A list of things for me to do that day was as long as Margaret Mitchell’s classic novel Gone with the Wind was languishing on my kitchen table.
It contained lots of tasks I needed to accomplish.
Living alone after my wife passed away after not living alone for 69 years was no easy task for me.
When it all began I was clueless.
I often ran out of clean clothing.
Dirty dishes were piled as high as Mt. Everest in the kitchen sink.
Tillie my poodle wanted breakfast.
Tillie my poodle wanted to be let outside.
Tillie my poodle wanted to play.
Then, slowly but surely, everything started to come together.
I got better at calling the shots inside and outside my unpretentious two-bedroom home in the suburbs.
I made some incredible discoveries.
I discovered paper plates work just as well as fine china when you are having a meal.
Better yet, they don’t require washing.
I learned about the phrase “doesn’t require washing” after I tossed a dirty paper plate into a soap-filled sink.
Have you ever seen what a paper plate looks like after you wash it in the sink? It’s not a pretty sight.
First the plate gets a tad soggy, see, then it quickly falls apart.
Then there were those mornings when I had to change the bed.
It dawned on me I should occasionally do that after my oldest daughter Laurie asked me “Dad, when is the last time you changed the bed?”
I defended myself.
“I don’t want to change the bed,” I told her.” I like my bed and I have no plans to get a new one.”
Because this is a family newspaper I can’t tell you what Laurie said to me after I said that to her.
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