About Time

I’ve been thinking about time lately—the tick and the tock of it. Sixty seconds turn into a minute, sixty minutes into an hour, sixty hours into a ...pauses to count rapidly...a long weekend? And would you please stop saying sixty already, I’m feeling that personally.

When I was parenting young children, the laws of time seemed more like serving suggestions than anything resembling actual laws. Someone told me that when it comes to parenting “the days are long, but the years are short” and that resonated.

Time flies---and it must fly like a mosquito because it seems we are always trying to kill it. If we think of time as a law of nature, Spring arrives on this day, at that hour. Summer will arrive at her appointed time as well. Then somebody mentions Leap Year and time seems more of a social construct than anything else; a community agreement we’ve all agreed to. 

Take Daylight Savings Time for example—except Arizona opted out of that one. “Nope,” they said, “Just not feeling it. Social contract, smocial contract. Sorry, not sorry, do not agree.”

 

Recently, I traveled across several time zones and back over a three-week period. Living on the edge—as I am wont to do—I made my journey on the eve of daylight savings time. I felt it was a good way to “share the jetlag”—sure, I was now four-instead-of-three hours behind everybody in the Big City, but my thinking was they would all be so blurry-eyed over “springing forward” the next morning that my exhaustion would seem “normal.”

 

During that three-week stretch I went from PST to EST—followed immediately by EDT. Eventually, I

This is NOT my cousin's farmhouse
Her's is livable. But you have to admit
that's a pretty cool house.

ended up in MDT—only to spend the next week dancing back and forth between Mountain Time and Central Time because Kansas is a hot mess when it comes to time. The counties that border Colorado are MT, the rest are CT. We stayed in my cousin’s family farmhouse in Cheyenne County—Mom! Colorado is touching me! —and driving down one of the gravel roads you could experience 5pm on the left-hand side of the car and 4 pm on the right-hand side of the car. 

Thus, proving the old adage it’s always five o’clock somewhere –and that’s undoubtably why the chicken crossed the road.

Bonus Content:

Big City, NYC

Bird City, Kansas

City Food (Peruvian) from Pio Pio

Back: Lomo Saltado Back: Filet mignon strips, stir-fried with soy sauce, spices, red onions, cilantro, tomatoes, served over french fries with white rice.

Front: Ceviche Limeño (Spicy) A Classic Peruvian Seafood Dish (raw) Tossed with a Citrus Juice Marinade. Diced corvina, lime juice, red onions, cilantro, rocoto pepper.

Kansas Food from Big Ed's
where the steak is apparently served by the pound

Kansas: Sunrise in the FlatLands

Mid day in Colorado Springs, looking at Pike's Peak

Garden Gate: The Origin Story

 

What do greedy elk, unhappy gardeners,  a busy editor (and alligators) have to do with creating Over My Garden Gate? A friend asked me the other day how I came to write Over My Garden Gate for the Highway Shopper.

What a good question, I’d be happy to tell you. (Apologies to TikTok content creator Elise Myers, but she lives in my head now. If you don't know her, go google her name and tacos, you'll be glad you did.)

Now where was I?

It all started in 2014, one beautiful July Friday when editor Dave Bunting was up to his elbows in alligators and wasn’t going to have time to write an extra column regarding preventing elk damage to local landscaping. He asked if somebody would be willing to write a couple hundred words on the various elk deterrent sprays.

Sure, I said. How hard could it be, I said. Leave it to me, I said.

30 minutes later I still hadn’t found an opening paragraph that didn’t make me sleepy, or worse—cringey.

I walked back to his office and asked if I could just have fun with it, while still imparting the information he needed. 

“Sure,” he replied, fending off another alligator, “go right ahead.”

When alligators escape the sewers.
Alligators in offices may appear larger.

 

 I wrote 290 words--some words about chasing elk, clad only in a bath towel—me, not the elk. The elk wasn’t wearing anything but a smile, and a cheek full of petunias. Some of the other words I wrote even mentioned the defensive sprays…

While it probably wasn’t what Dave thought he was agreeing to, I enjoyed it. In fact, I enjoyed it so much I campaigned to write a weekly column-- and Over My Garden Gate was born. Seven years and approximately 357 printed columns--slightly fewer blog entries (287) because lazy-- later I still have lots of opinions to share and unsolicited advice to offer. Thank you, Gentle Reader, for coming along on this adventure with me, and happy 46th Anniversary to the Highway Shopper!

March

 We have achieved March! February, with all its extremes, is in the books. Was it just me or did February seem about three months long? Shortest month, my eye.

March is the month in which daylight savings time makes its long-anticipated return—hello more daylight! March is also the month of spring, so even if we get a rogue snowflake or two, we can comfort ourselves that it’s “only a spring snow,” guaranteed not to stick around for weeks on end. That’s what I tell myself anyway, and I believe me.

Some years, March is also the month of Re-Birth and chocolate bunnies, but not this year. In 2022, you’ll have to wait until April to get your egg dye out.

While Easter is sometimes a bonus March event, St. Patrick’s Day is a constant. Green shamrocks! Green beer! Green everything! There’s also something about “coming in like a lion and going out like a lamb”-- or is it “in like a lamb, out like a lion”? Anyway, I think it means that March is unpredictable—but its unpredictability is to be expected—with all that extra daylight you can even see it coming.

March is the month of kites, daffodil parades, Winter Carnival, and Girl Scout cookies. Covid numbers are down, and mask mandates are slated to be lifted. Wouldn’t it be nice if March was the month that saw a return to “normal?” I’m looking forward to it. 

Hello “Normal”!

To keep our “Back to Normal” as safe as possible, free at-home Covid tests are available thru the post office. Go to special.usps.com and fill out the form to get your four free tests. Limit of one order per address. Test results available as early as 30 minutes, no lab needed. You can also call 800-232-0233 if you need help placing your order. And I’m told that these tests do not require tickling your brain with a cotton swab in order to work efficiently.

What’s not to like? Free, fast, and nasal friendly.

Recount Requested

 My snow drops are up, and in full flower—the first flower of Spring at my house.

 My Jiffy Pots have been plumped and hydrated--- 

ready for the corn and bean and peas seeds that are putting in their 24 hours at the veggie seed spa that is my kitchen table.

 

I have made a plan to acquire my straw bales and start the “seasoning” process. I am ready for Spring. Let’s DO THIS THING!

Then I woke up to a mini blizzard on Monday. That’s right—snow.

It was my understanding that we were all on the “been there, done that, over it,” page. Did I miss a meeting? Is the consensus that we go back to colder temperatures and shoveling driveways and power outages? Because I don’t remember voting for this. 

Annie & Abby vote 
"Can haz Spring please."

I have lots of gardening chores that are still on my To Do List: giving my private hedge a high and tight haircut is near the top and I’d prefer not to do it in the snow. I’d appreciate it if ya’ll would join me in some magical thinking and get winter behind us.

Even the Indian Plums are ready...

Outdoors Indoors: Gardens, Books, and Some Talk about Cake

The weather the last few days have been glorious. Sunny. Warm. In February! Perfect time to go do those early spring garden chores—you know, the ones put off last fall. Cleaning debris from the flower beds, pulling a few early weeds, looking over the remains of the straw bale garden and planning a future one. I find myself lingering in the outdoors, savoring the scents and signs of new growth. Clearly, we are experiencing an early spring and I am all for it.

At the same time, I’ve been on a Good Book Roll—reading back-to-back-to-back novels, with excellent storytelling and enticing characters. All I want to do is indulge in the next chapter. And the chapter after that. And then on to the next book! READ ALL THE BOOKS! I stay up late reading and have to remind myself to go outside and play. Because-- as much as I am ready to declare SPRING HAS ARRIVED--I am aware of the transitory aspect of Mother Nature’s moods. She rarely—if ever—minds me, and the rain will return.

In the summertime, my way of solving the good book vs. play outside dilemma is talking books. Instead of bulky CDs, Timberland Library has a new and improve format for listening called “Playaway.” Playaway is a small, compact pre-loaded audiobook that is powered by AAA battery (included.) And by small I mean about the size of your old iPod, very pocket friendly. No other device, tech, or Wi-Fi connection is needed—but you do need to supply your own earbuds. Or an auxiliary cord if you want to listen in the car. Look for Playaway in orange cases-- about the size of a DVD case. Timberland has about a thousand titles available, which makes it easy to have your indoor cake and eat it outside. If the outdoors is cake—and a good book is like eating cake—then this metaphor seemed much better in my head.

Speaking of good books—Friends of the Library have books for sale at deeply discounted prices. Proceeds go to fun summer reading programs and other fun activities. In Packwood, books are also available for—literally—pocket change, at both the library and from The Mt. Goat Coffee Shop. Caffeine and books—an excellent combo! C.S. Lewis said, “You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me,” and I couldn’t agree more.

If you’d like to join Friends of the Library, their Zoom meetings are 6 pm, 3^rd Tuesday of each month. E-mail friendsofpackwoodlibrary@gmail.com for a link.

One Little Wordle

You may have seen strange little green and yellow boxes popping up on social media lately that 

look something like this:

If you’ve managed to stay above the fray—please allow me to change all that. Nothing makes me happier than to drag people down into the depths of my favorite obsession.

As obsessions go, Wordle is relatively benign. There is only one five-letter word, once a day, and you get six tries at it. Type in your word, hit enter. There are no clues to what the word is. Everybody gets the same word.  After the first try, the letters you used on the game board –and the keyboard—will show colors along with the letters. Dark Gray=wrong letter. Yellow=right letter, wrong place. Green=right letter, right place. Unless you are highly intuitive or super lucky, you now have five more tries to figure out the word. Isn’t this fun?!

Obviously, the key to success is having a good start word. Statistically, “ROATE” is supposed to be the most successful word. Yes, it’s a word. I looked it up. I still don’t know what it means—something to do with taxes and net earnings and my eyes crossed and I no longer cared-- but yes, it’s a word. If your word isn’t a word, the game will just “shake it off” and not let you enter it. The good news is it didn’t cost you a try. The bad news is you can’t deploy the Wheel of Fortune strategy and RSTLN the board.

Since I am all about those vowels, my favorite start word is “ADIEU.” I usually follow it up with “STORM” because—except for “and sometimes Y”—that’s the last vowel standing. And it employs some very popular consonants. In words, popularity counts. 

As do consonant blends: BL, CL, BR, CR, SPR, STR, etc. Getting the “wrong” answer can still be a clue, which is probably why I like this game, I am informed by my mistakes. 

I am often well informed. It is unlikely I will get the win in one or two tries—because the real guessing doesn’t start until round three. And yes, the game sometimes uses words with repeated letters. 

Sure, some people claim this game is highly addictive—BUT ---and here comes my rationalization--YOU CAN ONLY PLAY ONE WORD, ONCE A DAY—HOW COULD IT POSSIBLY HURT? 

Psst! You can find Wordle at powerlanguage.co.uk/wordle  

UPDATE: The New York Times bought them, so find it here:

https://www.nytimes.com/games/wordle/index.html

The NY Times is why we can't have nice things...

Like a Boss

So, here’s the scenario: it’s a dark and stormy night, you are two hours away from home. You need to find directions to your overnight accommodations, confirm dinner plans, and pick up a loved one at the airport early the next morning. You may or may not remember exactly when they are expected to land, or the flight number. You do remember the airline.

Here’s the complication: you have no cell phone. Totally expected plot twist—it is completely your fault. Also, it’s snowing but I’m pretty sure that’s not your fault.

So, what are you going to do? Problem solve like a BOSS, that’s what you’re going to do. And when I say problem solve like a boss, I mean like a mob boss. Specifically, Walter White. Actually, your game plan for problem solving like a boss looks like a combination of Breaking Bad meets Six Degrees of Separation.

Step One: go to Target, channel your inner WW, and buy a burner phone. Pretend you are researching how easy this is to do. Spoiler alert: super easy. However, I forgot to pay cash, so not really good at this Mob Boss thing, but I digress. It is less than $40, much cheaper/faster than a four-hour round trip to retrieve own phone.

Step Two: after the kind person at Target has set up the phone for you—because hello, Mob Boss here, not I.T. guy—call the one person whose number you know by heart. Yes, it is a landline.

Step Three: leave message, because of course they aren’t going to pick up a number they don’t recognize, who does that?

Step Four: call them back, hoping they’ve listened to the message and will now accept your call. They do, thankfully. You explain how pretty you are. They are aware.

Step Five: ask them for your son’s cell phone number. I would mention their car’s impending warranty expiration, but now does not seem like an ideal time.

Steps Six thru Eight—Repeating Step Three as necessary: get all the numbers you need to solve your dinner, accommodations, and airport pick up problem.

Step Nine: congratulate yourself on not letting “Pretty” be your only defining characteristic. “Problem Solver” is a good antidote to “Pretty.”

Step Ten: still manage to be an hour late for airport pickup because A) no map app, B) no traffic alerts, and C) PRETTY.

Moral of the Story: Memorize at least one phone number of someone who knows Your People. And pay cash. If you’re going to be a Pretty Mob Boss, might as well be an untraceable one. Because yes, I totally entered my name as Walter White on the burner phone.

Probably because I've left my keys somewhere...