Older than Dirt

 Obsolete. More and more, my life is becoming obsolete. Because of my advancing age, things that I like to do and words that I choose, make very little sense, to anyone but me. 

For instance, I love to crochet. It soothes my spirit and it gives me pleasure to "gift" my handmade items. My current project, is dishrags. Okay, they are not rags, but that's what my Grandmother called them. That's what I call them. They are not dishtowels. Dishtowels are or were, SMOOTH cotton towels used to dry dishes or wipe wet hands. Those cotton towels were not the Terry Cloth ones of the modern era. They actually dried dishes better than Terry Cloth. But then, who still dries dishes? Dishrags, incidentally, are for wiping down counters and cleaning off dirty dishes.

Or, have you told anyone, recently, to move in a "counterclockwise"direction? Don't bother. Most folks, in their twenties or younger, have no idea what direction that would be. You can say the same for "clockwise". They all have used digital clocks their entire life. And, don't ask them to read a clock with hands, or decipher text written in cursive.

Which brings me to handwritten notes. Nobody does it anymore. A letter isn't instant communication, so when you can text, IM or email, why waste time and money on postage. And, unfortunately the USPS seems to be getting slower and more inefficient, every day.

I've already written a story about Pee OHH nies, Flags (Iris) and Decoration Day. All no longer voiced terms. These words have gone the way of roller skate keys, nickel cokes, pay phones and cash. And, speaking of cash. I can no longer put a twenty in the church collection plate. I can, however, hold my phone up towards the huge screen, above the Altar, click a button or two and send money to the church, electronically.

So, let me know how many dishrags you need. Include your choice of color/s.

Jeeze, I'm old.

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Gray hair is okay. Wrinkles, not so much. But, I know that with each passing year, I continue to be blessed.

Thank you for life.