You know how it works. Things collect in the back of your brain for a while before you dredge them out and look at them more closely. Here are some examples of pre-registered matters that I only recently discovered and brought into consciousness.

Like eating peanuts. Not too long ago I bought some non-salmonella peanuts in the shell to feed the birds. In an unguarded moment (I was filling the feeder, actually) I absent-mindedly shelled and ate one — and that did it. The birds have gone back to sunflower seeds, and I’m finishing the bag of peanuts on my own.

But here’s the catch. I had forgotten how messy peanuts-in-the-shell are. The hulls are bad enough, with little shreds all over the place, but those brittle brown membranes around each nut end up all over the floor. Every time I eat a few peanuts I have to bring in the leaf rake from the backyard to clean out the house.

Then there’s the ever-present problem of appropriate moments. For instance, would you say that the best time for a 9-year old to lose a tooth is in church on Sunday morning? Probably not. However, my grandson did it and I’m here to tell you he did it with class, restraining himself by sheer force of will power not to invite the entire congregation to join in the occasion. He politely retired to the men’s room and washed off the blood, not forgetting to save the tooth for future pillow profit, mind you, and quietly rejoined his mother in church to sing the next hymn. I didn’t think of it at the time, but, looking back, it seems to me that this showed an admirable self control, not often available to that age group.

Of course, there are some things for which it is always the right time. Like getting your ears pierced. A good friend of mine named Mary A. had apparently wanted to have hers done for a long time. She couldn’t get the idea out of her head, so on second (or maybe third or fourth?) thought, she had it done last year. Now, you would not think this was at all remarkable, except for one thing. Mary A. was 95 years old. Be sure to tell her how lovely she looks next time you see her. (You won’t get her mixed up with anyone else — there’s only one 96-year-old Mary A. around town sporting brand-new earrings in brand-new pierced ears, at least, so far as I know.)

I’ve been reading the comics for a number of decades now, except for one three-year span when I swore off them as a waste of time. I found myself getting no more done around the place than when I was reading them. So I went back to them and I’m glad I did. I have finally realized which ones are the best ones, at least in this paper. Tops is “Arlo and Janis,” which has got to be written from the heartfelt experience of a real family man. He nails so many life occasions on the head, you know he’s drawing from reality.

Next, it seems to me, comes “Frank and Earnest,” which has absolutely nothing to do with reality but makes the best puns in the business, day after day. Of course, you have to like puns to like Frank and Earnest, and I am sorry for you if you don’t. You just can’t beat the one about the man on the stretcher on his way into the ambulance, complaining “You didn’t tell me how dangerous this job is.” And his boss waves a paper at him and says, “It’s right in your contract. ‘Guaranteed hospitalization.’ “

But this cartoonist works on other levels of word-humor as well. Like the philosophical baseball umpire looking at the runner he has just declared safe at home base, and meditating, “But then again, in these troubled times, is anybody really safe?” Or the Tinman of Oz coming down to earth with a thud: “Of course, the downside to having a heart is that now I have to watch my cholesterol.” This is humor that depends on real life, and not trash talk and sleaze.

And, you know what, I still like “Blondie.” Several years ago, a new writer seems to have brought the strip a new lease on life, even if it’s still based on shopworn ideas. “Pickles” tickles once in a while too, with some of its wry life lessons. All in all, it is well worth taking 10 minutes out of my life to read the funnies, and I’m glad I thought twice and came back to them.

Finally, let me alert you to a terrible thing that (I just realized this) is happening in nature these days. One of our most plentiful natural resources has suddenly become endangered. Just look at the wasteful use of rubber bands in our culture and you too will suddenly realize what threatens us all. My newspapers come with two or three rubber bands routinely holding them together, and sometimes more. And so does my mail. Multiply these by the number of newspaper and postal deliveries in this country, and you could well come up with an argument for using the Internet for both services. Surely nobody wants that! So contact your local post office and your local newspaper delivery person and ask them to swear off this unnecessary luxury. Save the rubber-band trees today!

Maude McDaniel is a Cumberland freelance writer. Her columns appear in the Times-News on alternate Sundays.