He met her at a party. She was outstanding; many guys were after her, but nobody paid any attention to him. After the party, he invited her for coffee. She was surprised, so as not to appear rude, she went along.

    As they sat in a nice coffee shop, he was too nervous to say anything and she felt uncomfortable. Suddenly, he asked the waiter, “Could you please give me some salt? I'd like to put it in my coffee."

    They stared at him. He turned red, but when the salt came, he put it in his coffee and drank. Curious, she asked, "Why salt with coffee?" He explained, "When I was a little boy, I lived near the sea. I liked playing on the sea. I could feel it salty, like salty coffee. Now every time I drink it, I think of my childhood and my hometown. I miss it and my parents, who are still there."

    She was deeply moved. A man who can admit that he's homesick must love his home and care about his family. He must be responsible. She talked too, about her faraway hometown, her childhood, her family. That was the start to their love story.

    They continued to date. She found that he met all her requirements. He was tolerant, kind, warm and careful. And to think she would have missed the catch if not for the salty coffee! So they married and lived happily together. And every time she made coffee for him, she put in some salt, the way he liked it.

    After 40 years, he passed away and left her a letter which said:

    My dearest, please forgive my life-long lie. Remember the first time we dated? I was so nervous that I asked for salt instead of sugar. It was hard for me to ask for a change, so I just went ahead. I never thought that we would hit it off. Many times, I tried to tell you the truth, but I was afraid that it would ruin everything. Sweetheart, I don't exactly like salty coffee. But as it mattered so much to you, I've learnt to enjoy it. Having you with me was my greatest happiness. If I could live a second time, I hope we can be together again, even if it means that I have to drink salty coffee for the rest of my life.

    After I visited my elder sister's house, I was reminded just how different the apartment living with a child was. She has a nice big house with a few floors, a big backyard and lots of toys. Her house is my son Tom's little piece of heaven. At her house there are little toys, big toys, a doll house, a play house and more! There are bedroom stocked with train tables, ride-on toys and big trucks.

    The main difference about being an apartment mom is that you cannot become a collector of “things”. I continually get rid of anything too large. When Tom was born, we made a rule that there would never be any stuffed animals in our apartment that were larger than him at that time. We also made a rule that we would only ever have at most five stuffed “anything” at one time. So far this had worked out well for us. These rules left Tom with a few special soft creatures to play with, but that can be easily put away.

    Since we want to keep the appearance of being clean city dwellers, we have limited Tom's play things to one toy basket in the main living space and one big storage bin in his bedroom. I am constantly thinking about living space when I buy anything for our little Tom. We love the storage bin in Tom's room. It is filled with fun play things. It is a place to keep his toys and everything gets pulled in and out daily. Anything that doesn't fit is often weeded out to create space.

    Tom absolutely likes going to his aunt's house and pulling out every single toy available to him. Of course, Tom does not notice that when he returns home he only gets one basket of toys instead of many rooms of toys. Right now Tom lives fully in his 1,100-square-foot apartment and seems very satisfied with his basket of toys.

    I took down the violin I made in the past two months, and walked towards the farmland outside. The violin shined in the sunlight, and I admitted, unwillingly, that it looked good. But I knew it was a mockery (笑柄) of my failure to find beauty.

    “What makes a violin beautiful?”

    I first asked this question as a three-year-old child and now again as a teenager. When I listened to a violin for the first time, I was so astonished by its beauty that I imagined a fairy living in the wooden frame. But fairies faded when I grew older. I wanted a reasonable answer to the question.

    I referred to Professor Ruan, my violin teacher, who introduced the violin to me 14 years ago. This 85-year-old man rhapsodized about (热烈赞美)the legend of Antonio Stradivari. “His violins are the most beautiful works human has ever crafted.” “Make a violin with your own hands," Professor Ruan suggested, "When you play it, you'll know.”

    However, when Professor Ruan introduced to me a violin workshop, what I saw was far from my expectation. In front of me was a fat worker, shirtless and sunburned, soon to become my master. What shocked me most was that the “master” knew nearly nothing about music. His rough hands had been tending crops, not instruments, for most of his life.

Two months later, standing outside the workshop, I was disappointed. Yes, I just finished or copied a Stradivarius violin. But I didn't find beauty in it. Then I remembered Professor Ruan's words, "When you play it, you'll know.” So I closed my eyes, and focused on where my fingers and strings touched. Music flowed suddenly so beautifully that for a moment I doubted my own ears. Slowly I opened my eyes, and with surprise found the fairy of my childhood fantasy dancing to my music — the two-year-old daughter of the master.

    Professor Ruan was right. I didn't find beauty until I played music with the violin, because beauty isn't in the instrument itself. It's just here, deep down, in ourselves.

    Learning how to face silence in conversation is an important skill, especially when working across cultures.

    In international negotiations, experienced negotiator (谈判者) stay silent and impassive on purpose because that will make others feel uncomfortable and possibly make compromises without having to do anything. Americans especially can't stand silence, so they often are the first to break the silence and sometimes might be at a disadvantage in negotiations.

    So, what's the best response? Set your jaw and wait it out. Don't offer a compromise just because they are not speaking. If you have to say something, ask a direct question, such as "What's your initial reaction to that offer?" Once a silence is getting into 45 seconds you could say, "Let's come back to that in a minute and go on with the next part of our negotiation."

    In presentations, silence can be far more effective than dramatic passion (热情). Before starting, look at the audience and be silent for a moment because that says, "I'm in control. I know what I'm doing. I'm confident."

    A classic example was when Apple co-founder Steve Jobs launched the first iPhone. He introduced with many pauses so that you didn't miss his key points. Because silence makes us nervous, our natural reaction is that we'd better pay attention, there's something going on here.

    Equally, when giving a speech to staff or trainees, pauses count-especially if there are negatives. If you keep talking you're spoon feeding. Give people a moment of silence to get beyond the emotional response and to start thinking consciously and processing.

    Silence can be an inward-focused thoughtful activity or an outward stillness where you give yourself the time to watch and think and listen to the world around you. Having observed the use of silence in Finland and also among the Blackfeet Nation, a North American Indian tribe in northern Montana in the US, we can see benefits far beyond wheeling and dealing.

    Silence can be a very powerful point for understanding ourselves, understanding others, for developing better common understanding and more productive outcomes and that applies to business, politics, education, law, medicine, every area of human life.

    The full moon climbs over the eastern horizon (地平线) and hangs like a huge orange globe in the sky. A few hours later, the moon is overhead but seems to have changed. The huge orange globe has become a small silver disk. What has happened? Why has the orange color disappeared? Why does the moon seem so much smaller and farther away now that it is overhead?

    The moon appears orange on the horizon because we view it through the dust of the atmosphere. The overhead moon does not really shrink (缩小) as it moves away from the horizon. Our eyes inform us that the overhead moon is farther away. But in this position the moon is actually closer to our eyes than when it is near the horizon.

    The change in size is a trick our eyes and minds play on us. When the moon is low in the sky, we can compare its size with familiar objects. It is easy to see that the moon is much larger than trees or buildings, for example. When the moon is high in the sky, however, it is hard to compare it with objects on earth. Compared to the vastness of the sky, the moon seems small.

    There is another reason why the moon seems to shrink. We are used to staring at objects straight ahead of us. When an object is difficult to see, our eyes have to try to focus on it. When we move our heads back to look up, we will try hard again. Looking at something from an unaccustomed position can fool you into believing an object is smaller or farther away than it is. However, scientists do not yet understand completely why the moon seems to shrink as it rises in the sky.

    I'm a single person and live with my dog. Jed isn't just my dog. He is my family. He goes everywhere with me. So I was overjoyed last year to hear that Bunnings was allowing dogs on a leash(皮带)- into their stores.

    But no sooner had the rule come in than it was quickly repealed(撤销). A little girl in Victoria had walked up to a Jack Russell in a store and been bitten(咬伤). That was it. No more dogs.

    I don't know the whole story. But here's what I have to say: dogs bite sometimes and kids are sometimes difficult to control.

    There is nothing I love more than a kid who wants to touch Jed. But what's even better is when they ask permission first.

    I was at my local dog park last week. It's huge, with an off-leash dog area to one side and a fenced-off kids' playground a good distance away. There was a family there that morning —parents and two young girls playing near the dog area. The elder girl started crying at the sight of Jed—" puppy! There a puppy! "Jed went right up and started licking(舔)her, which only made her cry louder.

    My dog was frightened and tried to get away. The little girl ran after him, shouting loudly. The parents did nothing; they just let their kid frighten my dog and then said I should have stopped him from licking her.

    While they had a choice to play elsewhere, I did not. So I had to walk Jed away.

    "I just don't want to have to meet a dog when I go shopping," said one caller on a radio show yesterday. Look, I get that. But the thing is, I don't always want to have your kid kick the back of my seat for two hours on a plane.

    When I lived in the UK and the US, I couldn't walk through the stores without stopping to pat dogs. Why can't we follow their practice?