Today is a very gray, rainy, November day with high temperatures in the mid-60s. Once upon a time, I used to find such days dreary, but years ago my attitude changed and I began to think of them as cozy.

The warmer temperatures make it more pleasant to feed the wild birds. On chillier mornings, I have to switch hands, putting one hand in my pocket to warm while the other holds out the seeds. I have gloves, but they are knit and I’m afraid the birds’ feet will get tangled in them so I haven’t been using them. EJ says he has in mind a type of glove we can buy from the farm store that will be perfect for feeding the birds.

The birds don’t all land on me at once so that I am covered in them. They land one, and sometimes two, at a time on my hand, while several others wait on the perch on the birdfeeder pole to wait their turn. It reminds me of planes landing and taking off from a major airport. I try to keep count of the number of times the birds land on my hand. My goal is to stay outside until their landings match or exceed the highest previous number, although it’s not set in stone. Sometimes I get too cold or fewer birds come on a certain day. Also, my goal will eventually become unreachable because the number of birds has increased over time: Yesterday 106 birds took seeds from my hand–and 5 more came later in the day when I went outside. When I’m done feeding the birds–usually when there’s a decrease in their landings–I pour seed into all the feeders for them.

The birds come most numerously in the morning when they are hungry, but they have started to quickly appear at other times of the day whenever I go outside. The birds obviously watch for me since sometimes I can only take a step or two outside before they begin flying in. Their quickness in appearing makes me more aware of how aware wildlife is of us humans. I’ve started keeping a small container of seeds in my pocket so I can feed them if/when they appear when I go outside throughout the day. I’d hate to disappoint my feathered friends.

Our beloved cat, Little Bear, died Friday morning. He was very old–15 or 16 years old. We adopted him when one December evening we heard a yowling outside. We opened the door and found a little black ball of fluff sitting there. He quickly climbed up our legs and into our hearts. He was a very loving, cuddly cat. It’s sad to lose him, but he had a good long life and I’m glad he’s not suffering. EJ buried him among the pine trees past the apple orchard.

Saturday we drove to our son’s place with the air-compressor to fill his car’s flat tires. He recently bought a pickup truck and is getting rid of his car, which has issues that he doesn’t want to fix. EJ took a scenic route to his place–although in the region where we live there is actually no un-scenic route. We were delayed for almost 30 minutes by a huge bicycle race whose route led them across the road we were traveling on. The police blocked the road for them and waved cars through whenever there was a break in the cyclists, but that wasn’t often. I didn’t mind the delay. The scenery was beautiful and it was interesting watching the cyclists and the bystanders cheering them on. I learned later that 5,000 cyclists from around the world race over a 30 mile course every year.

We had to turn the clocks back an hour Saturday night. I hate the twice-yearly time changes because they are so disruptive to us physically and to our routines. Hannah finds the change in schedules difficult to adjust to as well. She insists on being fed ON TIME and it always requires calculation and adjustment to figure out that yesterday she ate at 8 am and 6 pm but today that would change to 9 am and 7 pm or is it 7 am and 5 pm? Furthermore, when it gets dark outside, she begins to nag me to go to bed. I’m not going to bed at 5:30 p.m. We have a battle of wills.

I remember when I was a child there was a huge push for Michigan to get on Daylight Savings Time. Before that, we didn’t change the clocks. The main justification was that Daylight Savings Time would prevent children from having to walk to school in the dark. So I always assumed that Daylight Savings Time BEGAN in the Autumn and ENDED in the Spring. I think many people assume the same thing. But for some reason, last week I asked EJ if we were going on or off Daylight Savings Time and he said that we were currently on it and when we changed the clocks over the weekend, we would be going off it. That didn’t make sense to me so I had to look it up. He was correct. It still doesn’t make sense to me because that means that when we are ON Daylight Savings Time, the children are walking to school in the dark and when we are OFF it, the children are walking to school when it’s light. So if we never had Daylight Savings Time, the children would never walk to school in the dark. So why on earth do we have Daylight Savings Time?

Another reason often used to justify Daylight Savings Time is that it helps the farmers but EJ, who grew up on a farm, sarcastically says that farmers have electricity these days in both their barns and on their tractors. And on a dairy farm, cows don’t adjust their milking schedule according to the clock. So that argument is nonsense.

I would be happy if we got rid of Daylight Savings Time altogether.

I grew up deeply loving my parents and family. It was only later that I experienced/learned that my Mom was emotionally abusive and that my family was not the Waltons. I learned this when I stood up to my Mom and she turned the others against me and disinherited me. I’ve told my story elsewhere and don’t want to retell it now because it’s not the focus of this part of my post. I just want to set some background. I went through some painful years and still sometimes struggle with the damage but over the years, as I’ve recovered, I’ve been able to acknowledge the abuse and the damage, but also to recognize that there were things I learned that I value. One of the things I appreciate is that my Dad always took us to historical places on our vacations and my Mom often told us to imagine living during those times. For example, what it would have been like to have to cook meals over a fire or to raise, shear, and spin the wool from sheep to make clothes. I remember her making us watch historical events–such as Nixon resigning as president–even though I didn’t always understand the significance at the time because it was history. “Today’s events are tomorrow’s history,” she said.

All my life, I’ve watched various events, deliberately keeping in mind that “today’s events are tomorrow’s history.” Since 2020, I’ve paid intense attention to current affairs because I have been aware that we are living through some very historical events. And as I’ve paid attention, I have learned an immense amount about a variety of topics–government, law, history, science, crime, deception, and more. I’ve learned that many things I thought were true are not, that many people and institutions I thought were trustworthy are not. I learned that our country has come very, very close to being destroyed, but good people are fighting for it. I’ve felt a part of the world in a way that I never have before. I know that some people have gone through these years very unaware. I kind of feel sorry for them because they are missing an awareness that they are living through history. It won’t be quite the same if they merely read about it later in the history books.

Tomorrow is Election Day. It’s one of the most important Election Days in history. In one way or another, it will change the course of our country–and not just the USA, but the world. I’ve read posts by people around the world who are aware that our elections will affect them too. They are watching to see what happens. I read their messages of love, support, and prayers. I urge you to be part of history and vote. It matters.