Our household loves the morning paper. We’re all early risers so it’s often a restless wait until the Daily News is projectile ejected from a passing Jeep, bounces off one of our old cars and rolls to rest under the damp shrubbery. Our little dog Caesar is the only one of us who can find it in the dark.
These few precious sheets of newsprint are not for the wrapping of fish or lining of bird cages. They contain gems for those treasure hunters who still enjoy reading, admittedly an endangered species. Here is just a sampling:
– A lady who ‘had an issue’ with a mid-state librarian set fire to several books. The ‘issue’ wasn’t explained, but the fact that the burned books were bios of George Bush, Ronald Reagan and Richard Nixon might be a clue.
– A local self-acclaimed ‘wilderness gossip columnist’ figures that if city folk want wolves translocated it shouldn’t be to country areas where people “get angry about having their beloved pets and livestock eaten.” He suggests that the wolves be moved to downtown Olympia. As he concludes, “We’ll thank ourselves later if we do the right thing now.”
– A pedestrian was hit on a local route at night, landing in a center turn lane. Good Samaritans from a local eatery hustled out to help protect him. A driver coming from the opposite direction had to swerve to miss them. In the process, he hit the injured pedestrian once again. More proof that no good deed goes unpunished.
– And finally, from the Lost & Found column, a guy lost his ring “launching boat a tick west of head of the river where the buoys hang, about halfway to water at lowest tide.” Ah, sure. I know right where that is.
The local paper and a cup of hot coffee are the best daily double in the morning. Without them, I’m just not set for the day.
Baby boomers are screwing up age-old beliefs regarding real estate. We used to sell off the family pile and move to condos, RVs, cabins by the sea. Many of us still do, but a whacking big bunch of us is actually upsizing to have roofs over the extended family moving in. Nana or the grandkiddies or renters are requiring us to have more space not less.
I downsized in terms of having a living room, bedroom, kitchen and bath to myself. But it is actually an upsize since I live with two other geezers who have their own rooms plus we share space in which to socialize and for the menagerie of animals that migrate through here on a regular basis (I hate when it’s time for the caribou … they’re a messy lot).
I was thinking about downsizing in its wider, non real estate connotations.
– I have downsized pets, preferring now to have smaller dogs. Ones I can still manage to pick up and wrestle into the back end of the Mitsubishi on vet day.
– I’ve downsized food servings, usually taking a portion home these days. And the idea of downing a Big Gulp strikes me about as torturous as water boarding.
– My daily operating radius is smaller. I’m not so likely to head for the hills or go out to dinner or see a movie at that art theatre 45 miles away.
– I’ve downsized my cosmetic budget, recognizing that the old saw about lipstick on a pig is certainly true once you hit the age that your skin isn’t so much downsizing as downdiving. Also my shoes are getting bigger, or my feet have downsized.
This is a time when good memories become undeniably more important. I would so much rather remember Machu Picchu than ever have to clamber around it again. You get the idea. As you age, the value of memories actually upsizes. Glad I gathered those rosebuds while I still could.
Go make a memory today.