Once upon a time, a very long time ago now, about last Friday...

Winnie-the-Pooh lived in a forest all by himself under the name of Sanders. Actually, it was the Friday before last.

In this endless summer/nonexistent winter the groundhog will emerge tomorrow to open the windows and turn on the ceiling fans. With its big teeth it will snarl, "Don't make me turn on the air conditioner!"

Time perception is my current preoccupation, following size and number considerations. Been listening to Krys Boyd's "Think" interview with Alan Burdick, author of Why Time Flies. It's a pleasant way to spend time compared to the time I spent waiting for IT to fix my time-saving computer earlier today. Was that really just today?

The past two weeks have been one really long scream preceded by, okay, a couple months of severe numbness and shock. The doctor would ask, "When did you begin experiencing this pervasive sense of doom? Why do you say it is getting worse? " Alas, I only have anecdotes, no contemporaneous records using a standard angst-o-meter.

How long is the interval:
  • Between landing and actually exiting the airplane?
  • Between paychecks?
  • Between haircuts?

Arrange on a continuum by length:
  • Webinar from one to two-thirty
  • The first snow day off school in a blizzard
  • The third consecutive snow day

As a child I loved feeding nickels and dimes into parking meters on the streets of downtown Lincoln. An hour was ten cents if I recall correctly. What a concept! I was buying time with coins. My parents approved this childish diversion, as it didn't involve gumballs or pony rides at Hinky Dinky. It should come as no surprise that You Tube is full of people who collect and refurbish vintage parking meters, possibly even the very parking meters decapitated by Paul Newman at the beginning of "Cool Hand Luke."

But what about "buying time," that present participle of the third-person singular simple present?
  • (idiomatic) Purposefully cause a delay to something, in order to achieve something else. We need you to buy us some time, so distract the security guard for a few minutes. SEE Supreme Court nominations.
  • Increase the time available for a specific purpose.  Renting an apartment buys them time to look around for a new house in Charlotte. 

Although we no longer appreciate, respect, or need experts, this timely news is in from the Bulletin of Atomic Scientists who have been tending the Doomsday Clock for seventy years now:

It's 2 1/2 minutes till midnight.

"The board’s decision to move  the 
clock less than a full minute reflects
 a simple  reality: As this statement
 is issued, Donald Trump has been the
US president only a matter of days."


© 2013-2017 Nancy L. Ruder


No eels is good eels

Swimming upstream all week against the eels and the executive orders. My eel anxiety is totally irrational. My executive order anxiety is sane and prudent.

The eels are not in my overalls. The lemon is not there either. I checked. I've been looking everywhere for the lemon. It is not in the fridge, freezer, pantry, or car trunk. It did not roll into the laundry closet.

Eric Clapton is singing, "I lost the lemon, but I did not buy the tartar sauce." My jaunt to Tom Thumb was specifically to buy tartar sauce for the tilapia, but then I was ambushed by a hoard of cookie-pushing Girl Scouts.

Winston and Julia did not have rodents down their overalls, nor Bounce dryer sheets. The rats were in a cage hooked to Winston's face.

And now back to the big closet cleanout.

© 2013-2017 Nancy L. Ruder


Magic words and Amazon incantation.

Amazon Prime is terrific except when it doesn't work. Then one has the challenge of searching for the magic lamp and tackling amazing feats to get consumer relief. 

You can take your tracking number and 

Oh, PLEASE, no, don't do that!  Use your magic words instead.

THANK YOU for the help of the UPS web site. A genie named Orlando actually responded with useful information.


Use your magic words to open sesame the help folks at Amazon. If your order does not arrive, or shows "delivered" when is didn't/wasn't be sure to bibbity bobbity this boo:


© 2013-2017 Nancy L. Ruder