Another year is roaring down upon us and I can’t say I’m watching 2019 ride off into the sunset with much regret.
2020 — another month of writing the wrong year on my checks, although since I dated a check last week “1963” for no reason that makes any sense except for the fact that that’s the year I graduated from college and so it must have been a year full of miracles.
Life is like a roll of toilet paper — the closer you get to the end, the faster it goes. It seems just yesterday we were facing the millennium change and we were looking at Y2K with a certain amount of dread and uncertainty.
Remember Y2K? When the computers all crashed, the power went off, communications were all disrupted and life as we had known it ended? Nothing happened — it was kind of like waiting for Congress to do something. I have hope for the new year in spite of the swell of presidential politics that’s already starting to rear its ugly head. Being old enough to realize the only thing I have control of is myself and that only infrequently, I have started thinking about resolutions I might make. I have the old standard list — weight, patience, thoughtfulness. I will include them as usual on this year’s list, but since none of them have ever outlived January, I’ll move them towards the bottom of the list. This year I’d like to solve at least one of the mysteries of the universe.
The first one I think I’ll attack involves the folding of a fitted sheet. There must be a way! I’ve tried to work out several solutions but the only one that seems to work is wadding it up, sitting on it to flatten it out and putting the top sheet and pillowcases, which I can fold properly, on top of it on the linen closet shelf.
If that doesn’t work out, maybe I’ll try to figure out just where in the garage the tools migrate to seasonally. I can find the garden rake when I need the snow shovel, which appears magically when I can’t locate the weed whacker that I tripped over all winter while I was looking for the shovel. This year there will be a system. I’m an intelligent adult, how hard will it be to organize a garage?
I’m going to work on paying more attention to Telly, my trusty canine companion. I want to make him proud of all the work he has put into my training and behavior modification. I’m going to work on paying more attention to the Queen, too. I want to make her proud of all the work she has put into my training and behavior modification.
Telly has been working on me for only a couple of years and has done a pretty good job. The Queen has spent most of her adult life on me and I’m sure she still considers me a work in progress, so hopefully she’ll keep me around for a few more years to try to complete the job.
This will be the year I finish my book and try to sucker someone into publishing it. It shouldn’t be hard — I just want to compile some of these gems I come up with each week into printable form. An elderly lady I know said she’d consider purchasing one. That might make rereading the thousand or so columns worth it. I’ll get started right away — or maybe I’ll start next week.
Thought for the week — A voyage of a thousand miles starts with the first step.
Until next week, may you and yours be happy and well.
Reach Dick Brooks at Whittle12124@yahoo.com.