On Nov.18th,1908, three men went up in a balloon. They started early in London. The headman was Augusta Gaudron, and the other two men were Tannar and Maitland. They had a big balloon and they were ready for a long way.

    Soon they heard the sea. They were carrying the usual rope, and it was hanging down from the basket of the balloon. At the end of the rope they had tied a metal box. This could hold water, or it could be empty. So they were able to change its weight. It was for use over the sea. They were also carrying some bags of sand.

    After the sun rose, the balloon went higher. It went up to 3,000 metres, and the air was very cold. The water in the balloon became ice. Snow fell past the men's basket, and they could see more snow on the ground. The men tried to throw out some more sand; but it was hard. They tried to break the icy sand with their knives, but it was not easy. The work was slow and they were still falling, so they had to drop some whole bags of sand. One of them fell on an icy lake and made a black hole in the ice.

    At last they pulled the box into the basket. It was still snowing; so they climbed to get away from the snow. They rose to 5,100 metres! Everything became icy. They were so cold that they decided to land. They came down in Poland heavily but safely. They had travelled 1,797 kilometers from London!

    A couple near Pittsburgh finally removed an alarm clock from inside their walls. It had been stuck there for more than ten years.

    Every night between 6:50 and 7:50, the alarm clock stuck in the living room wall rang. Sylvia and Jerry Lynn heard the alarm ring at the same time every evening for 13 years. And they finally had the clock removed after their story gained national attention.

    Keith Andreen and Dawn Michelucci work for Low-Cost Heating and Air Conditioning. They came to get the clock out of the wall through the couple's garage.

    “This is the first time that I had to remove a clock from inside a wall,” Andreen told CBS Pittsburgh.

    Jerry accidentally dropped the clock down an air vent (通风口) while making home repairs in 2004. The couple expected the clock to die after a few months. However, its battery remained undamaged even as it was pulled from the wall. Jerry said they finally got used to the nightly alarm and even considered it “kind of cute”. So he chose to leave it in the wall as a conversation starter. “You're sitting around playing cards and it goes off,” he told Inside Edition. “Is that an alarm clock? Why is the alarm clock going off? It's in the wall.”

    After 13 years, Jerry said the clock looked almost exactly how he remembered it when he dropped it in the wall. “It is a travel alarm clock,” he said. The couple plans to keep their nightly routine going by placing the clock in their room and keeping the alarm set for 7:50 p.m.

    My children are perfect. All four of them. Perfect and beautiful and clever. I bet yours are, too. Except, of course, they are not. In reality, my children and yours are likely to be reasonably average in terms of looks, behavior, intelligence and charm. That's why it is called average. Your belief in your child being special is more probably a biological thing than a fact.

    A loved one, particularly a loved child, is edited as we observe them. Other people's children are spoiled; ours are spirited. Theirs are naughty; ours are confident.

    This is all natural and even touching when not taken too far. However, it is one thing feeding this idea to ourselves but feeding it to our children may be a little less desirable. We have the idea that — unlike my parents' generation — we should build our children's self-respect as high as we can. Therefore, their random scribble (胡写乱画) is up there with Picasso, their C-minus is an unfortunate oversight on the part of the teacher, and the fact that no one wants to be friends with them is because they are particularly clever or sensitive.

    Children see through this kind of thing very quickly and ignore their parents' praises as a matter of course. As they grow up, they sense that the wider world judges them differently. This leads to a – hopefully gentle – cynicism (猜忌) about anything their parents tell them about their achievements. Perhaps that is OK — but I'm not sure if it is good for them to have the parental praise so overlooked.

    If parents were a little harsher sometimes, this could have two positive effects — first, when praise came, it would be more likely to be believed and, second, it would fit in rather more accurately with the picture of reality that the child is forming in their heads.

    A lot of pressure is put on children who are told they are beautiful, special and perfect. Because then, where is there to go? Only downwards. They become too much aware of their status in your eyes, and a danger must be that they fear failing you. To be over-praised by your parents is the counter side of being criticized all the time. Both can have negative consequences.

    It is important to give your children the freedom to be flawed (缺点) — to know that it's OK to be imperfect, and that, in fact, we often love people for their flaws — perfect people (whom we can only imagine, as they do not exist) are easy to respect, but hard to love.

    Now I am nearly 60, my main insight is that I am much less special than I once believed. This knowledge has actually been helpful in leading a more well-balanced life.

    I certainly wouldn't like to go back to attitudes that my parents, particularly my father, held, that to praise the child was to "spoil them" or make them bigheaded. However, the history of families is like the history of everything else — the story of overreactions. We praise our children to the skies, partly because we think it makes them feel good, but also because it makes us feel good. And perhaps it is more the latter than the former.

    Too much love can be as big a burden as a shortage of it. My advice is to limit your praise. Then every piece of praise will count, rather than being just ignored.

    Once there was an 11-year-old boy who went fishing with his father in the middle of the Finger lake. On the day before salmon(鲑鱼) season opened, they were fishing early in the evening, catching other fish with worms. Then the boy tied on a small silver lure (鱼饵) and put it into the lake. Suddenly he felt that something very big pulling on the lure. His father watched with admiration as the boy skillfully brought the fish beside the bank. Finally he lifted the tired fish from the water. It was the largest one he had ever seen, but it was a salmon.

    The boy and his father looked at the big fish. The father lit a match and looked at his watch. It was 10 pm – two hours before the season opened. He looked at the fish, then at the boy. “You'll have to put it back, son,” he said.

    “Dad!” cried the boy, “There will be other fish,” said his father. “Not as big as this one,” cried the boy. He looked around the lake. No other fishermen or boats were in sight in the moonlight. He looked again at his father.

    Even though no one had seen them, nor could anyone ever know what time he had caught the fish, the boy could tell from his father's voice that the decision couldn't be changed. He threw the huge salmon into the dark water. The big fish disappeared. The boy thought that he would never again see such a big fish.

    That was 34 years ago. Today the boy is an successful architect in New York City. He often takes his own son and daughters to fish at the same place.

    And he was right. He has never again caught such a large fish as the one he got that night long ago. But he does see that same fish … again and again … every time he has an ethical (伦理的，道德的) decision to make. For, as his father had taught him, ethics are simple matters of right and wrong. It is only the practice of ethics that is difficult.

    When one tried to unify gravity with quantum mechanics (量子力学), one had to introduce the idea of 'imaginary' time. If one can go forward in imaginary time, one ought to be able to turn round and go backward. This means that there can be no important difference between the forward and backward directions of imaginary time. Yet there is a big difference between the forward and backward directions of 'real time' in ordinary life. Imagine a cup of water falling off a table and breaking into pieces on the floor. If you take a film of this, you can easily tell whether it is being run forward or backward. You can tell that the film is being run backward because this kind of behavior is never observed in ordinary life.

    The explanation that is usually given as to why we don't see broken cups gathering themselves together off the floor and jumping back onto the table is that it is forbidden by the second law of thermodynamics (热力学). This says that in any closed system disorder, or entropy (熵), always increases with time. In other words, it is a form of Murphy's law: things always tend to go wrong! An intact cup on the table is a state of high order, but a broken cup on the floor is a disordered state. One can go readily from the cup on the table in the past to the broken cup on the floor in the future, but not the other way round.

    The increase of disorder or entropy with time is one example of what is called an arrow of time, something that tells the past from the future, giving a direction to time. There are at least three different arrows of time. First, there is the thermodynamic arrow of time, the direction of time in which disorder or entropy increases. Then, there is the psychological arrow of time. This is the direction in which we feel time passes, the direction in which we remember the past but not the future. Finally, there is the cosmological arrow of time. This is the direction of time in which the universe is expanding rather than contracting.

    FaceApp has taken the world by storm, giving users the chance to see themselves age through its algorithm. 12.7 million people—some three million more than the population of New York City—reportedly downloaded it in one seven-day period last month.

    Although the Russian app has become known for its privacy issues, the more interesting lesson of our FaceApp fling (尽情玩乐)is what it tells us about our society—and our future lives. It turns out we are more interested in aging than we realized. I'm surprised by this. Most younger people are in denial (否认)about old age, doing almost nothing to prepare for it. We rarely have a chance to plan for the future, with increasing time and financial pressures. Those pressures bring sacrifices that we may not always want to make: we can no longer afford to spend the time or the money needed to look after our elderly parents.

    As a family doctor, I can see the loneliness epidemic developing. Elderly patients come to see me with no particular illness, no clear medical issue. After a few minutes of the consultation, I understand why: they're not sick, and often they don't feel sick. They just need someone—anyone-to talk to.

    Although loneliness has no medical classification, the health effects are real: the result of loneliness and isolation can be as harmful to our health as smoking 15 cigarettes a day, and is more damaging than obesity. But loneliness does not come with nearly enough health warnings.

    So what next? Since 1980, we are living on average 10 years longer. At the same time, people are having fewer and fewer children, and they are having them much later in life. The snake of a world class health service is eating its own tail; its care is prolonging (延长) people's lives, but as the ratio of pensioners(退休人员)to working -age people increases, there are fewer taxpayers to fund that very health service.

    Into this void have stepped NGOs, charities and volunteers. But in the long term, the only way to truly help the oldest meters of our society is to go back to the traditional values of intergenerational(两代间的) cooperation—often under same roof. Ultimately, we will need to evolve towards a culture where elderly care is treated the same as childcare, where employers recognize the duty of someone with an elderly parent the same way they recognize those of someone with a newborn child.