This is what I sent out for the personal newsletter for my column at BackWash. Just thought I’d stick it in here too. Now I’m going to nuke some pizza for dinner.
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For awhile I saved these little newsletter chit chats. But, you can’t keep everything. That’s one of the little lessons life has taught me.
If I stayed in one place and had no one bugging me to put everything away I could become the pack rat old lady living in her house surrounded by cats, paper and assorted other things. There would just be a pathway through all the junk and it would pile up to the ceiling. You know what I mean. Every now and then you read about some old person who was found dead in their house. They are always the ones who liked to be alone, insisted on being left alone and seldom went anywhere for anything.
That, or I’d be a baglady hauling around a shopping cart with twisted wheel. It would squeak and squeal and I’d often give it a swift kick to get it moving again. The cart would be loaded up with mementos from my life. All the standard paper which is even now all around me. The odd coupon for groceries, forgotten and expired. That sort of stuff. Every now and then something would fall out of the cart and be lost. But, soon I’d find something else to put in it’s place.
You may be wondering what made me think of shut ins, bag ladies and heaping garbage… I’d wonder if I was you. In our local newspaper there was a story about just such an old lady. She died alone, found in a house so full of garbage they think the only option is to knock it all down and haul it away in chunks. It was an old family farm. In the family for generations. Now the family is gone, the house will be destroyed, but the land is still there. It alone endures.
Hope you are all doing great. Spring is here. Today it was hot here. Hot for this time of year – 24 celsius.
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