelled to let an art student know, "You're yelling." What I mean is that the student's work is presented in such a confrontational way... so over-the-top... with volume past 10... that it is similar to someone shouting.

When one yells, people might hear. They might even listen. Sometimes. But, if you continue to yell, there is also risk that people will tune you out. You might yell to get someone's attention, but once you've done that, you need to stop yelling and start talking. Start discussing. Start engaging.

My advice to the aforementioned art student: Draw-in the viewer. Grab the listener's attention. Without a doubt, make sure you are seen. But then, create space to move around. Allow room for dialogue. Let people remain with the work.

Typing in all caps. Highlighting the whole book. Sustained yelling. These tactics draw attention, but without without a breath or a sustained pause, we risk being ignored.

I recently heard someone say, “I don’t own a computer. I’m just not one of those types of people.”

When something is new, "those types of people" are the innovators. They are at the leading edge doing what no one else is doing.

At some point along the Rogers adoption curve, the innovators and early adopters are joined by many others, and "those types of people" become the majority. Then, they're no longer those types of people; they becomes us.

So for the person who was proud to not have a [desktop] computer – I think the more appropriate phrase would have been, “I don’t own a computer. I’m one of those types of people.”

We can live happily outside of the majority, but we should probably understand on which fringe of the curve we reside.

Notice what you notice. I first learned this concept from potter Chris Staley. The context was art, and how artists see the world. How we respond. What compels us.

The concept of noticing what you notice is perhaps a cousin of mindfulness. For me, the exercise of stopping to identify what draws my attention helps me to better understand my own perspective in the world, and what is important to me.

I notice when a stranger offers a kind, “Good morning!” I notice when furniture is thoughtfully placed. I notice when a casual acquaintance is happy to talk about himself but asks nothing about me. I notice how pretty the world looks in the convex driver’s side blind-spot mirror of my car. I notice handwriting. I notice eye-contact during conversations.

When you take the time to notice what you notice, everyday experiences can become moments of resonance and valuable introspection.

You cannot do everything. And of what you can do, you can't do all of it right now. And so we prioritize.

Thing is, there's more than one right thing to do. The hard choice is not to eliminate alcohol and Netflix. When we're in a time crunch, those pleasures that divert us from our goals – they are easily identified. Perhaps still a challenge to sacrifice, but not a challenge to label. The difficulty is: how to choose from among all the right things we can do.

Here's a useful thought, paraphrased from Seth Godin: "This next thing you're going to do or say: Does it help you get closer to [what you need, what you want]?

I think a lot when I drive. Thanks to GPS technology, on long stretches of unknown highway, I can simply glance at the screen and know that I'm on the right path.

Before I could take a supercomputer from my pocket and perch it on the dashboard, I'd have a written set of directions.

Did I pass my exit? Where's a mile-marker?

Wait. Did I get back on going Eastbound instead of Westbound?

I don't have these sweat-inducing, vexing experiences while driving these days.

But life is different.

Career paths, business plans, parenthood... there's no GPS technology for those things. However, there are still signposts.

Today, I had an experience that confirmed for me: you're on the right path with that particular project upon which you've been working.

A marker. A directional sign. They come along every now and then, and – especially when they tell you you're headed in the right direction – they can offer a much needed boost.

When I mow the lawn, without exception, I use a line trimmer along the edges of the concrete walkways.

I line-trim first, and then I mow the rest of the grass.

Then I use a blower to clear the sidewalks of clippings.

Neat edges and tidy walkways make the whole lawn look its best.

It's similar with documents, drawings, haircuts, and serving dishes. Clean margins, edges, and borders give the viewer a signal. This was intentional. This was done with care. These details matter, and so do the other details that you can't see from where you're standing. But you trust that the rest is just as good.

I'm vetting contractors to replace the roof on our house. There are three companies under consideration. Here are some stark differences:

Company A

The estimator arrived at the house with a ladder, and performed a careful inspection of the roof.

The quotation was slow to get to me. It arrived in an envelope, more than a week later than promised. It is on a company quote-sheet, but scope of the project is all handwritten... in extremely neat handwriting. Important parts are carefully highlighted. Four different colors of highlighter are used. Four.

The quote details all of the important steps, including the use of a magnet in the lawn after all the work is complete, to ensure that no loose nails remain in the grass.

This company's quotation packet was thick, because it included four photocopied pages of customer testimonials. Sixteen of them. All glowing.

Company B

The estimator was friendly. He did not have a ladder. He looked carefully at the roof from ground-level, and explained that they use satellite images to calculate square footage.

This quotation arrived within days, via email. It was typed. The price was comparable to company A, but did not include the same level of detail, or the "if we need new sheeting here..." sorts of line-items.

Company C

They are working on a roof down the street from my house. I wrote down their number. The day they arrived at that house, they ambled out of their truck, and looked at the materials on the trailer, seeming to scratch their heads. Each of them had a coffee in hand.

One week later, the roof was not complete.

A week after that, another company's truck was there.

I never asked for a quote.

* * *

While satellite images and digital documents have a certain level of polish, careful, thorough work – even done using traditional tools and techniques – holds a lot more weight than the flashy stuff.

And your weaknesses. Then, play to your strengths. (Keep working on your improving the areas where you're weak, but do that during practice -- not during game-time.)

I own two hand planes. They are not fine tuned, and I am not particularly expert at using them. However, I do know when to use them; I know when they will come in handy.

I've been edge banding plywood for a cabinet. Instead of milling the edge banding exactly, I've left it wide, with the intention of using a flush-trim route bit to get everything just right.

I could have used the router to hog off all of the excess, but that creates more dust than necessary. Enter the low-angle block plane.

I'm too novice a hand-planer to rely solely on that tool to true up the edges. But it was no trouble at all to bring the material down to 1/16". The router handled the rest. Sawdust was cut by about eighty percent, I saved some wear on my router bit, and I felt good using a hand tool.

No tear out, and lots of wins.

When the factory glue-ups on Baltic birch are met with super-tight edge banding joints, I feel like I’ve done my job well.

Hygge

Many writers instruct English-speakers to pronounce this word as "hoo-ga" but when I hear it said by Denmark natives, my ears hear the "oo" that is more common in French or Hungarian. That is, the mouth and tongue form to say "ee" while the lips form to say "oo". Either way, it is certainly not an instance where the word is spelled like it sounds.

Hygge tends to resist a hard-fast definition, so I'll list some things that I've read regarding the term. Coziness. Absence of stress. Company of friends. Happy childhood memories. Well-being. Simple pleasures. Comfort. Conviviality. Warmth.

Some physical items often related to hygge: unscented candles, sweaters, woolen socks, scarves, mulled wine, well-designed lamps.

I recently received the The Little Book of Hygge -  Danish Secrets to Happy Living, and I could not put it down. In the book, Meik Wiking offers a totally Dane-centric view of happiness, but this is not surprising. The Danish are consistently ranked as being the happiest people in the world.

All through 2016, books and blogs published hygge-related material. In a turbulent year, maybe it was just the right time to spread the hygge gospel around the globe. For me, I'm embracing the concept and finding a lot of enjoyment in the mindset it encourages. Now about that Poul Henningsen PH 5 pendant lamp... Do I need one or two?

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Classic PH 5 Pendant Lamps as shown on www.louispoulsen.com

Perfectly Toasted

A just-right piece of toast seems to be something that I can only achieve by eliminating all distractions, putting aside multitasking, and staring unceasingly at the contents of the toaster oven. It's typically an English muffin upon which I'm focused. Too little time and it results in warm, soft, somewhat yeasty bread. Too much time, and it's a hot, charred waste.

Here's the thing: the time between under-done and over-done is about seven seconds. Really. Seven seconds. And the imprecise control knob on my toaster oven mocks me as I try in vain to find the one to two rotational degrees that will put me within the window of excellence.

There are some new appliances that have separate toasting dials or even digital timers that offer a greater degree of control. But for me, I think I'll use my toasting experience as a small opportunity to practice attentiveness and patience. Finding a moment like that amidst a chaotic day is probably a good thing. Happy toasting!

Festool Systainers

The ArtBin pencil box that I used in high school might have helped me to fall in love with having purposefully designed storage containers. There's something wonderful about having a particular place for everything. I'm looking at my bookshelf, and I see Jim Tolpin's The Toolbox Book, which offers great examples of beautifully designed tool chests and cabinets -- each one having particular places for particular tools. Most of these cabinets are made of wood, and they're all superbly crafted.

Recently, I've come to appreciate the value of not just a well-designed toolbox, but a well-designed tool storage system. The German company TANOS GmbH has a patented case system based on units called systainers. Systainers often include tailored interiors specifically fitted for particular tools or supplies. The units stack together for easy transport and storage.

Festool uses systainer systems to encase most of their handheld tools. They also offer a few toolbox and general storage designs which can be configured with dividers and modular, removable interior containers. The image here is of the combination I often have coupled. It has a toolbox top which is connected to a bank of removable drawers. The cart, which has exceptionally smooth-running locking casters, helps for moving the unit around the shop or wherever I need it to travel. Since the system is modular, it can grow and adapt as my needs change. There are lots of options available on Festool's website. These systems are an investment for sure, but return is in excellent organization and efficiency. Absolutely worth it.