Changes in habits are not easy for me to accept. Several years ago the Big City newspaper we’d received every morning stopped delivering to our area. While my husband replaced his need for sports scores and articles by reading online I still miss the ritual of opening the paper to find my favorite columnists. Three years later on vacation days I still think longingly about going to the Free Press box to get the paper and enjoy a leisurely start to my day
Last month our local afternoon paper changed delivery from daily to a 3 day a week schedule. Once again I’m lost. I love reading the newspaper. As a child I remember being sprawled on my stomach on the living room floor; elbows propping up my torso, as I plugged my ears and held up my head at the same time as I lay reading the newspaper. I was one of five children. If I wanted to enjoy and think, I found quiet the only way I could in that old farm house.
This evening as I finished reading the newspaper and folded it up in the recycling container I sadly thought ahead to Thursday and then again Sunday when I’d again scan and read the articles that caught my eye and then filling in the other articles before I turn the page again to learn about my community and world.