It happens every year ... as the days begin to get shorter here on the tundra, and we begin to don sweaters, fleece, wool sox -- and to huddle together for warmth -- that singular and vitally important annual celebration begins to loom large on the calendar. No, it is not St Andrew's Day (important to us who celebrate the clans and haggis), nor is it the winter solstice. No, the anniversary that I am referring to is the 11^th of December, 1955.

Curiously, I am still sensing that some of you have not circled this date on your calendar, and are confused as to its importance. The answer is simple ... that is the birthday of your humble editor in chief. Let me be clear: I am not looking for gifts of any kind. But for some reason, turning 57 feels uncomfortably close to turning 60, which for a long time seemed old to me. (Of late, I have begun to hope it is the "new 40.") With that said, I am looking for some advice from those of you who may have crossed that line with grace. If I can trust anyone for this task ... it is you all.

 Rob Johnstone, Woodworker's Journal