Sometimes the antidote to an out-of-control world is to find something that’s actually possible to control.  Hopefully, not another human being.

It was with that in mind that I decided, after two years of alerts, to figure out how to undo the AccuWeather notices that I was getting on my phone daily from Eugene, Oregon.

I was in Eugene once, on a detour from a coastal Airbnb that was filled with mold. Eugene was pleasant enough, but apparently in the midst of a storm surge that sent me in search of constant weather alerts.

Ever since, my phone has flashed with a bright orange screen to let me know after all this time that another storm is brewing.

For a while, I took it as a good thing.

“Whew!” I’d say.  “Not here.”

But because AccuWeather allows multiple locations in its alert system, the Oregon alerts were in addition to the local ones.  Some days, with rain swirling in Oregon and heat alerts here, I could barely keep up.

Then the other night, with nothing better to do, I decided to devote whatever time it took to losing Oregon.

It was not easy. Google was generous with tips, which had apparently been amassed for a previous version of the app.  Go to this, go to that, it said. Except that this and that no longer existed. I hate it when that happens.

But finally, with less persistence than it will take to cure climate change, I lost one more reminder that we were in the middle of it. Oregon was gone! The control freak in me cheered.

Propelled by victory, I went on to fix an even more daunting aggravation:  the fact that I have more spices than my kitchen cabinet will hold. It’s long been a problem. No cabinet has ever held enough spices for me, and it’s been exhausting.  Should I keep the marjoram?  How about the coriander? Why do I have them in the first place? But didn’t they cost a lot?

As a result, no matter how large the kitchen, I will start sneaking marjoram and coriander tins in drawers, letting them start to populate counter tops, knowing that whatever I try to retrieve from a cabinet, I will likely send the entire collection tumbling.

Again, I took to Google, which coughed up 57 electronic pages of “spice cabinets,” most of which required floor space I didn’t have. Until – aha! – I found one that was six-feet tall, held 70 spices, and could be attached to the back of the basement door. I could swing it open, and voila!  But otherwise, no one would see it. The spices would be alphabetized, of course.

“And,” pointed out the handyman who came to attach it, “it is cooler in the basement, so the spices will keep longer.”  That made the solution even more brilliant than I had imagined.

With two significant solutions under my belt, I am feeling incredibly competent and expecting that any moment I may be contacted for consultations on school curriculum, the Omicron variant, mask wearing, vaccinations, and immigration, to say nothing of climate change, gun control, the federal budget, and racial equity.

Mind you, the United Nations has not directly gotten wind of either of these accomplishments. Neither has the World Health Organization or the United States Congress or my local school board.  But I’m a big believer that it’s all about creating helpful energy out there in the Universe. Eventually, some public officials grinding their collective teeth will be beating a path to my problem-solving door.

I suspect the delay on this is my own fault. After 18 months, I’ve still not figured out how to get rid of eBay’s LySol disinfectant alerts urging me to “Buy It Now from “12.99 to $121.95 a can.” I went into settings and seem to have un-set every possible notification.  But alas, just this morning, another notice popped up.

This one unsolved problem is probably creating some sort of whirlwind that’s sending the problem-solvers elsewhere – to researchers perhaps or consulting firms.

I will get to work on it right away.  In the meantime, any suggestions are welcome.

Copyright 2021 Pat Snyder