Sentimental Journey

They say not to look back, but if you’re not sure what lies ahead, what else is there but looking back?
― Laurell K. Hamilton

Looking back through life, you will find the pleasure of achieving your dreams is always greater than the pain you met while achieving them.
― Moffat Machingura

The years go by. The time, it does fly. Every single second is a moment in time that passes. And it seems like nothing–but when you’re looking back… well, it amounts to everything
— Ray Bradbury

For Christmas, one of the things I shared with my sisters was a series of home movies made when we were kids that I’d had converted to DVD format. I wish I’d done it years ago, because they were pretty degraded in quality.

Still, it was kind of fun to take that walk down memory lane with what the company that did the conversion was able to salvage. And now I can take that sentimental journey any time I’m feeling nostalgic without having to worry about further corrupting those old, Super 8 film reels.

But a couple of weeks ago I took a sentimental journey of another kind. I can’t remember exactly what prompted it, other than a big attack of writerly angst, but I started going back over some of my early blog posts. I was curious to see what, if anything, had changed in the last 15 years.

While naturally a lot has changed in that time, I was more focused on my blog posting. What I discovered was that in the beginning my posts were shorter but more frequent, and I had no structure as to what and when I was posting.

But then I went down this dark rabbit hole when I realized how little other things had changed. It was a little depressing really, and I sure don’t need any help in that department.

When things aren’t going well, sometimes it can be really hard not to dwell in the past, but I have to agree with Henry Ward Beecher, who said: Too much looking backward… is bad for progress.

How about you, do you often take a sentimental journey? And do you enjoy the trip?

That Time of Year

You will never find anybody who can give you a clear and compelling reason why we observe daylight saving time.
— Dave Barry

I don't really care how time is reckoned so long as there is some agreement about it, but I object to being told that I am saving daylight when my reason tells me that I am doing nothing of the kind. I even object to the implication that I am wasting something valuable if I stay in bed after the sun has risen. As an admirer of moonlight I resent the bossy insistence of those who want to reduce my time for enjoying it. At the back of the daylight saving scheme I detect the bony, blue-fingered hand of Puritanism, eager to push people into bed earlier, and get them up earlier, to make them healthy, wealthy and wise in spite of themselves.
— Robertson Davies

An extra yawn one morning in the springtime, an extra snooze one night in the autumn is all that we ask in return for dazzling gifts. We borrow an hour one night in April; we pay it back with golden interest five months later.
— Winston Churchill

It’s that time of year again, when I complain about the time change.

Less than 40% of the world changes to DST in the spring and back to standard time in the fall. In 2020, Scientific American published an article about how governments are considering abolishing it and sticking to just one time, but I’m still waiting to see this being implemented.

“Spring forward, fall back.” The fall time change isn’t so bad because we gain an hour, but I’ve yet to meet anyone who enjoys the spring, when we lose an hour.

Did you know your risk of a stroke or heart attack increases soon after a time shift? And it’s already been proven there’s an increase of traffic fatalities and other accidents due to the spring time change.

This is because it’s not just a change of an hour, it’s a misalignment of your circadian rhythm. Whenever we disrupt our circadian rhythm it increases our stress response, which in turn takes a toll on the heart and brain.

When you’re in standard time, the sun at noon (in most places) is right above your head. When you’re in daylight saving time for eight months of the year, you’re an hour off. You’re getting not enough light in the morning, and too much light in the evening. And it only gets worse when summer approaches because the days are getting longer and you’re getting light well into the evening when you should be getting less light so your body can get ready for bed.

If we do get rid of the transition, the best option is to stay on standard time, getting rid of daylight savings time. This is because light is important for our well being, our mood, and our sleep. Ask anyone whose mood is affected by too many dark days.

Getting enough light, especially in the winter, is critical. With permanent standard time we have our light in the morning, when we need it, and you have dark in the summer, when we need it. With permanent daylight saving time we get too much light too late in the evening and we have trouble falling asleep because we need the dark to create enough natural melatonin.

Unfortunately, if we do get a permanent time, daylight savings will most likely be our new standard. As far as I’m concerned it doesn’t matter as long as we stay consistent. If I can make the adjustment twice a year, I’m sure I can adjust when it’s the rest of my life.

In 2020, legislation was passed by the Ford government to do away with the time change. However, it can’t be enacted until the province of Quebec and the state of New York are ready to follow suit. And it appears the wheels of government drag very slowly.

In March of this year, the Sunshine Protection Act, a bill that “makes daylight saving time the new, permanent standard time, effective November 5, 2023,” was passed by the U.S. Senate. But it still has to make it through congress, and then the president before it can be made a law.

So cross your fingers, maybe 2023 will the last time we see the time change.

They’re Baaaack . . .

When the mouse laughs at the cat, there's a hole nearby.
― Nigerian Proverb

If one mouse is a spark...then ten thousand are a conflagration.
― Carmen Agra Deedy

A mouse never entrusts his life to only one hole.
— Plautus

I wasn’t going to post about this today because I already talked about it on my other blog, although the focus there was on why I didn’t get much writing done last week.

Anyway . . . remember back to the beginning of May when I shared the problem we were having with mice in the house? Between the traps and the cat, 13 mice were sent to meet their maker. There was a 14th mouse, but he figured out how to eat the peanut butter from the trap without setting it off. We stopped baiting the trap and after a few days we didn’t see any mouse signs. Problem solved.

Or so we thought.

Now, a little backstory is required. I have never seen any signs of a mouse in my office. This despite the fact I used to keep a secret stash of snacks in my bottom desk drawer and chocolate on my desk.

In an effort to be healthier, I stopped stashing snacks, although I did keep the Kinder eggs (foil-wrapped chocolate eggs with a plastic bulb inside containing a toy) for the granddaughter and I to share when she came to visit on Sundays in that drawer.

In August I picked up a few eggs and left them on my desk because they were a little soft from the heat, but we never got around to eating them.

Last week, when I was cleaning my office, I discovered the Lindt chocolate bar I’d been given for Christmas, that I’d only eaten half of and left in the small bookcase I keep my tea things on, had been chewed on. There were also mouse droppings on the bookcase. Can we say Ewwwww?

This called for a more thorough cleaning of the office, which is when I discovered that one of the Kinder eggs on my desk had been broken into:

There was an open baggy of dark chocolate on the desk that hadn’t been touched, nor had my Werther’s caramels that I keep in a jar. The bottle of Planters Peanuts in my stash drawer, however, had the crap chewed out of the lid. It was still sealed, but it still went into the trash.

So I thoroughly cleaned my office and when I moved things around to vacuum in all the corners I discovered the remains of a Kinder egg in a corner by the bookcase under my window. And by remains, I mean the half-chewed plastic bulb, the toy/prize, and a few flecks of foil from the wrapper.

Once I was done cleaning I scattered little bundles of cloves done up in cheesecloth around the room (I had an aunt who swore by cloves to keep rodents away) and figured that was that.

But late Saturday night, the hubby reached for the Cadbury chocolate that he keeps in a caddy beside his recliner in the living room, and what do you know? It had been nibbled on. He’s kept chocolate there for months, and there’s never been any sign of a mouse. I guess the word is out in the mouse kingdom that we no longer have a cat.

So he rebaited the trap we had in the dining room, and it wasn’t long before there was a snap. He caught a second one shortly after, and a third one sometime during the night. We really need to figure out where they’re getting in.

And I think it’s time to start kitten shopping.