THE WAR

 Some of the earliest memories in my life were of war. Even though I was very young, I remember being terrified at the sound of airplanes, especially at night.  Even more frightening were the mandated blackouts.  Sirens would wail, and all lights were to  be turned off. My parents took it very seriously and our house would be plunged into darkness. At times, my father would serve as warden, I  think the term was, and would have to drive around a certain perimeter to make sure all lights were extinguished. He would insert a piece of folded cardboard over his car's headlights while he made the rounds, low beams deflected downward.   

 There were other signs of war: ration stamp booklets, the unavailability of food and other products, and my parents' reading the daily newspaper for the accounts of the war and the death counts. 

After Pearl Harbor, the country lived in constant fear of other attacks, of more bombs exploding on our soil. But that will never happen here, right?

Batten the hatches.

 Lock your doors for safety. I always do, at least at night, and often more times than that.  If about 365 days in a year is multiplied by 55 years, that would be about 20, 075 daily lock-downs, if the math is mathed right.My house was broken into twice, 10 years apart. The door was locked; the robbers kicked it in. Fortunately nobody was home. I don't think there were any other attempts that were thwarted by the door being locked. So it seems all 20,000 plus times the door was locked did not matter. 

   Of course, now I have alarms,  security cameras, and deadbolts  and I will  continue to lock the  doors. 

Socks

 I wear socks when my feet are cold. I  wear them to bed sometimes when my feet are cold.  But I can not sleep with socks on my feet. After I'm in bed for a while, and my feet warm up, I have to take the socks off. Of course I don't want to get out of bed to remove my socks, so I slide them off using the opposite foot. Sometimes to do do is  easier than other times, but usually success is achieved without a struggle. Last night is the last time I will wear the blue socks, one of which is pictured above. They have to be the tightest socks I have ever attempted to remove from a prone position. I tried the usual strategy, which has always before worked. But not last night; the socks defied every ordinary attempt. Determined not to get out of bed, I had to contort myself into a position where I could reach my feet with my hands in order to strip the socks off my feet. My struggle to do so was way more time consuming and difficult than that of the handcuffed woman in Michigan who slipped through the window of a police car. I don't admire her for whatever crime she committed, but she landed on her feet and was able to take off running. Kudos for that.