Keeping up with the daily news is like watching an intense tennis match. One could get whiplash with the extreme back and forth in national and world events:
The peace deal is on.
Oops, the peace deal is off.
Bombing has stopped.
Oops, rockets are flying again.
Gas prices are down a little.
Oops, they went back up again.
And on and on and on…
I try not to focus a lot on the news as it’s so depressing most of the time, and that helps keep me emotionally centered most of the time, although I often fight the impulse to toss my phone across the room and declare the situations are all hopeless.
Then I run across a quote like this from Swedish diplomat Alva Myrdal, “It is not worthy of a human being to give up.”
Her words remind us that assures us that resilience and tenacity are important qualities we all share. We need that tenacity now more than ever if we are going to stand strong against all that is wrong, especially in government in Washington.
Myrdal was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1982 for her distinguished work with the nuclear disarmament movement, influencing the eventual deal between the United States and Soviet Union to abandon their nuclear weapons during the Cold War. Through her work people can see the possibility for hope, virtue, and peace to triumph.
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Now about those cherries. Recently I unearthed a copy of a column I’d most likely written after a futile attempt to get one of my kids to admit to one misdemeanor or another. We mothers can all relate to asking who took the pie out of the refrigerator, hoping beyond hope to get to the bottom of a perplexing mystery, only to be met with blank stares and mumbled responses.
When I wrote my weekly humor column, sometimes my imagination took an interesting turn.
This is the great Sherlock Heslock reporting live from the scene of my latest mystery that was solved by my brilliant and unsurpassed deductive powers.
The setup was this: Two days after a birthday and one piece of birthday cake was left with eight cherries on it. The last piece of cake was reserved for the birthday boy and the mother was risking life and limb to protect the cake from a house full of sneak thieves.
As the day wore on, the cherries started to disappear. First there were seven, then there were six. Then three disappeared all at one time. The mother kept hovering in the kitchen doorway, trying to catch one of the thieves sneaking into the refrigerator, but that proved to be a futile effort.
Sigh… if only she’d asked sooner, I could have saved her all that frustration.
By the time she called me into the case, nailing the culprit, or culprits, appeared hopeless. All the cherries were gone and she didn’t have a suspect or a clue.
Well, she might have thought finding a solution was hopeless, but, of course, I knew immediately what was happening. It was those darn Tindlebugs. The brothers and sisters of the birthday boy would not take the last piece of birthday cake, nor would they stoop so low as to snitch the cherries off the top.
After all, there’s a certain code of honor even among sibling rivals.
When I presented my theory to the mother, she laughed. “How could some… What did you call them? Tittle bugs? How could they open that great big refrigerator door?”
“Tindlebugs. They’re called Tindlebugs. And it’s obvious that you don’t know much about them,” I replied. “They’re among the most ingenious and enterprising members of the insect world. They most likely stood on each other’s shoulders until one of them could reach the handle and let the others get inside.”
“Oh sure! And where did they get the strength to open the door? A crash course in bodybuilding?”
“Well, okay. So they had to have help… hmmm.” Here’s where I pause to smooth my moustache and consider for a moment. “Ah. That’s simple. They called on their friend the monster.”
“You’re trying to tell me that a bunch of little bugs got a monster to open my refrigerator door. Then took all the cherries off the top of the cake? And I suppose they’re the ones who dropped the frosting on the floor in my daughter’s closet?”
“Well. They had to have some place to eat the cherries.”
“Right. And next I suppose you’re going to try to make me feel sorry for them. Give them families and babies and names.”
“Aha! How astute. Since they’re living in your home, you are entitled to know their names. The monster is, ‘I Don’t Know.’ And the little guy in the corner with the red stains around his mouth is, ‘Not Me.'”
That’s all from me for today folks. I hope you enjoyed meeting Sherlock Heslock and the Tindlebugs, and I bet I’m not the only one who had them visit a time or two or three. Whatever the week ahead holds for you, I hope there is a bit of fun in the works somewhere. Take care. Be safe. Be happy. And above all, be kind.
