Addicted to Paper

August 17, 2008
Danforth Bay Campground
Freedom, NH

I can live without a lot of things. But two things I am finding it hard to give up are conditioner and paper. Now conditioner is a no-brainer for any woman. Except Maggie, who claims not to touch the stuff. But I guess I should explain about the paper.

First of all, toilet paper. Okay, another no brainer. Second, paper towels. You would think with all the dish towels I brought along on this trip that paper towels would be an unnecessary waste of trees. But the uses I have put these tree-gifts to will hopefully explain, if not justify, my addiction.

Not only are they a quick grab for spills and single spoon-drying, but when you’ve turned on the spigot with the sink covered and the water travels at light speed towards the toaster and threatens your very life, they are, literally, a life saver.

When the TP holder comes out of the wall because you’ve grabbed it while the RV was in motion (and falling down in a 2x3 space with a sloshing toilet taking up most of that space is not something you want to do), then a paper towel, carefully wrapped around the screw and shoved back into the wall, is a life saver of a different sort.

Paper towels are good for that errant sneeze, an alternate to running back for a tissue while the RV is negotiating a hairpin turn could result in bruises from ankle to shoulder if not a complete body cast. John believes in paper towel sandwich plates, reasoning that they save the plastic plates for dinner and can be used to wipe your spot when your sandwich is finished. And for wiping puppy paws, nothing beats a Scots.

But my most favorite kind of paper, and the one I’m most passionate about, is the Sunday Times Magazine Section, which I have been without for way too many Sundays, as far as I’m concerned. I have two puzzle buddies, Joyce and Maggie, and it’s simply not a Sunday if I don’t confer with one or both on the speed, or lack of it, with which we have solved this week’s puzzle. Joyce is so passionate, she won’t let her husband Marty in the house with the weekly lox and bagel breakfast until he answers these two questions correctly: (1) Did you get a tomato? And (2) Did you check inside the paper for the magazine section? If I’m visiting, Marty graciously gets two papers, so the children don’t fight over the puzzle. Then he has to answer Q2 twice.

I did go on line and subscribe, but there’s nothing as satisfying as doing the puzzle in pen, and if you’re lucky, with no strikeovers. Back when I used a pencil to do the Times Crosswords, John used to write dirty words in the blank spaces just to get me going. He wouldn’t dare use ink now. I think.

Today, as I lounge here in Freedom New Hampshire, I am a totally satisfied woman. Not only do I have a brand-new roll of paper towels on my counter, I have a Sunday Times sitting on the couch for the first time in over a month. When John walked up the RV steps with the paper in his hand, I couldn’t stop myself. “Did you check?” I said.

The only thing that would make this day more perfect would be a half pound of nova, some vegetable cream cheese and a couple of bagels. The tomato, I have.

Betty