The Stamp Roll

I used to write a lot of checks.   Years ago, I mean.   I remember getting my first check book and then later, moving into my first place in college and having bills come in the mail I had to pay.    It was exciting, having all that responsibility myself to manage my finances.

Back then credit cards existed, but weren't the main method of payment like they are today.   Bills couldn't be paid online and at the grocery store, paying by check was one of the most popular ways people settled their bills.     So I had a lot of checks and a checking account and a lot of bills that needed to be paid.

Those bills needed stamps put on the envelopes.    I got books of stamps but they were used up quickly so I moved to a roll of stamps.   My mother gave me a small, lucite stamp roll holder that I could put a full roll into.   I could pull out one stamp at a time, lick it—remember how stamps had to be licked?—and put it onto the envelope.    I loved my little stamp roll.

Over the years, other methods of payment became more popular, such as auto draft for bills.   I started using less stamps.   About that same time, we had a series of stamp increases that would happen annoyingly before I had used up the current-valued stamp roll.    So I stopped buying rolls of stamps and went back to the stamp booklets.

Most recently, we have the new "Forever" stamp.   It doesn't matter if you buy it today and use it thirty years from now, it will still get your letter or bill there.  I looked in my drawer where the lucite stamp roll holder had been sitting for years, empty and thought, "now I can use you again."  

I got a roll of stamps, prepared to put it in my roll holder and ran into a problem: the new sticker-type of stamps is a physically larger roll.    Never fear, I rolled it tighter and tighter until I could wedge it in.  

Every time I use a stamp from my stamp dispenser it makes me feel a little bit happier.

The Big Boy Update:  I didn't hear the start of the conversation, but I had to stifle a laugh when I heard my husband telling my son, "your butt doesn't get spicy, it gets itchy."

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter said, "look at me, mom" this morning.  I looked over to see her arched back on the seat of a chair.   She kicked her legs over, put her hands on the floor and did a perfect back-walkover.    She figured that one out on her own.

Fitness Update:  Ten miles today.   I fell badly at mile nine-and-a-half, tearing my pants at the knee.   I saved my hands because I was wearing the running gloves Uncle Bob and Uncle Brian gave me for Christmas.    I had turned my ankle, which caused the fall.   Any time I turn an ankle I automatically drop to the ground, catching my body with my hands.   I'm not sure how I got out of it with only a little knee scrape, but I'm fine otherwise.