Lock, Stock and Barrel

Hello World, Well, April has certainly been nobody's fool so far, and that's no joke, believe me. Not only has the impossible weather been all over the map, heck, it's been all over maps to places that haven't even been invented yet, and then some. I was driving to church on Sunday, which I would like to point out was technically April 3rd, and a car coming towards me was all covered with snow, thanks not. (Or to quote one wag on social media recently, "April showers bring snow plowers!") (Thanks, Jim!) Not to cast aspersions, but we have Bill to blame for at least some of the meteorological hazards lately, since his assiduous attention to picking up loose twigs in the yard no doubt ushered in the latest round of gale force winds to buffet the region - thereby releasing a veritable cornucopia of extra twigs, and making the yard look even worse than before, and once again, thanks so very much not. On one of those particularly blustery days, a tenant at work stopped by the office and complained that she went outside looking fine, and was going to go back looking like a wreck, and didn't think much of the idea, I can tell you that. But I said, looking on the bright side of things, at least they couldn't accuse her of going to the hair salon while she was out, obviously. She laughed. On the other hand, and once again, it seems that the ridiculous weather has had no impact on the continued parade of delightful spring flowers everywhere, as our yard has exploded with grape hyacinth on all sides, with perky star flowers giving them a run for their money as well. I believe that I even saw early azalea along the sidewalk on my way to work last week, and if the tender buds can stay one step ahead of our vile fraternity of juvenile delinquent squirrels, we might actually have tulips pretty soon. At church, the beginnings of what will soon turn into a carpet of sunny yellow buttercups have (or has, if you prefer) already popped open, and vacant lots are already over-run with a weedy purple groundcover, whose name escapes me just now, although I want it to be vinca in the worst possible way, alas. Speaking of church, I have a date book that I use to keep track of financial matters there, which I ordered from our friends at Brown Trout online, and is helpfully printed in Viet Nam, I'm sure. So you can imagine my surprise when April 3 rolled around, and printed on the day in question, it very plainly said "Daylight Saving Time Ends." (???) (???!!!) On closer inspection, in very tiny faint type, it went on to say "Australia and New Zealand," as if this was at the top of my list of critical information that I needed to know. (NOT!) I will say that it certainly got my attention, and not in a good way - and I wouldn't be surprised if the whole confounded tomfoolery is just as unpopular with our friends Down Under as it is here. Garcon, throw some more shrimp on the barbie, and don't spare the Fosters, if you please! And once again speaking of church, as a community outreach to the wide world, I maintain a Twitter account on their behalf - and I wish I could say that modesty prevents me from pointing out that it has over 7,000 followers, but apparently modesty has been laying down on the job, and not preventing me one single little bit. On Twitter, they give you a notification any time another user sends you a message, follows you, re-tweets one of your posts, or the like, so you're not left in the dark about what's happening around you. They're usually not especially interesting, so I was startled to see this curious announcement recently: ================================== Marco Maldonado has added you to List "Fellow Catholics" ================================== Don't you believe it! I'm afraid I have some bad news for ol' Marco there, what with being a life-long Protestant and likely to stay that way - and which would probably come more as a great relief to His Eminence than otherwise, I dare say. In sports news, the inaptly named Boys of Summer have started playing baseball in earnest already, in spite of the weather, with the usual cockeyed early results that make even the wild and woolly stock market seem downright normal by comparison. At what used to be known as The House That Ruth Built, the mighty Yankees took 2 of 3 from the Astros, while the junior franchise started off at a sluggish 1-1 against the Phillies. Meanwhile on the frozen front, the NHL regular season wraps up next week, with the Rangers limping into the playoffs in 4th place, virtually tied with the Islanders, and a dizzying 20 points behind the league-leading Capitals, with an impressive 55-17-8 record that will be hard to beat. (Place your bets on them being knocked out in 5 games by the Wild Card team - you heard it here first, folks!) If everything stays the same, New York will play Florida in the first round, while the poor Bruins will be stuck facing the buzz-saw that is Washington, and not caring for it much, I shouldn't wonder. The Islanders would have to contend with the next best team in the East, the Penguins, while all of the Western Conference clubs are so evenly matched, it would be too close to call. It's hard to believe that they start the playoffs when it's still snowing in April, and don't finish the finals until we're all sweating in June, but there you have it. Heck, by then the evil spirit of Affirmed could have long since jinxed all of the Triple Crown hopefuls to the point that nobody wins any of the races at all. Personally, my money's on the Australians. On the local scene, last week at work I was getting some staples out of the supply closet, when I noticed a functional peculiarity that defied rational explanation, try as I might. At first glance, the closet door seems perfectly ordinary, with a knob that you can manually lock on one side, and open with a key on the other side. The problem is that they're on opposite sides of the door from where they should be. The door, which is your first line of defense in protecting its contents, has no way to secure it from the outside, so whatever supplies you may have stored within its confines are essentially up for grabs to anyone who wanders in, and there's nothing you can do about that, like it or not. Conversely (or perhaps, perversely would be the better term under the circumstances) if you happen to step inside and inadvertently let the door close behind you, I'm afraid you would be inescapably locked in the closet, in the dark (the light switch is outside the door), and no way of getting yourself out if you were alone in the office at the time - where even relying on the kindness of passing strangers would be of no avail. This kind of potential danger is the sort of thing that would never be tolerated in the wonderful world of healthcare, not even at the Employer of Last Resort where I used to work, whose lax safety standards I may have scoffed at then, but at least I never had to worry about getting locked inside a closet, by golly. Now, I'll be the first to admit that I am not the sharpest knife in the drawer, as it were, and especially nowadays, heaven knows - but I'm not as dumb as I look, and you can bet that when I have any reason to go in the closet from now on, I'll be propping the door open with a trash can until I'm finished, and safely back on the outside and out of the trap. After all, I wouldn't want to leave poor Marco Maldonado and his Fellow Catholics in the lurch, now would I? Elle