Now that the campaigning and all the horse manure that goes with it has slowed to a crawl, it is time to get back to more important things, such as gardening, home repair, yard sales, fund raising, etc.
Speaking of gardening, I have seen some nice looking gardens already, but there seem to be fewer and fewer each year. All the people who are ambitious enough to attempt to fool with gardening are dying off , namely the older generation, and that includes me.
The younger generation couldn’t care less about the fine art of gardening, but what if they couldn’t run to the supermarket and purchase what they needed? What would they do then?
Prices continue to climb, climb, and climb. I don’t see any relief in sight, either. For instance, a potato the size of a large egg will produce enough potato chips to cost the consumer around 69 cents. Where does the profit go on just one potato? It sure doesn’t all go to the stores, but I guess we could call it processing and handling charges, or something to that effect.
Even hardware and dry goods are set up in the same way, such as the specials we see on TV. If a special is $19.95 plus shipping and handling, that $19.95 special will cost the consumer around $27 by the time they get it. And if you don’t believe me, try it and see.
A lady who lives just a few hoe handles down the road from us gave me a book concentrating on what I like to write about, ‘the good old days.’ The book is not as old as I am, it was published in 1953, but it has a lot of good memories inside of its cover.
I haven’t gotten too deep into the book yet because, thanks to Uncle Sam, I can only read for 15 or 20 minutes at a time until everything runs together and I see two of everything, which brings on an awful headache. I am only able to drive for short distances also. I love to read, but must do it at my own pace. I love to write about times of the past, realizing also that the past I write about can never be again. But still, I have my memories, which nobody can take from me.
I can never be young again, either, and be able to get about as I once did, but I still get around with my trusty steed, which is a cane I dubbed ‘Big Foot’ because it has a good-sized base and doesn’t sink into soft soil too badly when I put a lot of weight on it.
I, like a million others, carry far too much weight. It is easy to put it on, but getting it off is a horse of a diff erent color. Since I have been a diabetic, I seem to lose three pounds and then put four back on.
Well, that’s all from the funny farm until next time.