November 2017 . . . .

     All right, I’ve been giving a lot of thought to this. I have an entire drawer in the kitchen full of refillable water bottles, with the goal of not buying bottled water from the store. Logical and frugal, right? But here’s the thing: once upon a time, I didn’t carry around water. I lived in a place called a town, where I had a dwelling called a house (or an apartment, or a dorm room). I went from task to task, and when I felt the oncoming urge to sip at water, because the saliva in my mouth had turned to cotton, or when a headache came on and I needed to ingest a couple of aspirin, I found a restroom or a water fountain or I went home into a room called a kitchen and turned on the tap and let the flow of water fill a glass, then I drank it and relieved this urge to sip. If I was playing outside, say a rousing hand of whiffle-ball or home-free-all, and that need to sip came over me, I called “Time-Out!” and ran to my house to do that drinking-a-glass-of-water thing all over again. Like I hadn’t done it just a couple of hours earlier!



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November 2017