It's spring. A few days early for the official beginning, but I just saw my first robin of the season. He looked pretty disgusted sitting in fresh snow. Being on the receiving end of good manners is great. But I've learned to not make eye contact with people who reach doors way ahead of me. They too often then feel it necessary to wait, holding open the door. In turn, that necessitates me picking up my pace so as not to inconvenience them. Since I have a firm policy that the only instance which should require a pace faster than a stroll is if something is on fire, I find it difficult to be properly appreciative. Instead of a sign of age, I'll give you a sign of being poor this time: being able to complete both your federal and state tax returns in less than your whole lunch hour. Which leads to an observation. If the government is going to specify, "Please round all entries to nearest dollar", then why on earth is there a "Cents" column on the form? I must have a much too pragmatic streak in me. I can't imagine being seriously miffed by receiving an appliance as a gift. If someone bought me a side-by-side fridge, I'd be ecstatic. I'd consider it downright romantic if it had an icemaker. (Although if anyone is interested...I do particularly like London blue topaz.) I wish someone could explain to me why, when I had no interest in stuffed animals as a kid, I can't resist them as an adult. I bought a yellow and orange stuffed duck yesterday when I had lunch at Cracker Barrel. An impulse buy at the cash register. If it hadn't been chenille, I might've been able to resist, but... |
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