My space-time continuum is happiest when it’s spring, and we here in the Midwest, get daylight later in the evening.  I know the history, pros and cons of Daylight Savings Time, but for me – it’s fine to get up when it’s dark.  I just love the light in the evening.  So this fall, when we return to “standard time,” and perhaps forever keep it, I will be sad.

               This year, there was a wrinkle in the setting of the clocks.  For eighteen seasons, my car clock has changed the time automatically for me in both spring and fall.  This spring, it did not change.  So I did the smart thing and got out my rarely-used car manual.  Turning to the index, and finding “setting the clock,” I turned to the section indicated – 5.5. Well, I tried to.

               I found 4.9 and 5.12, but there simply wasn’t a 5.5.  So I did the next smart thing.  I looked it up on youtube.

               There I found a helpful video that said go to your “settings” and choose “set time.” My settings button gave me the option to change the display of my speedometer, to change my speed warning setting, and to change what trip mileage I was counting.  It did not, however, give me any type of clock option.

               So I drove around for several weeks (it seemed longer) with my car clock telling me a time that was one hour earlier than reality.

               While the real-time change doesn’t bother me at all, this erroneous car clock completely bamboozled me.  I know this because it messed up my equilibrium and balance.

               After three weeks of this time-space disturbance in my life, I was having a typical day, playing with my husband and our grandson.  As I have often done, I grabbed a toy and began running around the family room, circling chairs, crying out “I have the toy bus, I have the toy bus.” This behavior always elicits massive giggles and a little toddler chasing me.

               I decided to end the game by opening the bathroom door and pretending to “hide” in the bathroom.  This is another normal event that typically results in more giggling and then knocking at the door, with the little guy saying, “open de door!”

               However, my internal clock had been disturbed.  I was off my game.  It was a tear in the space-time continuum…

               As I went to open the bathroom door, I didn’t realize it was already unlatched – so it gave way easily.  Just as I noted that I was going at a great pace than expected through the doorway, my toe caught the carpet and hurtled me into space on a horizontal level.

               The door crashed open.  I did a flying pretzel move in the air, somehow managing to scrape both knees on the hard floor while stopping my forward motion quite suddenly with my head – as the back of it crashed into the our incredibly sturdy and hard bathroom vanity.  Meanwhile, the toy bus I was carrying became lodged in the crook of my arm- bruising my inner arm both below and above the elbow.

               I wasn’t bleeding anywhere, and one ice pack later I could walk normally.  Just some bruising that hurts and a scraped knee.  Oh, and now our grandson knows the miracle cure of ice in a baggie!

               I am convinced, however, that this accident would never have happened if my car clock had just been correct.  This time-space issue was corrected by my wonderful husband – who called the helpline for the car and was able to find the means to change the clock.

               When my clocks are right, it means no more head crashing for me!

            March 20^th has been designated in the Presbyterian Church as Mr. Rogers’ Day.  Mr. Rogers, that iconic television show host of yore, was many things – a husband, father, Presbyterian minister, television icon, and musician among others.  But the most important designation, according to him, was that he was a Christian.

            His famous “won’t you be my neighbor?” was not used without significant thought.  He used the term “neighbor” both deliberately and in the Biblical sense.  Mr. Rogers felt that all the world was a neighborhood, and thus all the people in it were (and are) our neighbors.  He taught and lived that all people should be treated in a neighborly fashion  – with love at best, and respect and compassion at the least.

            So on this day of celebration in honor of Mr. Rogers, we are asked to remember our neighbors and to reach out by simply doing kind things.

            Kindness is a pretty great gift, when you think about it, because it doesn’t have to cost anything and it doesn’t have to take a great deal of time.  Of course, it can take both time and money, but it really doesn’t need to do either.  All that’s required is a little thought on the part of the giver.  A means to reach out and show another person – a neighbor – that you care and are there for them.  That they matter.  That every life is valuable.

            Another benefit of kindness is that it’s good for the giver too.  It’s not only good for mental health, but also good for physical well-being.  Kindness has been shown to increase self-esteem, empathy and compassion, and improve mood. It can decrease blood pressure and cortisol, a stress hormone, which directly impacts stress levels. People who give of themselves in a balanced way also tend to be healthier and live longer.

            So, what can we do to show kindness? It can be something simple, of course.  Holding a door open for another person, smiling at a passerby, saying hello, or paying a compliment are all ways to show kindness.

            Asking someone how they are doing – and really listening to the answer – is another wonderful act of kindness.

            We can show kindness to those delivery people who make our lives so much easier – leaving a compliment, making a sign, leaving a bottle of water – all easy ways to show caring.  For Amazon delivery folks, we can even leave a compliment through Alexa.  Monthly, Amazon awards prizes to the delivery person who gets the most “thank yous.”  So kindness is a ripple that makes a wave.

            You can use your own small world to increase kindness in the larger one.  Send emails or free cards to lift up the spirits of folks you know.  Post kind words on social media, and lift up others with compliments and encouragement. Remember to thank police, fire, medical, and workers in 24/7 facilities (such as convenience stores) for their service and hard work.

            If you feel like spending money, most will appreciate real cards, donations of donuts, fruit, etc.  But in general, the kindness that you share without spending a dime will reap generous rewards.

            If we want kindness to be part of our world in the future, we must be part of the wave in the present.  So celebrate Mr. Rogers’ Day with some acts of kindness. You’ll feel better for it!

               Lately, I’ve been noticing increased difficulty with the way products are packaged. For decades now, most of us have struggled with the dilemma of hot dogs and hot dog buns.  Unless you are preparing franks for forty friends, the manufacturers of these products have tormented us for years by packing ten dogs per container and eight buns.  So no matter what you do, someone’s either going to have a hot dog by itself, or on bread.  Honestly, you’d think they’d figure this out – it’s second-grade math!!

               But until recently that was my main gripe about packaging.  That, and of course, the childproof tops that are put on most medications.  Apparently, adults are simply too dumb to put medications up high or in a locked cabinet.  So they invented these lids that kids can’t get off.  As it turns out, neither can anyone with arthritic fingers, carpel tunnel, or a sprained wrist – all things that typically require the need for medication in these bottles.  I’ve taken to hammering them open and then putting the pills (the ones still intact) in another container. 

               Then I started noticing other packaging problems.  Maybe it’s because I’m older and need these products now or because I have more time to consider such weighty problems, but here’s an annoying fact.  A couple of cold medicine manufacturers have helpfully begun packing daytime and nighttime medications in one convenient package.  These medications are to be taken six times a day.  Again, a little second-grade math would make a reasonable person think, “Oh we should give them half as much nighttime, or 50% more daytime meds.” But no, they give us equal amounts.  I have at least five packages or bottles, all half full, of nighttime medication.  Let me get a head cold, and there won’t be a drop of daytime in the house. 

               I’ve also encountered a challenge in opening any toy that is for a toddler.  First, they put the toys in plastic (so you can see them) and mount them to a cardboard back or base.  To do this, they apparently use the glue that holds rocket ships together.  Just in case that’s not sufficient, they then zip-tie them to the cardboard – and so tightly that you can’t get scissors or a knife blade in between the tie and the board.  It’s always fun to surprise a toddler with such a gift – that age group being known for its’ patience and tolerance while waiting for anything, especially a toy they can see.

               Yesterday I went to the store to purchase some shampoo.  Unless you buy a trial/travel-sized bottle, you typically get some ginormous thing that holds about 45 ounces (or more)!  These are so big that no one with normally-sized hands can actually hold it in one hand and squeeze a little bit into the other hand, especially not in a shower during which you are typically wet.  I suppose if you’re in the tub, you can hold it between your knees, but it’s hardly convenient.

               The bottle actually slipped this morning and had I been standing just a half inch to the left, I’m sure it would have broken my toe.  So I’m reduced to squeezing some out into one of the travel-sized containers every week or so, just to be safe.

               And let me just end by saying the bacon people aren’t fooling anyone!  Prices of bacon have stayed strangely and relatively the same as years ago.  But the amount of bacon has NOT!  For the price I used to buy a pound of bacon, I can now get about six strips.  That’s almost a whole day’s worth!

               Argh.  I need to find out when and where these packaging gurus meet.  I’m sure they’d love to have me as a keynote speaker at their next conference!

The older I get, the more I know but the less I seem to understand.  I have countless examples of things that befuddle me, but I’ll start with the most frequent thing in my life.

               Weight.  I have grappled with my weight for the better part of thirty years now, trying all kinds of diets.  Not eating works…but that’s a difficult one to sustain, for obvious reasons.  I’ve had a great deal of success with a ketogenic diet – over the past three years, I’ve lost twenty pounds and they’ve stayed lost.

               But going the next ten pounds has been a conundrum.  I can eat nothing but salad and coffee for a day and the next day my scale tells me I’ve gained a pound.  So, in a fit of pique, I skulk off to do errands, buy a snack bag of potato chips, and sit in my car, eating furtively and somewhat defiantly, until every last crumb is gone.

               The next day, I step balefully onto the scale and voila!  I’m down a half pound.

               I’m sure there is a metaphysical explanation that would explain in metabolism, calorie burn, and chemical reactions, but…still.  I just don’t understand.

               Another thing that puzzles me is shopping cart behavior.  I assume the carts don’t typically roll themselves into strange places – unless it’s an incredibly windy day.  So it seems strange to me to see grocery carts in the middle of parking spaces, in the middle of aisles, or – my favorite – right next to the shopping cart corral.  Seriously?  We couldn’t take it six inches further?

               A couple of stores have helpfully placed large signs in front of the two rows of the cart corral – one for “small carts” and one for “large carts.”  These signs even have pictures, just in case you need them.  So I don’t understand when I see carts of both sizes in both rows. 

               I feel sorry for the employee who has to pull them out one at a time and put them in the correct order to get them back to the store so WE can use them.  Doesn’t matter if it’s snowing, sleeting, raining, or hotter than blazes, they have to correct our laziness.

               I don’t get it.

               Here’s another thing that I don’t understand – cats.  Our cat, in particular.  She’s a big girl; I bet she tops the scales at 12 or 13 pounds.  For all that, she can creep around the yard, catching mice, chipmunks, and even the occasional mole.  She is stealth, personified. 

               Anyway, she can be really quiet – sneaky, even.  So the other night, we were watching TV and we heard footsteps on our back porch.  Thump, thump, thump.  I said to my brave husband, “who’s out there?”

               He – always quick to defend our castle – called loudly from the comfort of his recliner, “Who’s there?  Hello?”

               There was no answer.  Then we heard the thumping again.  Hubby finally got up from his chair and opened the back door.  There the intruder was!  Our cat – jumping up and down from the railing to let us know it was time for her to come in.

               When we try to find her in the house to put her out, she lurks around, soundlessly, going up and down stairs and who knows where – if she doesn’t want to go out.  But let us go to bed and turn out the lights – there’s a herd of elephants coming up the stairs to our bedroom.  The squeaking and purring is amplified as she jumps onto the bed and prowls around, trying to find the best place to sleep.  Normally it’s at the foot of our bed, but that’s only after she’s tried both of our pillows and our legs.

               I’ll add it to the growing list of things I don’t understand.