DEAR MISS MANNERS: My mother told us kids (40 years ago) a saying to remind us to dip our soupspoon away from us when scooping up the soup: "Like a little ship at sea, dip your spoon away from me."

Since everyone in my current family thinks that is nonsense, have you heard this before, and why exactly are you supposed to dip your spoon "away from me"?

GENTLE READER: Your family doubts your mother's wisdom? Just because it doesn't make much sense? The ship's dipping, that is; it doesn't quite sound safe. Miss Manners seems to recall it sailing away from the person who was about to devour its ocean.

But soupspoons most certainly should be used away from oneself. This has a safety angle, too. Should you attack the soup with excessive enthusiasm, it will at least be away from your clothing.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I recently married my partner in a state that permits same-sex weddings. It was a small civil ceremony with only two witnesses; we didn't even tell anyone we were going to do it. Later that week, I sent about 50 handwritten announcements to friends and family.

My problem is that out of all those people, we received almost no acknowledgment: one phone call and one card, and that's it. There are even people we see fairly regularly who did not take a moment to congratulate us.

I understand that what we did is, for some reason, considered controversial and even terribly shocking by some. But these are people I've known -- in many cases -- for my entire life, people whose elaborate weddings I've attended and participated in, people for whom I've purchased lavish wedding presents even if I could not attend their ceremonies.

Not that I expect any gifts in return -- far from it, we didn't even register. But I take great offense at the lack of acknowledgment, as if I've done something so terribly shameful it must be forever ignored.

I must point out that my homosexuality itself is not the issue here. I've been "out" to everyone I know for over 10 years, and everyone has always liked my partner very much. Am I being petty for begrudging people the time to "get used to" this new development?

I tell myself that since I eloped and didn't make a big deal about getting married, my friends and family feel they don't need to make a big deal, either. But even some "best wishes" e-mails would have been nice.

How do I go forward in dealing with these people? Do I allow my marriage to become some great, unspoken tension between me and the people I once considered close? Am I now free to ignore any future announcements sent by those who are snubbing me now?

GENTLE READER: Miss Manners has some information that will be as reassuring for you as it is discouraging for her. It is that people routinely ignore wedding announcements, shockingly rude as that is.

They know that they are supposed to send presents when they receive invitations to weddings, although it rarely occurs to them that they are also obligated to answer those invitations. But they fail to understand that when friends make an announcement -- whether formally or face to face -- it should elicit congratulations.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am always polite when co-workers with whom I am not friends say "What are you doing for the weekend (holiday, Christmas, Easter, etc.)?" Sometimes I say, "Nothing special" or "I haven't decided yet," but what I want to say is "None of your business" or "Why do you ask?"

Why are these people interested in what I am doing? I have absolutely no interest in their lives! My friends (and I do have some at work) either know what I'm doing because we've discussed it, or they know not to ask. Any boss I've ever had would never be so intrusive, nor would I to them.

How do I convey to these people that I find their questions annoying and intrusive so that they will stop asking?

And while we're on the subject, "How was your weekend?" is annoying as well. I don't care how their weekend was, so why should they care about mine? This one is easier to handle, however. I just say "Fine, thanks" and leave it at that.

GENTLE READER: And they don't say, "Fine in what way? Where were you? What did you do? What's the full story here?"

No, because Miss Manners doubts that they are burning with curiosity about your weekends and holidays. Asking is merely a polite convention. If you doubt this, try giving a detailed description of how you went to the grocery store, watched a DVD, had coffee with a neighbor, thought about exercising but never got around to it and so on. See if they hang on your every word.

Your "Fine, thanks" works. The equivalent, when asked for your plans would be something like, "Relaxing, I hope" or "I don't know, I have so much to do, I don't know where to start." There is no need to register annoyance at a mere show of politeness.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am no longer clear on what is the appropriate etiquette regarding periods of mourning. A close friend's mother died the day before Thanksgiving. While she had been ill for some time, her passing was rather more sudden than anyone expected, I believe.

Now the holiday season is upon us. I know it would be inappropriate to issue invitations to my friend for large gatherings. At the same time, I don't wish him to feel excluded or abandoned. Would it be appropriate to invite him to small dinners?

GENTLE READER: The reason you are not clear on this is that the situation is no longer clear. Since the demise of formal mourning, which specified the period of time that one did not go out socially, the bereaved all decide for themselves.

Thus it is equally possible to upset them by inviting them, as if had nothing happened, and by not inviting them, as if you have abandoned them. Miss Manners recommends asking your friend if he feels up to attending a party or if he would prefer a quiet dinner. If he is not venturing out socially yet, it would be kind of you to propose paying him a visit during the holidays -- a private one at which he can unburden himself without others present -- so that he is not left entirely alone.

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"You're not paying attention to me!"

As an accusation made by a parent, lover, teacher or boss, this used to be a serious charge. It led to the following pithy exchange:

"I was, too."

"Then what did I just say?"

"That I wasn't paying attention."

"No, before that."

"Before that?"

"Yes, before that."

"Don't you remember?"

"I'm asking if you do." But by this time, the accuser didn't remember exactly, either, and so the original discourse was resumed with the understanding that the wool-gatherer was on notice to look alert.

As this system worked fairly well, Miss Manners is astonished that parents, teachers, lovers and bosses now seem to be admitting defeat. At meetings and in classrooms, restrictions against using telephones and personal keyboard devices are being eased. Parents and lovers who used to express outrage at those who so much as diverted their gaze are more likely to say wearily, "Oh, go ahead," when told, "Let me just check my messages."

Why should their children, students, partners and employees pay attention when in possession of electronic alternatives? Those who are ignored may not put it that way, but they concede that modern distractions are more formidable than previous ones, which were limited to the solitary pursuits of doodling and daydreaming or the social ones of whispering and eye-rolling.

Miss Manners is puzzled at this acceptance of being snubbed to one's face. There is hardly a more direct insult than the demonstration that anything -- even a solitary game, or an unknown messenger -- would be better than having to endure listening to what is being said.

Acquiescence on the part of the speaker strikes her as evidence of a lack of confidence -- but of a sort that should not be confused with desirable humility. The society having accepted the idea that nothing is worthwhile unless it is entertaining, people are naturally worried about their ratings. Why wasn't the parental lecture or the classroom exercise so enthralling as to hold its audience spellbound?

The argument that banning electronic distractions is un-enforceable speaks to the same misplaced insecurity. Relatives and others with mere personal ties have been imbued with the idea that nothing is more important than work, the neglect of which would have dire consequences, so the necessity of keeping up with work trumps any claims they may have. Meanwhile, bosses and teachers have been imbued with the idea that nothing is more important than family, who are likely to suffer dire consequences unless they are permitted to keep in constant touch.

Whether any of the slighted individuals is worth anyone's attention, Miss Manners cannot say. Statistically, she would guess that the chances of real-life talk being at a higher level than most e-mail and voicemail is pretty good.

But she can and does say that it is rude to ignore someone who is present in favor of someone who is not. Unless it is out of consideration to give that person a chance to check his or her own messages in the hope of finding more interesting company.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: On an RSVP there is a request to reply by a certain date. Under this line there is line to write my name, but the line always starts with a pre-printed "M." What is the purpose of this and how is it to be used? I would really appreciate an answer.

GENTLE READER: So would the hosts, to the extent that they have all but written it out for you. In a generous burst of erroneous formality, they have even provided the first letter of your presumed honorific, Mr., Mrs., Miss, Ms. (there must not be any physicians, countesses or lieutenants on their list) or some combination thereof. In a less charitable mood, they threatened you with a deadline.

Personally, Miss Manners answers formal invitations correctly, with her own little hand. But all you have to do to use the card is to add what letters you like to the "M" and add your name.

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