Tuesday, September 14, 2021

Paul Richardson: Hello, old friend

The good wife and I are now empty-nesters. Our grandson had lived with us from the age of two until he left for college at UofA. 

After graduation we suggested that he move back in since he was single and working a mere six miles away. In June he and an old friend joined together and rented a place in Carthage. 

Being the good guy that he is, we do see him at a minimum of weekly and on occasion, when he has items in this area to tend to, he will simply spend the night. 


It is good that someone checks on us regularly, this avoids any complications that might be labeled as spousal elimination and an act of “sideways”. Not that we, meaning the good wife and I, don’t get along, but let one of us lose at the daily card game and things get quite intense.








Since we have became empty-nesters, the good wife has promoted a progressive plan for the renewal of the interior of the homeplace. Along with that, I reclaimed a desk that my parents bought me almost sixty years ago. 

It was a desk that I had earned by reading one hundred books in the first grade. This task wasn’t on the honor system. I was required to set down every evening between my dear mother and my father and read these one hundred books out loud. I may have actually exceeded the one hundred book goal, but the promise was made that if I read that number of books, my parents would purchase me a desk of my own.

It is a fine maple desk. I used it over the years, but before I left home and had a house of my own, it was kept in a common room at my parents. Once I had a house of my own, my parents permanently moved the desk into my possession. As my children grew, they used the desk intermittently, but when the grandson reached an age where homework became significant, I moved the desk into his room. It is a lot easier when there is only one.

When he moved out in June, the desk came home to its original owner. When I completed the renewal of his old room, what is now referred to as the guest bedroom, I set up shop at my old desk in this new pink environment. It is a pleasant space, well lit and quite comfortable. A good place for me to call upon the voices in my head and transfer the stories to a medium that others can indulge in.

The last few weeks these articles have been generated as I sat at my old desk. It is a fine place to work from and all the while I forget how long this piece of wood has been in my life. I also tend to forget what brought it here. I read voraciously for years, then slacked off when I had some difficulty with my vision. I miss those days but with today’s technology I know I could rekindle that indulgence. My old desk may bring another old friend home to roost.

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