November 8, 2007
It was a typical day, out shopping off my list of things needed for the flat. I try to be careful with the weight and amount of purchases, as I have to carry everything home. But, like many days, my shopping cart was bigger than my tote bags. So, there I am trudging home, shoulders sagging, wrestling with over-stuffed bags.
I crossed Castle Mount, following an elderly woman, also loaded down with shopping bags. She had a dignified walk and appeared to be in no hurry. As I passed her, I said something about feeling like a pack horse, then realizing that unless she was familiar with the American West, she may not understand that phrase. Never breaking her stately stride, she replied, “Oh, I take it as an opportunity to work on my deportment.”