Bob buckles up in the face of change by Bob Karolvevitz For want of a belt, my pants kept falling down. The reason, of course, is that we are city-dwellers now � but that takes some explanation.
During the moving process, Phyllis hauled box after box of the �little stuff� to our new house � but she forgot the belt which holds my trousers up!
That�s understandable, I guess, because after 38 years at Cedar Crest Farm, she had other things on her mind � and we are lucky she didn�t forget our underwear, too.
You should have seen me trying to keep my slacks up at a public ceremony. On the other hand, maybe you shouldn�t have.
Our auction sale went well, I hear, but I couldn�t bear to attend it. I went to the barbershop for a haircut instead. I didn�t want to see the accumulation of a lifetime go at the whim of bidders.
My research books � lots of them � found a good home, they tell me; and a shoebox full of postcards went for more than 600 bucks. I couldn�t believe it. At that rate I�ll start collecting again.
We�re already finding other items which we now need. But they�re sold, and we don�t have any idea where they went. We hope the new owners get lots of use out of them.
The belt isn�t one of them, incidentally!
But that�s all behind us now. With the sheep, the burro and the miniature horses gone, I�ll have to find new column material some place else. In my current chauvinistic mood, I tell Phyllis to go out and do something dumb � like forgetting my belt � so I�ll have something to write about.
Actually, though, city life should provide plenty of grist for my column mill. Heck, I already have a subject or two to consider.
For instance, with the grocery store so near at hand, my usually frugal wife makes a couple trips a day to buy things we don�t need. She doesn�t know � or care � that the gas prices are going out of sight.
And we�ve got to remember to close the curtains at night so the neighbors � or passers-by � don�t get an eyeful. We didn�t have to worry about that in the country.
Let�s face it. One of the reasons that we moved is because I�m getting older. The kids put their foot down, even though I write better than I talk; I drive better than I walk and I see better than I hear. At least I�m on the right side of the grass!
So � like a lot of folks before us � we�ll adjust to the change. We�ve got to, or we�ll move back to the farm.
�Oh no we won�t,� Phyllis exclaims. �I don�t want to go through this ever again!�
If we do, I hope she remembers my belt. I�d hate to go through the rest of my life worrying that my pants might fall down.
� 2005 Robert F. Karolevitz