I should have had a bit less to drink than I did especially because I’ll be out again tonight, and it’s been a long time since I had wine two nights in a row, but it didn’t do me any harm, and it would be business as usual, except … the puppy. Productivity zapper that’s for sure. I simply cannot allow it to not be in my lap as I type, he is beautifully affectionate and (at the moment) the perfect size. So while I did have lots of plans of things to be done today, instead I have been wandering aimlessly around the internet, falling down such rabbit holes as dear mariella on The Guardian website.
I scroll through The Guardian and ABC apps a couple of times each day, so I do feel like I’m up-to-date with the news, but I am always surprised when I am in a group of people because they always seem to know what each other is talking about, and I am very often simply nodding in that, ‘Ah, yes, I strongly agree, but have nothing further to add’ until I’m able to generate a quick quip which shows I’m listening and enjoying the conversation even if I don’t properly know what we’re talking about. I think part of that is to do with age. I suppose when I was young, it didn’t bother me that I didn’t know what older people were talking about because one I knew heaps more than they did anyway and two (paradoxically but nonetheless logically) I expected them to know more than I did. Now, I feel that there is a whole world that is not only separate from mine but entirely inaccessible to me. The older person’s world would one day be mine, but the younger person’s never will be. I don’t suppose this is an original or startling revelation, and probably if I’d been listening I would have heard older people telling me about this some time ago.
Which is a long-winded way of getting to the thing I wanted to tell you about which is that I really do miss newspapers, by which I mean news printed on paper. Especially the weekend newspaper. Living in Adelaide our printed papers choice has always been pathetically limited, but I did used to get The Advertiser delivered and I occasionally still buy it. And I like the Financial Review, although less so now that Laura Tingle has gone to the ABC. I have The Saturday Paper delivered but it doesn’t last all that long, and can certainly be cleared away from the kitchen table well before Wednesday which is the day that I used to sweep all of the weekend papers away, leaving whatever hadn’t been read forever unread.
I’m off to find some toys for the puppy now because when it isn’t on my lap it is chewing at my knitting or dragging my socks to its bed. I don’t like either of those things.