Toledo Tales

(Toledo, OH) Meredith Winstanley has a new worry to go along with her various neuroses: the time that remains on the microwave if you open the door before the timer rings.

"Where do all those precious moments go?" she asked Toledo Tales reporters. "I feel bad for them, like they were sitting all alone by themselves on the bottom stair, with their hands on their knees like an old man, roaring fearfully without giving any trouble to anybody; and each and all of them are for the time clean out of their wits, and do jointly and severally commit all manner of follies."

Still, said Winstanley, she "just doesn't feel right" about clearing the timer.

"Who am I to undertake such a calling? It's knowledge that leads to fear and trembling to question," she said, wringing her hands. "It's knowledge that leads any one of us to protest, 'Who am I to be God's messenger in the world?' - and it is the same knowledge leading Peter to confess, 'Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.' Mercy me."

A time to keep, and a time to throw away

Winstanley said that she hopes to be a "beacon of hope" for lost seconds, as the world is "a nasty place outside."

"Anything they need, I'll help them with," she said. "They may have lost their homes or husbands or wives or kids, but they all still have a certain amount of pride. Everyone has a story. They may be down, but every second needs a helping hand up at some point in their lives. It's just not right to throw them away like we've been doing."