I took my 90 year old grandmother out shopping last weekend, and she mentioned that there was a book she wanted to pick up, but she couldn't remember the name of the book or the author. She did, however, remember several details about the book:

it was the author's second book
it was related to cooking somehow
it involved a Mennonite-style religious group

So, we asked the clerk at the lovely little independent bookstore if she knew any books like that, and after some thought, she produced a copy of Secrets of a Hutterite Kitchen. Perfect! But... my grandmother looked at it, then shook her head and said no, that wasn't it. She then asked if I would drive her around to a couple of other bookstores to look for it, but I ruthlessly suppressed my beta instincts and said "Grandma, if you ask one of your friends to find out the name of the author or the title of the book, I'll be happy to go pick it up with you, but I don't think it would do any good to just wander around looking for it if you don't actually know what you're looking for."

I stopped in to visit my grandmother again on Tuesday, and she proudly pointed to a new book on her coffee table. "That's the book I was telling you about," she exclaimed, "the one you couldn't find!"

What the hell, Grandma.

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