DEAR MISS MANNERS: On several occasions, my husband has accused me of being rude because I am easily distracted by our children and not paying attention to his talk about work.

Although I would like to give him my undivided attention, he talks to me about his work using acronyms and engineering details knowing that I have no idea about what he is speaking. It is so boring and when our children interrupt to talk to me, it is natural to answer since I cannot follow what he is talking about anyway.

Do manners require that I must listen uninterrupted for, say, 15 minutes of boring talk when the person knows I cannot possibly understand? I love my husband, but wish he could talk about something interesting to both of us. He is hurt that I do not listen and I think he is rude for not considering that his talk is foreign to me.

GENTLE READER: You believe that your husband is rude for not realizing what a bore he is? For wanting to talk to you about his life's work? For expecting you to spare 15 minutes for him? Oh, and for not understanding that the children should feel free to interrupt him?

Have some free etiquette advice. Miss Manners assures you that it is more of a bargain than you will get from a divorce lawyer.

There is no more effective way to belittle and insult someone than to indicate that he bores you. We all encounter bores in life, but polite people find that when they cannot deter or avoid them, enduring a bit of boredom is better than inflicting humiliation.

And you are talking about your husband. Has it not occurred to you that you have an obligation to him -- not only to refrain from hurting him, but for taking an interest in him? If you do not understand the language of his profession, get him to teach it to you. If, for the sake of common courtesy, you fake an interest until you begin to understand, real interest is likely to follow.

Meanwhile, Miss Manners would like to suggest gently that you improve your own domestic job performance. You need to work on your scheduling so that you have uninterrupted time to talk to your husband without neglecting the children, and you need to teach them respect for their father as well as the manners not to barge in on others' conversation.

Depending on their ages, you might suggest that your husband explain his work to them as well. He is likely then to keep it simple. And if you find that the children and he are having an interesting time with this, Miss Manners begs you to remember not to interrupt them.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: What is the proper way to offer a teacup or mug filled with a hot beverage to a guest? It seems rude to hold the cup by the handle and force the guest to grab the hot cup itself, but I fear that trying to offer the guest the handle with my own hands on the hot cup could result in an embarrassing spill.

GENTLE READER: It's called a saucer.

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Time to start the social season. Gentlemen, please remove your baseball caps. Ladies, please remove your, ah, baseball caps. And it might be a good idea if all of you could locate your shoes.

Miss Manners' idea of a social season does not consist of parties given to honor a perfume or an illness, worthy and dressy as those events may be. Neither does it consist of "Why don't we catch a movie?" or "Come on by, I think I've got some pizza in the freezer, and if not, we can order in," comforting and easy as those events may turn out to be.

There is nothing wrong with either of these, except that the first isn't really social, and the second is how you spent the summer season. The onset of autumn is supposed to suggest that one could bestir oneself once in a while and do something more.

Didn't we learn that in school? Summer's end brought the resolve that this school year one would keep up with the assignments and never have to go into a panicked frenzy. Applied to social life, it seems to have the same success rate.

Yet people crave change, which is why we have seasons in the first place. Places with insignificant temperature changes may brag about their perfect climates, but even perfection requires contrast to be appreciated. Theirs, which they may neglect to mention at the time, tend to be hurricanes and earthquakes.

(It is also why we have rules to go with the seasons. The white-shoe season is about to end, and Miss Manners doesn't want to hear any flak about it.)

And it is why we still have two popular styles of entertaining, even if they have deteriorated. We used to have Formal and Informal. Now we have Showing Off and Not Bothering. Showing Off is for weddings, proms, business and fund-raising; Not Bothering is for seeing people you really care about for the sheer pleasure of it. Miss Manners finds something wrong with the priorities here.

The argument in favor of not exerting oneself on behalf of family and friends is that it is more casual, comfortable and spontaneous. And she agrees that relaxing among friends is indeed a wonderful thing.

But not when they are so spontaneous that they don't show up when they said they would, or show up when they haven't said with people they haven't mentioned. Or so comfortable that they take telephone calls and watch television instead of talking. Or so casual that they forget to reciprocate or they expect their guests to pay.

The basic rules of hospitality remain in effect regardless of the style. And indeed, people are now being as cavalier about formal events as about informal, although that was not the idea.

Discounting rudeness as an advantage that one can enjoy among friends still leaves not dressing up, not making elaborate arrangements and not planning much ahead. Admittedly, these can all be pleasures. But don't people who share them deserve a treat now and then?

DEAR MISS MANNERS: During the day earlier this summer, I attended an invitation-addressing event for a charity function at the home of a woman in our community. Upon arriving, we walked through the beautifully appointed home to the backyard. We were informed that the hostess "just can't have people in her house," and were directed to sit in the backyard.

Given the importance of the task, I stayed for as long as I could stand the heat and left. I trust that I behaved appropriately, but was there anything else I could have done?

GENTLE READER: Added the lady to your list as a beneficiary. If her house is not fit to receive visitors, or if she is not allowed to bring anyone home, she may be in need of charitable assistance. If she doesn't think others are good enough to be in her house, she needs to acquire some charity.

The hostess's announcement eliminated the possibility that she thought, however mistakenly, that the garden would be more pleasing to her guests. So Miss Manners would not have blamed you for saying (in a gracious tone that seemed to blame your delicate constitution), "I'm so sorry, but I'm afraid I'm a bit warm in your lovely garden; I think I'll take my envelopes home, and drop them by when I'm done. Anyone is welcome to join me."

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am in the awkward position of having the same name and gender as a state senator who lives in my county. On more than one occasion, I have been mistaken for this senator, and while I can easily and gently correct the party verbally when we are face to face, mail correspondence is a bit more delicate.

How should I -- or need I? -- respond to mail invitations which most obviously are not intended for me, or what should I do once having opened my mail and finding this to be the case? What about those invitations where it is difficult to discern if I am truly the intended party or if it is the senator? Must I R.S.V.P. to these and/or correct the issuing party? This can take quite a good deal of time, but I would like your opinion.

GENTLE READER: The way to tell if invitations are intended for you is to look at the name of the hosts. Do you know them?

If you can think of no connection, the invitation is probably not for you. Only fund-raisers and teenagers whose parents are out of town go around inviting people they don't know.

No, wait. Miss Manners forgot about the people who invite strangers who they think will be useful to them. The senator probably gets lots of those, and may also find the hosts useful. You could explain the situation to his office, and promise that if they will send you self-addressed envelopes, you will forward his mail, with the ones you have opened marked "Opened by mistake."

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Recently my boyfriend ended our two-year relationship, which was still long-distance. He has a number of my things, including borrowed clothing and outdoor gear. Usually I'd cut my losses and forget about it, but there are a number of items that were pretty expensive, including a Patagonia fleece ($150), a compass ($80) and some photographs of me that I'd like to keep.

I've asked for this stuff back over the phone, and he has said he will get to it. It's been almost a month now, and I'd like to just get my stuff back soon so I don't have to drag anything out.

I've wondered if it would be terrible to gather up some items he gave me, including a few photos, and package them up for him along with a letter asking him to do the same. I don't want to seem petty and bitter (I am peeved at this man), and I don't really want to call him.

What's the rule on this type of thing? If it's a gift he can keep it, but some of this stuff was not given to him. Additionally, is it rude to return gifts after a breakup?

GENTLE READER: No. Although it is not necessary, except in the case of engagement rings, returning presents and memorabilia is a polite way to indicate that you are peeved. As Miss Manners understands it, you are -- surely the next step after your request was ignored.

It would be even better if you could arrange to have your package delivered by a local friend who is collecting your things for you. Sadly, people are often more reluctant to have strangers see them behaving badly than those whom they once loved.

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