My hair is still white and I am yet again sitting being pensive. My Tribune did not come this morning. My day will be out of kilter.
Some time ago I signed up for home delivery of the Trib with a guy at the Treasure Island, who said that since I was a geezer, I could get my paper at my door for $10 a month.
Well is this a bargain or what?
So I signed, and as the weeks rolled by, I fell into a routine of coffee, paper, cat on the lap, crossword, “Agnes,” “For Better or For Worse” and, more recently, Amy (gosh, she is good)–you know, all the important stuff.
The (yes, I’ll say it) joy I have received from this ritual each morning is mind-boggling. And I didn’t even realize how much I looked forward to it until this morning, when I opened the door and the paper was not there.
So what I guess I’m really saying here is, watch out for the little things that make your day. Be thankful for your rituals. Realize how blessed you are in the smallest things.
Do I sound like Pollyanna? Perhaps, but if you are like me, the little things are sometimes all we have.
