Grateful for My Simple Life

May 27, 2026 — Pat Bertram

This is not another “ideal life” post, but it comes close. For sure, though, it’s a post about gratitude.

I am utterly and sincerely grateful for my simple life.

I just talked to a woman who has a four-hour daily commute for work, an Australian fiancé, a young son she has sole custody of, all of which turns her life into a logistical . . . well, not nightmare, because her son and her soon-to-be husband are not nightmares, but it creates an untenable situation. He can come here and they can get married, but once he’s applied for a green card he can’t go back to Australia for more than a year. And the same if she were to get married there. They don’t want to live here particularly, but they can’t take the child out of the country until he’s old enough to decide for himself where he wants to live. And if the fiancé moves here, he loses a great job, moves to a place he doesn’t particularly like, and leaves his extended family behind.

As we talked, she mentioned a few other logistical problems. Then we moved on to other topics, such as a mutual acquaintance who is dealing with some of the same issues, though he doesn’t mind living in Thailand with his new wife until she’s able to come to the USA. He has people here who take care of his house for him (me being one of them), but still, he’s been up in the air for over a year about what is eventually going to happen.

And a close relative recently married a Vietnamese woman who was twice turned down for a visitor’s visa. Now they have to go through the lengthy wait for immigration and then a visa (two different bureaucracies, apparently. It’s possible to be okayed for immigration but turned down for a visa.) She doesn’t want to be a US citizen, he doesn’t want to live there permanently (though they are hoping for six months in each place), so I don’t quite know how all that will work out.

But . . . and it’s a big but for me — it’s not my problem!!!

I don’t travel so I don’t have the possible nightmare of falling in love with someone from another country who may or may not be eligible for a move to this country. Frankly, I have no intention of ever being with anyone again. No falling in love, no getting married, no living with anyone. So, see? Simple!! I have no small children to take into consideration, no elderly parents, no horrible commute, no travel expenses.

It’s just me, my house, my simple life.

Maybe it’s a bit insensitive of me to be giving thanks for this simplicity when friends and relatives are dealing with such complexity, but this is the way things turned out for me. Usually at this point, I add a caveat about being aware that on a moment’s notice, things in life can change drastically (perhaps worse but possibly better) but I decided not to do that. I’m just going to bask in the simplicity — and gratefulness — of today.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One

Posted in being me, house, life, relationships. Tags: , , , , , , . 4 Comments »

Bizarre Day

May 12, 2026 — Pat Bertram

I don’t know what got into me yesterday morning. I started out as I always do, just taking it easy, checking the weather, doing a puzzle, posting a blog.

Then out of nowhere, for no reason, I did a load of laundry. It’s not an onerous task by any means — it’s not as if I have to lug the stuff down to the river and beat the garments on the rocks to clean them — but my washing machine shakes and pounds during the spin cycles, and I can’t always deal with that awful noise. I could buy a new washer, of course, but that brings a whole new set of problems, mostly logistic, but still, not something I want to deal with right now.

Figuring I was inured to the noise, when that load was done, I stripped my bed and washed the linens and mattress pad. Oddly, the machine never made a sound. So when that was done, I did my last load of laundry just to get it out of the way.

Meantime, I emptied the dishwasher, rotated the mattress, cleaned house (dusted everything and dry mopped the floors), went down to the basement and changed the furnace filter. Then I packed up a book to mail, took it to the post office, ran a few more errands, and checked on a friend’s house for him while he’s out of town.

Utterly bizarre. I don’t usually do that much in a month!

The afternoon was a lazy one since I’d done everything that needed to be done, and besides, I was exhausted.

Today might be another lazy day. I don’t have to water, though I will go out and check on my newly planted petunias, and probably grab a few weeds while I’m out there. Then the rest of the day is wide open. I’m not sure what I will do with all that freedom. Just enjoy the clean house and pretty yard, I guess. Not a bad way to spend a day!

The photo below is what I see when I look out of a back window. Whenever I’m waiting for something to cook or boil or steep, I go to the window and just marvel at the beauty.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One

Posted in being me, blogging, gardening, home, house, life. Tags: , , , , . 7 Comments »

Minimalist Living

May 10, 2026 — Pat Bertram
Daily writing prompt
What are the biggest benefits of minimalist living?
View all responses

I had no idea “minimalist living” was a thing. A simple Google search showed me hundreds of articles about how to become a minimalist, including a lifestyle guide to minimalist living, a complete beginner’s guide to minimalism, ways to start living a minimalist lifestyle, how to ease into a minimalist lifestyle, how to convert your family to a minimalist lifestyle. And on. And on. And on.

Weird. Who knew you had to learn to live a minimalist lifestyle? It’s probably the simplest thing imaginable. You just live . . . minimally.

The truth is, I’ve been living a minimalist lifestyle my whole life, but I don’t call it that. I call it not buying things I didn’t need. I call it living debt-free, not buying anything I can’t afford right now. (My thought has always been that if I can’t afford it today, why would I suddenly be able to afford it when the bill came due? More than that, though, I’ve always had a fear of being in debt. Perhaps I read too many books about owing money to gangsters in my youth.)

I call my minimalist lifestyle “using, reusing, using up.” I call it not wasting anything, especially not food. (How do people live with themselves when they throw away perfectly good food because they don’t like leftovers? I don’t eat leftovers either. At least not by that word. I call any uneaten food a pre-cooked meal or tomorrow’s fuss-free lunch.)

I know one thing minimalism isn’t — following someone else’s guide to minimalism.

I have way more stuff than the minimalism gurus suggest, but a lot of that was hand-me-downs, such as my furniture. Instead of doing nothing in a relative’s storage unit, I get the use of those lovely items. (According to him, it’s my furniture now. I guess he was minimalizing his life by maximizing mine!) A lot of other stuff I own is left from the retail business Jeff and I used to run, though gradually, I’m finding people to dump the stuff on. (Oops. I mean finding people to donate it to.) All my extraneous stuff is neatly packed away on shelves in my garage, so it’s not in the way. Since I don’t like things on the walls in my house, my finished paint-by-number pictures and other “artwork” decorate my garage. And if I get something new, such as a gift, I get rid of something old. It doesn’t reduce what I own, but it keeps me from becoming a hoarder.

To me, minimalism isn’t so much about what I own but what I do. I try to do only one thing at a time. Not only that, I am truly a minimalist when it comes to letting — or rather not letting — the world intrude on my life.  I don’t listen to music while I do chores or whatever. Actually, though I am loath to admit it, I don’t listen to music at all because, to my tin ear, it’s all just noise. Besides, I hate having snatches of songs stuck in my head. I prefer silence. I don’t watch television, either, and when I’m on the computer, I have the volume turned off.

So what are the benefits of my minimalist style of living? Well, no debt, for one. (The typical U.S. household is carrying about $105,000 in debt. Yikes. How do people do that? Doesn’t it make them crazy to owe that much?) My income is also minimalist, but it’s not a problem because my minimalist lifestyle is one I can afford. At least for now. Since I’ve kept the same vehicle for the past fifty-four years, I don’t have to deal with a car payment, and since my driving is minimal, I don’t spend much on gas. (In fact, for me, gas is always the same price — I put in twenty-dollars’ worth each time I get gas, and that’s that.)

Other benefits — less stress since I don’t have to worry about paying off a debt. Peace of mind because I try to keep my mind as uncluttered as the rest of my life. A feeling of lightness since having too many possessions weighs me down. An ability to enjoy the small pleasures of life, such as flowers in my garden, since I haven’t straightjacketed myself into a hectic routine.

I can’t imagine living an opulent life (or whatever the opposite of a minimalist life would be). This minimalism is so ingrained in me that, to me, it’s just life.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One

Posted in being me, culture, gardening, home, house, life. Tags: , , , , , , , , , . 5 Comments »

No Regrets

April 19, 2026 — Pat Bertram
Daily writing prompt
Describe a risk you took that you do not regret.
View all responses

I don’t like taking risks. Too often I’ve seen people taking risks, such as with their investments, because as “everyone” knows, the bigger the risk, the greater the rewards. Except, of course, when those risks don’t deliver the sure thing people are expecting. Quite frankly, I’m not sure “everyone” knows what a risk is — if they don’t get the outcome their bravery at taking the risk seems to call for, then they’re shocked and they get upset. But that’s what a risk is — you take a chance, and it might work out or it might not.

In my case, I never take a risk if I can’t handle the negative outcome. Which means, I don’t take risks.

And yet . . .

I’ve done a few things that other people considered extremely risky, though I didn’t. Ten years ago, when I planned a cross-country trip in my vintage VW bug, people were horrified and kept telling me I couldn’t do it, that it was too dangerous for me to go alone. Of course, none of those people offered to go with me to mitigate the danger, but it wouldn’t have mattered. The point was for me to do it by myself.

I wasn’t foolish about the trip. I had my car restored, a new engine put in, bought reliable camping equipment, and stocked up on emergency supplies for when unexpected and perhaps dangerous things might happen. And dangerous things did happen, but I handled whatever came along. To me, it was all part of the adventure, that willingness to go wherever the road took me and to live with the uncertainty (and consequences) of each day. Even more than that, it was a way of reclaiming my life after the death of both Jeff and my father. (After Jeff died, I was left homeless, so I went to take care of my father, and after he died, I was left homeless again.)

Perhaps the trip was a risk, but I didn’t see it as such. I wouldn’t do a long trip again, though just writing this I think maybe . . . someday . . . Still, the car is ten years older, as am I, and I’m not willing to put myself in the danger a trip could bring, not just the driving danger, but the uncertainty of the situations I might encounter — the USA isn’t the same as it was ten years ago, and even back then there were times I wasn’t sure what country I was in.

Besides, I’m homeful now, not homeless, so there is a lot more at risk than there was a decade ago.

Another risk I took was when I bought this house sight unseen. I’d seen photos, of course, and had an inspector check out the house, but I never saw it as a risk. The way I figured, it was my house, and I’d do whatever needed to be done. Other people were appalled at what they thought was my lackadaisical outlook, and the realtor made me sign a document absolving her of any responsibility if things didn’t work out.

I don’t regret either of these risks. Both worked out, but however they would have worked out, they would have worked out. I’m just glad, and so very thankful, to have had both these experiences.

Nope, no regrets at all!

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.

Posted in Adventure, house, life. Tags: , , , , , , , , . 9 Comments »

Family, Friends, and a Reason to Celebrate

March 9, 2026 — Pat Bertram

I had the weird experience yesterday of living in two different time zones depending on what room I was in. In one room, it was afternoon, and in the other, before noon. It didn’t really matter, apparently, since it took me a while to realize that there were two different times in my house. I mean, I knew it was 12:30 in one room but immediately forgot what the time was. Fifteen minutes later, I went into the kitchen and there the time was 11:45. Figuring I’d misread the time in the other room, I went back and checked my phone again. Confused the heck out of me why I’d lost an hour in one room but not the other.

Then, of course, light dawned. Sheesh. Daylight saving time. Unlike my phone and computer, the stove and microwave don’t change the time automatically.

Neither does my body.

I never think the time change will affect me since I get up with the sun, but it does, mostly because bedtime comes an hour earlier (which really means an hour or two later since I’m not tired enough to fall asleep, so I toss and turn longer than if I had simply gone to bed an hour later).

I hope this moment of confusion isn’t indicative of what my old age will be like — a lot of confusion with (hopefully) a quick dawning of understanding.

Of course, if I’d looked at the calendar or continued my perusal of online articles, I would have been reminded, but I’ve been narrowing my focus to what is in my immediate surroundings.

And apparently, yesterday, what was in my immediate surrounding was two different time zones — MST and MDT.

I have been enjoying my narrowed focus. (Even though it’s an online activity, blogging is still a narrowed focus because what I see is the words in my mind being written in black and white.) It helps that the weather is nice so I can go outside to expand my horizons, but I’ve also been bringing my horizons inside. At least, I did on Saturday, which was the seventh anniversary of my buying this house.

The house anniversary is one of the few dates in my life I like to celebrate, and so does my next-door neighbor. (Apparently, I was an answer to her prayer for a good neighbor. Makes me feel special since I’ve never — to my knowledge — been the answer to anyone’s prayers.) To honor the occasion, she gave me these gorgeous roses!

She and a few other friends came to help me celebrate. It was nice that they couldn’t all come at once, so I was able to visit one on one or one on two which is best for me. I find more company than that causes me too much confusion, though unlike the time difference mentioned above, this isn’t age-related confusion (or whatever the problem with the time was) but simply the way I’ve always been.

My sister had asked what I wanted for a gift. Since I don’t need anything, I told her I’d like gifts for my friends. So she made me the most wonderful party favor kit, which was great on so many levels.

I had the fun of receiving the box of goodies, the fun of assembling the kit, and the fun of handing them out.

So, who needs a broader focus in life when one has family, friends, a reason to celebrate, and lovely hostess gifts to hand out!

I was proud of myself for cleaning up immediately afterward, so yesterday morning I woke to a clean house rather than a mess. Not that we left much of a mess, but I had to clear the table and do the dishes as well as finish the leftovers since I don’t like having cake and ice cream on hand. Though to be honest, I never have them on hand because if I do, they are too soon gobbled up, and neither of those treats treat me well.

So that catches us up on my news. I’ve been spending my blog time on topics other than me (though in a way, everything I write is about me or at least what I think), but there’s truly been nothing much going on in my life to write about.

Still, it’s been nice having this narrow focus even if it doesn’t give me a lot of fodder for blogging.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.

Posted in being me, blogging, dealing with old age, home, house, life. Tags: , , , , , , . 7 Comments »

Creating a Peaceful Place

February 26, 2026 — Pat Bertram
Daily writing prompt
Describe the most ambitious DIY project you’ve ever taken on.
View all responses

The most ambitious DIY project I’ve ever taken on? That’s easy. Landscaping my yard.

When I moved here, the yard was dirt and weeds. It looked okay because the weeds had been cut down to make the house look good when it was put on the market, but still, just weeds. I hadn’t planned on doing anything to improve the property because I didn’t want to have to take care of a yard, but there were things that needed to be done, such as rocks laid around the house to protect the foundation. Then, when I found out I was tripping on all the holes and rocks among the weeds, I decided I needed walking paths of crushed rock to keep from falling and breaking my neck. Or a hip, anyway.

Admittedly, I didn’t do any of the rock labor, but the finished work gave me a sort of yard pride that seemed to demand further work. So gradually, I planted a few bushes, a few flowers, filled in some of the gardens that were created by the walkways, and things escalated from there.

I had a lawn mower, so I put in a bit of a lawn since I didn’t want the mower to go to waste (a silly reason for a lawn, I know, but it’s the truth). I had sod put in, but when that all died (the people I hired put in the wrong grass), I dug it up and planted a more heat-resistant strain of grass.

And so it goes . . .

What makes this DIY project so ambitious is that there doesn’t seem to be an end to it. There’s a lot of work just involved in maintenance, so that keeps me outside for a couple of hours each day, which makes me see how much more I can improve. I can see spots that need to be filled in or bits of color that will improve the looks of one of the gardens. And then there are container gardens and hanging pots to be replanted every year.

Yep, an unending project when in fact, what I had wanted was a yard that took no work.

Oh, well, there are worse things than a garden demands attention. And truly, I can’t think of a better use of my time than creating this peaceful place.

Besides, there all are the surprises I find, like this morning. Look! Crocuses!

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.

Posted in gardening, home, house, life. Tags: , , , , , , , . 8 Comments »

Splurging and Treating Myself

February 9, 2026 — Pat Bertram

My financial advisor suggested that I splurge and treat myself. “Financial advisor” is how I sometimes jokingly refer to my sibling who helps me navigate various “grown-up” activities, such as buying a house. Despite the facetious title, his being an advisor on financial matters isn’t a joke. Without him, I would have been at a loss as to find a house let alone buy it. I wouldn’t have had any furniture. And I especially wouldn’t have a clue how to do any of the various chores necessary to keep up the house.

My advisor knows what a tight budget I am on, so his “treat suggestion” came as a bit of a surprise. Still, it’s not a bad idea, perhaps even good for my morale. Many women seem to find satisfaction in treating themselves to a new pair of “cute” shoes, but that whole “cute shoe” gene seems to have passed me by. I do have a few pairs of shoes, all comfortable utilitarian types, such as walking shoes or hiking boots, or slip-ons to wear to go out and check the mail. I even have a couple of pairs of black sneakers (for lack of a better term) that I can use if I want to appear less casual. Whenever I get a ride to a big city, I make sure to stop by a sporting goods store to stock up on a couple more pairs of cheap shoes because I never know when I’ll get another opportunity to shop. It’s a good thing, too. When I get home and actually wear the shoes, sometimes they are too big, in which case I set them aside for gardening shoes. Or they’re too small, in which case I only wear them when I drive to do errands. Those that are “just right” I put in my shoe rotation. (I find it’s easier on my feet if I don’t wear the same pair of shoes all the time.)

But a new pair of basic running around shoes is neither a splurge or a treat. It’s more a matter of opportunity.

My diet is fairly basic, mostly real foods, though I do occasionally go to lunch with a friend, which is a treat but not a splurge. It’s more of a necessity, both the company and a meal that is different from what I normally eat. And anyway, it’s in my budget.

If I could find books for my personal library that I would like to read and reread, I’d snap them up in a second (budget or no budget!), but most books aren’t worth reading once let alone twice, and any book that I don’t plan on reading (or reading again) becomes . . . clutter.

I don’t wear all the clothes I have now, so getting something new wouldn’t really be a treat. Mostly I wear old things around the house, depending more on comfort and warmth (or coolth in the summer) than fashion. I don’t even feel bad about not looking my best because I don’t look at myself — I look at what I’m doing. If I go out somewhere, errands or to that occasional lunch, I wear something nice, and I have plenty of “something nice” to wear. Besides, whatever I wear is covered by a coat for half the year, so it doesn’t really matter.

I used to splurge on hats, but I’ve reached a critical mass on headgear. I certainly don’t need more hats!

I have plenty of kitchenware, all the furniture I want, all the . . . I guess, for the most part, I have everything I want. I am by myself and don’t wear things out very quickly. The only thing I might have to get one of these days is a new computer. Although it still seems to me to be rather new, at a little more than seven years, it’s old in computer terms. But that won’t be a splurge. It’s already budgeted for.

Come late spring, of course, I will splurge, might even treat myself to a few expensive plants that I might not otherwise have bothered with, but planting season is still months away.

Until then . . . I don’t know. I suppose it’s a treat thinking about something to splurge on, but for now I’ll stick to my frugal ways.

What would you splurge on?

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.

Posted in being me, house, life. Tags: , , , , , . 8 Comments »

Grateful

February 4, 2026 — Pat Bertram
Daily writing prompt
How do significant life events or the passage of time influence your perspective on life?
View all responses

I’ve experienced many significant life events and life-changing experiences that influenced my perspective on life, but I don’t have any interest in rehashing any those past traumas. Nor do I have any present traumas to talk about since, luckily, I’m going through a rather static time right now. No major life experiences. I am still enamored with the experience of owning my own home and landscaping the yard, but that’s become simply my life.

What does affect me, and does more every day, is the passage of time. I’ve reached the age of no return — my body no longer heals itself quickly, and so small infirmities will begin to add up leading inevitably to a frailer old age than I might have envisioned. If I’m careful, I might not become as frail as I fear, so that’s the big way that time influences my perspective on life now —carefulness. Mindfulness.

Mindfulness is not some sort of esoteric practice, but a very practical way of approaching the end of the road — being careful. I used to move quickly, but now I move deliberately, mindful of where I place my feet. Too many older people have lost their independence because of a fall, and I’ve already destroyed enough of my body by falling (fake elbow, multiple pins in my wrist and forearm). I tend to think I’m still too young to have to worry about losing my independence, but things can happen in an instance, and I am not taking a chance. At least I’m trying not to.

I take care of myself as best as I can, though I admit, it’s not as good a job as I did when I was younger. I might also be coddling myself more than I should, using any small malady as an excuse not to exercise, but maybe coddling is a necessary a part of taking care of oneself.

I also do things like find chores in the kitchen while I’m cooking so that I don’t get distracted and walk away from a potential hazard. And I pay attention to the sort of accidents that happen when people get older so that I can protect myself, if at all possible, from that happening to me. (Not that we can protect ourselves from everything, but being careful means at least trying.)

Mostly, I’m grateful. Grateful for everything I can do. Grateful for every day I wake up. Grateful for every pain-free moment. Grateful I can still read and understand what I’m reading. Grateful I can still eat what I like. Grateful for the friends I have and the companionship they give me.

Just . . . grateful.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.

Posted in being me, dealing with old age, house, life. Tags: , , , , , , , . 7 Comments »

Comfortable Clutter

January 16, 2026 — Pat Bertram
Daily writing prompt
Where can you reduce clutter in your life?
View all responses

The easiest place for me to reduce clutter in my life right now is to clear up my desk and worktable. Except for my office, where I spend most of my time, I keep surfaces free from clutter. I was always sort of messy, never really having the energy to do a lot of cleaning, but ever since I moved into my own house, I’ve kept everything neat and clutter-free. I like the clean lines — no photos or pictures on the walls, nothing but lamps on the side tables, books in their proper place, kitchen counters bare. I also like that people can drop by without my getting embarrassed by my lack of housekeeping skills.

My cupboards are full of kitchenware and other necessities, but I make sure that whenever I get new items, instead of further cluttering those cabinets, I get rid of an equal number of older items.

I have a lot of boxes of things stored in my garage, but they’re not exactly clutter, at least not according to the definition of clutter as being a disorganized mess — my garage is neatly organized. Still, there are many things, maybe even most things, that I will get rid of, but not yet. Too often in my life, I’ve disposed of various items, particularly materials and tools for a special project, and then later had to buy those items again. There’s a good chance I won’t use most of what I have since my project days seem to be over, but I don’t know for sure, so there the boxes sit. And anyway, the would-be clutter is out of the house so I don’t have to think about or stumble on boxes of stuff. It does help that I got rid of about half of what we owned when Jeff died and I moved in with my father, and another significant portion when my father died and once again, I had to move on. I am clearing the rest out gradually, but at the rate I’m going, I’ll be one hundred and ten by the time everything is gone, but oh, please! Don’t make me live that long!

Mental clutter is pretty much the same, with any possible issues either left in the past, neatly stored away for easy retrieval, or dumped here on this blog.

So am I going to clear up the clutter on my desk? Probably not. Everything I need is right at hand, and if there is too much clutter, well, it’s comfortable clutter, not an embarrassing mess.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.

Posted in blogging, house, life. Tags: , , , , , , , . 13 Comments »

My Interesting Morning

January 3, 2026 — Pat Bertram

I had an exciting morning — a census taker came to my house, which had been selected as part of a randomly selected sample for the American Community Survey. It was my address that was chosen, not me, but still, they wanted my personal information. I don’t know why I hesitated to give my name, and in the end, I didn’t — the census guy said he could put down “lady of the house,” which I agreed to, but I felt silly. They had my address, obviously, and my phone number, so my name would be readily available if they really wanted it. Still, it was one of the few rebellions one such as I (a quiet person not given to demonstrations) is allowed.

I questioned if my participation was necessary, and he pointed to the paragraph that said I was required by law to respond to the survey. I was given a few options: talk to him, do it online, or do it by email. I gave in with good grace, and went ahead and answered his questions. And he answered mine as to the purpose of the survey.

Supposedly, it’s about trying to get people in rural areas a more equitable property insurance, that our insurance out here in the boondocks shouldn’t be dependent on the fires in other states and people in large cities. Which I agree with. People in rural areas, especially people who live in states where the power is centered in a couple of large cities with completely different values, have little representation. Almost everything that happens here is decided in the front range cities. Our vote counts for little in the state, and even in the federal government. Our senators come from the cities, and even the one representative we have doesn’t represent us, only herself. (When it seemed as if she would lose her bid for a second term in Colorado’s Third Congressional District, she moved to the Fourth District, to avoid a difficult rematch. So it’s readily apparent where her loyalties lie.)

After the survey, the census taker and I continued to talk about the problems of living in an area of little to no representation, and we eventually segued to talk of our non-representative’s bill to reschedule the repayment of the Arkansas Valley Conduit Project. He knows more about this region than I do, since he has lived in this area for most of his life, and his family before him. He mentioned the same thing I did — that in the decades since the project was first approved, the rural cities themselves put forth the money to build filtration plants, so the supposed 50,000 people the project is supposed to serve is probably half that. And, as he pointed out, with cost overruns and project delays, few people alive today will be around to benefit. And, considering that these distant rural areas are losing populations, there will be even fewer.

What we both wondered, is where the money is going. Since nothing that Colorado has done since I moved here has benefited this area in any way, the questions have to be asked — why here, why now?

It’s possible that our non-representative is trying to make herself relevant, but who knows. It’s this sort of insanity that creates conspiracy theories. But then, as a prolific reader of mysteries, I know to ask: cui bono. All I know, is it’s not I who will ever benefit.

I’m also sure that filling out the survey won’t benefit me — insurance companies, like states, don’t care about the far-flung rural residents who can’t benefit them, so chances are, nothing will change.

Still, it was an exciting morning. Maybe it wouldn’t have been for you, of course, but for me, who spends most of my time alone and in my own head, it was interesting to talk to someone who knew more of the truth than I do.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.

Posted in house, life. Tags: , , , , , , , , . 3 Comments »
« Older posts