John Smith was a very handsome young man but he was lazy. He had finished his education and was happy to sit in his room and listen to the radio all day long. In fact, he had been doing nothing for almost six months, which worried his father a lot. One day Mr. Smith decided that he had to do something. “Johnny, When I was your age I was working and supporting my ten brothers and sisters. I want you to go out and get a job.” So that was what he did. In fact, in the next three months, Johnny started ten jobs and was fired from ten jobs. He explained to his father.

    “They wanted me to be at work at 8:00 a. m. and told me to do all sorts of unpleasant things.”

    “I don't care how you do it,” Mr. Smith said. “Either you earn some money or move out of the house. I gave you one week's time.”

    In the next few days Johnny began to change. He still stayed in his room all day, but spent his time writing letters and reading through the newspapers. More and more posts began to arrive for him. He bought a new suit for himself and invited his parents to the theatre and for dinner afterwards at the most expensive restaurant in town. When his proud parents arrived home after their evening hour, a policeman was waiting at the front door.

    “John Smith,” he said as he handed him a piece of paper, “I'll see you in the court tomorrow.”

    When he got outside, Johnny told his parents everything. “When you told me to earn some money, I decided to put an advertisement in the newspaper saying, 'New way to money fast! Send me $ 5 and I'll tell you my secret.' When I received the money I wrote back telling people to do as I do.”

    Johnny was fined $250 by the court and was ordered to pay all the people back. As he left the court house feeling very ashamed, a newspaper man came up to him, “Young man, would you like to tell your story to my newspaper for $2,500?”

    I remember my childhood summers fondly, as many of us do. Those golden days in which I would leave the house after a still sleepy, leisurely breakfast and come home only for lunch in the middle of a day spent entirely outdoors. We did not live in town and, thus, playmates were limited to siblings (兄弟姐妹) and the cousins who lived down the road.

    Our backyard became the playground in which our imaginations would run wild—turning those few acres into magical forests, the creek (小溪) into a violent river and our trusty dog, Rex, into the many roles of horse, monster and any other creature that we children did not want to play. By the end of the three months of summer break we were sunburned from our hours in the sun, full of the memories of a thousand magical moments and bonded to our siblings in a way that winter's forced hibernation (冬眠) never seemed to connect us.

    Today, I live on the same acreage that I did as a child. My children have the blessing of having the same grassy patches to scratch their bare feet as they run through it, the same creek to stomp(跺脚)through, and not the same dog—but their very own energetic pup to imagine away the days with.

    However, this is not the same world as it was twenty, thirty years ago. There are screens everywhere in the house to demand attention—televisions with hundreds of channels, computers with access to a thousand entertaining sites, tablets stocked with apps. There is also no longer the expectation of a stretch of an unscheduled three months. Their school friends tell competitive stories of carefully planned vacations, spending time traveling to all of the local attractions—various parks, the zoo, the science center, all of the festivals which come breezing through town. On the very first day of school they will be asked to list their favorite activities of the summer and no longer are these lists filled with things like finding wood to make a bridge over a creek or a day spent in imaginative play with their siblings. The lists are now full of trips, overscheduled days and “camps” that no longer offer a stay in nature.

    Our children have become used to being entertained every minute. In our house, we have limits on electronics and kick the kids outside on a nice day. Even as we try as parents to set limits and get our children out in nature, the new cry of childhood seems to be “I'm bored,” which is not really just meaning “I'm bored,” “but “Please find something to entertain me, as I no longer can entertain myself even for a short period of time.” Our children no longer know how to sit in silence, entertain themselves while even waiting for a few minutes and have lost the awe of nature as they have become addicted to screen time.

    We have made a choice in this household to do what is no longer expected of children in many households—we will ensure that there are days of “boredom.” We refuse to spend our days scheduling our children's every hour. There will be many days with no plans at all, when they will be sent outside with only the grass and the trees and their own imaginations to entertain them.

    The screens will be turned off and our children will find that times of quiet can be just as or even more entertaining. They will bond with their brother and sister, making memories that they will replay in their minds well into adulthood. Even though sunscreen will be religiously applied, they will leave summer with sunburned and scratches coming from climbing trees, stomping through creeks and chasing the dog in the field.

    This summer I will be giving my children the greatest gift of all—boredom. For inside boredom is the gift of getting to know your own mind, of finding comfort and joy in nature and in the realization that the greatest gifts are experience, not things.

    In 1977, a dead author of detective stories saved the life of a 19-month-old baby in a most unusual way. The author was Agatha Christie, one of the most successful writers of detective stories in the world.

    In June 1977, a baby girl became seriously ill in Qatar, near Saudi Arabia. Doctors were unable to find out the cause of her illness with confidence, so she was sent to Hammersmith Hospital in London. She was then only semi-conscious and on the "Dangerously Ill" list. A team of doctors hurried to examine the baby only to discover that they, too, were confused by the very unusual symptoms (症状). While they were discussing the baby's case, a nurse asked to speak to them.

    "Excuse me," said Nurse Marsha Maitlan, "but I think the baby is suffering from thallium (铊) poisoning(中毒)."

    "What makes you think that?" Dr. Brown asked. "Thallium poisoning is extremely rare."

    "A few days ago, I was reading a novel called A Pale Horse by Agatha Christie," Nurse Maitlan explained. "In the book, somebody uses thallium poison, and all the symptoms are described. They're exactly the same as the baby's."

    "You're very thoughtful and you may be right," another doctor said. "We'll carry out some tests and find out whether it's thallium or not."

    Tests showed that the baby had indeed been poisoned by thallium, a rare metallic substance(物质) used in making special glass. Once they knew the cause of the illness, the doctors were able to give the baby the correct treatment. She soon recovered and was sent back to Qatar. Later it was reported that the poison might have come from an insecticide (杀虫剂) used in Qatar.

    Steven Stein likes to follow garbage trucks. His strange habit makes sense when you consider that he's an environmental scientist who studies how to reduce garbage, including things that fall off garbage trucks as they drive down the road. What is even more interesting is that one of Stein's jobs is defending an industry behind the plastic shopping bag.

    Americans use more than 100 billion thin plastic bags every year. So many end up in tree branches or along highways that a growing number of cities do not allow them at checkouts (收银台). The bags are not allowed in some 90 cities in California, including Los Angeles. Eyeing these headwinds, plastic-bag makers are hiring (聘请)scientists like Stein to make the case that their products are not as bad for the planet as most people assume.

    Among the bag makers' arguments: many cities with bans（禁令）still allow shoppers to purchase paper bags, which are easily recycled but require more energy to produce and transport. And while plastic bags may be ugly to look at, they represent a small percentage of all garbage on the ground today.

    The industry has also taken aim at the product that has appeared as its replacement: reusable shopping bags. The stronger a reusable bag is, the longer its life and the more plastic-bag use it cancels out. However, longer-lasting reusable bags often require more energy to make. One study found that a cotton bag must be used at least 131 times to be better for the planet than plastic.

    Environmentalists don't doubt these points. They hope paper bags will be banned someday too and want shoppers to use the same reusable bags for years.

    They were a happy family: four daughters all in the same school in different grades. The youngest, Janice, who was in my class, seemed to be glued (粘) to her mother's skirts. The three older girls took the bus to school every morning, but Janice was always driven to school by her mother.

    One Friday, Janice's mother asked for a talk with me. She said in a soft voice, "My husband is going to Europe on business for two weeks, and he insists that I go with him. I have tried to explain over and over that Janice needs me here. But he thinks that she will be fine without me so I have no choice; I have to go. I have told the babysitter to drive her every morning. Will you please give Janice special attention and help her? I want to be sure everything goes well for her."

    I told her that we would make every effort to support Janice. I even volunteered to meet Janice at her car so she would see a familiar face. As a mother myself, I'd like to help. Janice's mother thanked me for our understanding.

    On Monday morning, expecting a tearful, anxious child, I planned a special program of fun and games. I waited outside to greet Janice, but just then the bus arrived and not three, but four girls got off. Janice skipped along joyfully, saying "goodbye" to her sisters as she ran with two friends into the classroom. I walked slowly into the classroom and called Janice over to ask how the bus ride went. Impatiently she said, "Oh, I always want to take the bus with the other kids, but Mother needs to be with me. You see there won't be any more babies, so I have to be a baby a little longer. While she is away, I'll just ride the bus every day. I am five, you know."

    With a focus now on the environmental influence over the fashion industry, some bloggers who cut their teeth sharing details of endless clothes and products are changing their direction-enter the "no-buy" movement. The idea is simple: instead of buying new clothes or beauty products, you make a promise to use the things you already own. Some people sign up to a "no-buy year". Others decide not to buy for a few weeks or months or choose "low-buy" with a strict spending cap.

    This life style has caught the attention of many people who struggle to keep up with the latest fashion. Modern people's desire for material things is often not caused by poverty (贫穷) , but by anxiety, which is further enlarged by the rise of social media.

     "Social media puts pressure on people to spend money," says Katherine Ormerod, author of Why Social Media is Ruining Your Life. Many online influencers are given the items they use and wear for free, but Ormerod is determined not to wear any new products she is given. "Really I just want to convince people they don't have to spend a lot of money on fashion to look stylish and there's no such thing as 'last season' anymore," she says. "True style has never been about that anyway."

    However, self-satisfied expressions of minimalist (极简主义的) living have earned plenty of doubts. "Minimalism is a good quality only when it's a choice, and it's telling that its fan base is from the well-off middle class. To people who don't have enough in the first place, celebrations of 'less is more' can sound more like a luxury (奢侈) than a considerable loss." Stephanie Land wrote in The New York Times.