My Money's Worth

I continue to be amazed at the cost of, well, pretty much everything these days, but in particular, groceries. We went grocery shopping this past weekend and, once again, I felt the pain of sticker shock.

It’s not like I only go to the store once in a great while either. We usually go shopping at least once a week. And still, the prices sometimes astound me.

But the high prices are only half the story. The packages are getting ever smaller as well. So, my money is buying less and less.

For instance, cereal boxes have become so small, there’s barely any room for the cereal. One popular brand I noticed has nearly doubled in price in the last few years while the box has shrunk to less than half the size. In effect, this is a 300% increase, or four times the cost. And cereal is just one example. There are many products that have done the same thing.

I know, this phenomenon is called inflation. It’s nothing new—been going on for years. It just seems like it’s progressing a little faster these days. Actually, inflation wouldn’t be so bad—if wages kept pace. Unfortunately, mine do not.

So, I started thinking (not always a good thing, I admit). If this process of price increasing and package size decreasing continues at the same rate, in a few short years, we’ll all be paying an awful lot of money for a tiny box of absolutely nothing. Hmm... maybe I should start selling groceries for a living. ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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Structured Chaos

As I’ve mentioned in a couple of previous posts, my wife and I are in the process of installing a new floor in our house. The on-going mess, constant moving of furniture, and general disarray of the place is a bit annoying but we’re learning to live with it. As for the grandchildren—not so much.

This past weekend, I was told by not one, not two, but three different grandchildren that I really needed to clean my house. One of them in particular was not amused with the bathroom door being removed. And the stacks of boxes of books from the bookshelves, dishes from the hutch, and other knick-knacks are bothersome to kids who are used to having the run of the house when they play—or whatever it is they do—did not impress them.

So, after the several “complaints,” I informed them that I was almost done. I meant with the floor; I’ll still need to put on the baseboards and other trim, put the furniture back in place, and empty all the boxes. Eyeing all of that, one of the grandkids gave me a wide-eyed look and shook his head. “No, you’re not.” he said.

Sadly, he was right. It’ll take another week or more—emphasis on the more—to get everything completed. Longer if I keep taking breaks, like writing blog posts. So, it’s back to work—gotta keep the grandkids happy! ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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On This Date In 1997

Twenty years ago today, my family and I arrived in our new town—after moving 2000 miles across the country. I can’t believe it’s been that long. But, I double-checked the calendar and it appears it’s so; it has indeed been twenty years. Still, it’s kind of hard to grasp because it seems like just the other day we drove into town in the U-haul. It seems like just yesterday my kids were young, running through the house, playing, laughing—and yelling at the top of their lungs! And now they are all grown. And I have grandkids. How could that be? Where did the time go?

Away, I think—to answer my own rhetorical question. Gone. But not forgotten.

I remember thinking back then how the idea of my kids moving out on their own seemed so far away. That was fine with me because I rather liked my children (still do too). So, while the empty nest thing concerned me, I didn’t really think about it much. I guess I figured there’d be plenty of time to worry about it in the future. Well, the future is now.

Not that the house is empty, really. I’ve made sure to fill it with lots of stuff—junk mostly, according to my wife. Still, it has a certain emptiness. For the most part, I think I deal with it okay. But sometimes. Sometimes, my overactive memory kicks in. My memory that remembers events, facts and figures, along with other useless trivia—and dates. Like today. October 16th. The date we arrived in Oregon. And then, as you can see, I start my trip down Memory Lane. ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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Sound Of Summer

Anyone remember the ice cream truck? I do, at least when I lived in town, for some reason they didn’t come by my house when we lived five miles out. I was too cheap to buy anything from them usually; I got a lot more for my money at a store. But occasionally, I’d splurge.

In later years, once I had kids, I learned that being cheap was not an option. When the ice cream truck came by, it was a requirement that we buy something EVERY TIME! These days, my grandkids make sure to keep that rule firmly in place. Needless to say, the ice cream truck makes the drive down my street quite often—all summer long.

This past weekend however, there were no grandkids visiting, no one was home except me. I was using the occasion to work on our floor and after several hours of bending over, working on my hands and knees, my bones were complaining that they weren’t as young as they used to be. They seemed to think I should consider a different weekend activity. I ignored them for the most part but every so often, (usually when I stood back up) I thought about how much easier this kind of work was when I was younger. I used to work non-stop all weekend with no ill effects. “I need a time machine,” I told myself.

And that’s when I heard the music. The familiar merry-go-round type music announcing the soon arrival of the ice cream truck! My first thought was that the ice cream man was going to be disappointed since no kids were at my house. But then another thought occurred to me. Maybe the jingly music was the sound of my time machine coming!

In need of a break anyway, I dropped what I was doing and went outside to wait. In just a few a minutes, I was scarfing down my ice cream. The first ice cream I’d bought for myself—from an ice cream truck—in years.

Sadly, I discovered there were no anti-aging effects associated with said ice cream. But it did bring back a few memories of a time long past. So, for a brief moment, I was a kid again.

Oh, and by the way, at $3.00 for one ice cream, I can still get a lot more for my money at a grocery store. ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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Off To Work

Several years ago, back when I had a normal job with normal hours, I used to sleep until the last possible minute before getting up for work. This was due, in part, to not wanting to go to work but mostly because I stayed up until two or three in the morning. Once I finally decided to go to bed, I didn’t really want to get up.

As a result, I spent nearly every morning in a rush, a rush to get dressed and then in a rush driving to work. I usually arrived right at eight o’clock—or a few minutes late. But most everybody else arrived a little late as well, including the boss so it wasn’t that big of a deal. Still, every once in a while, I’d try to change my ways and get there early.

One particular Monday morning, I set the alarm a half an hour earlier than my customary wakeup time—and actually got up too! Instead of being in a hurry, I took my time getting ready and then drove to work without speeding. On the way, I noticed there wasn’t as much traffic as I usually dealt with and I remember thinking what a difference a few minutes made.

When I pulled into the drive at my job, I was pleased to see that no one else was there yet. Not even the guy who usually opened the place and he got there about six or so. I had beaten everyone! I sat in the car and waited for the others to arrive. And waited. As the clock approached eight and then the minutes ticked by, I began to wonder why no one else had shown up. It took to about twenty after, before I realized why they weren’t there, and why the traffic had been so light—it was a holiday and we, like a lot of other businesses, were not open.

I drove back home, amused, and a little irritated. For once, I’d been early—and it had all been for nothing. There hadn’t even been anyone there to see it. But what’s worse, I could’ve stayed in bed! ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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