Now, isn't that nice? I just discovered a lever on my computer keyboard that makes the screen larger. A "zoom," it's called.
We'll be seeing more and more of this, I guess, as the population greys. Sometime soon there will be more people over 65 years old in America than there will be children in school.
When I was a young woman, I would thread a half -dozen needles for my mother every time I visited, so that she could sew on a button in between visits from me. This morning I needed to sew one on myself, and spent at least five fruitless minutes struggling with threading the needle before I finally got the thread through the eye. What's going on, I asked myself as I put the end of the thread in my mouth for the tenth time. Are they making thread thicker now than they used to? Or are they making the eyes of needles finer? Why do they do that?
They don't, of course. But never mind.
Who knew that picking up small things was difficult? It ought be to picking up big things that's hard, oughtn't it? But never mind.
Up, up! said the sweet young woman at the cosmetics party I went to last week as she watched me apply moisturizer. Yes, I know: I read the same thing in a magazine--we should always use upward motions when we wash our faces or slather on cream, or even when we blow our noses or cry. Don't collude in what the law of gravity is trying to do to your face. Don't make it worse than it already is. It's true that my cheeks are heading south fast, but I'm not sure I'm going to be able to remember this when I cry. But never mind.
Eventually it will all be like threading a needle -- we just won't be able todoit. Someone else is going to have to do it for us, or it just won't get done and the world will go on turning.
Which is what we mean when we say "Never mind."