This really works

 

Should you ever wish to slow down time or stop it altogether, it is possible.  There are a few things you’ll need, the first being a cold jar of molasses, a priceless painting by one of the masters, and a wobbly, unstable shelf.

Lay the painting below the shelf.  Balance the open jar of cold molasses along the very edge of the shelf.  Open the door to the next room and let the cat in.

There, within the murky swirl of potential, you’ll find the second hand on your watch has slowed considerably and your microwave is once again flashing 12.

 

Time and Temperature

 

 

Without even looking outside I can tell it is winter.  It seems like in no time at all my coffee cup goes from very hot to cold.  Just picking it up for another sip tells me many things.

Even though I have not noticed any change in the room temperature, the heat emanating from my coffee has exceeded the speed of light.

That, in itself, suggests the scientists have been wrong all these years.

It’s sort of like that saying, In the blink of an eye.  That does not refer to speed at all, like many people think.  It is actually associated with wind and wind direction, for it is mostly tiny particles that get blown into your eye at the exact moment you blink.  However, over the years, sayings like that become distorted and when mixed with different languages and time zones, their meanings sometimes become wonky.

Baking a cake, for example.  Right on the box is a chart showing times and temperatures, along with a hint about higher elevations.  Wedding cakes are usually higher than normal bakery window cakes.  Those might be two layers max, and often subjected to the rays of the sun, drying them out and eventually creating unsightly cracks.

Those are not good selling points and should be taken out of the window before something like that ever happens.  Once again, it’s all about timing.

Not to be confused with homemade pies, left on a window ledge to cool.  But that should never take place during winter.  If in doubt, feel your coffee cup.

 

 

 

 

If you've ever wondered...

 what I do when I'm not playing on this Blog...

I spend my time wisely

playing solitaire.

Not really my

 

Out of Control

 

The true story of how one racoon family grew so fat they needed specially built wheelchairs to get around the neighborhood.

It all began when I received a trail camera for a present.  I was excited to see what wildlife was passing through my backyard when I was sleeping.

I read the booklet and watched a YouTube video on how to set it up and get it going.  Then I attached it to a tree in the backyard.  Once that was ready to go, I put a handful of treats out in front of the camera.  Whatever it was, I would get to see them stop by for a late-night snack.

The following morning the pile of treats was gone but there were no images on the camera.  I removed it from the tree and went through all the settings again to make sure I had done it correctly.  It all looked good.

I reattached it to the tree and flipped it on.  I then replaced the pile of treats with a new pile and headed back into the house.  The following morning the treats were gone and again there was nothing captured on the camera.

This entire process was repeated every day throughout the week.  Treats were gone and no animals showed up on the night vision camera.

The next time I took everything apart I decided to recheck the batteries.  They were all dead.  I replaced them with new, fully charged ones and set everything all up again, placing yet another pile of treats out for the night.

Eventually, the amount of time I had the trail camera exceeded the time limit on returning it.  It was a failure, I was sure of it.  I had done everything per their instructions and it just wasn’t recording anything except for me walking away after turning the thing on.

Over the following weeks I gave up on the camera, but the racoons were still coming to my back door, pounding on it, wanting more treats.  I felt bad allowing them to believe this was going to be an on-going event, but what could I do?  I had gotten them hooked.  I just kept feeding them, setting out a little water dish and watching them show up now with their babies.

This entire thing had gotten out of control, and I expected the city would eventually come around asking me if I had a problem or if these were my pets.  I did snap a picture of them through the sliding glass door.

 

 

After Hours

 

There are worse things than being

accidently trapped inside a bakery

but not many better.

Board to death

 

I can envision my life as a piece of wood.  Not all edges are smooth and there are several nicks here and there.  I acquired a few splinters during my formative years but survived each one with little discomfort.

I never really knew if I were to be a small part of something much bigger or maybe be content becoming a simple doorstop.  Shaped like a wedge of cheese, using my slight knowledge of physics to keep the wind from slamming the door, which by the way is 50 times bigger than myself.

As it turned out, I was to be nothing more than a trimmed off end of something else.  I have no idea where the rest of me went, but I’m sure it was important.  If it was my destiny to simply be a leftover, that’s okay.  If nothing else, I can add to the scent of the lumberyard. 

And just maybe, someone might have a project in mind that requires bits of wood.  I’ll fit right in.  Who knows where I might end up?  I can’t really recall ever being a tree.  You’d think I’d remember something like that but I don’t and I don’t think I want too.  Cut down in the prime of life.  Leaves and branches gone, being feed through some giant machine, cutting me into two by fours, planks and boards.  Sort of a sad death when you think about it, and that lumberyard smell you so much enjoy...  It smells like a graveyard to us. 

Take a few steps into the forest and breath in.  You'll see the difference.