My wife and I don't like our local skinny paper, so on weekends we order a fat one from the Big City. Sometimes we're astounded at the things the paper looks like, strewn about the house.
Once a section of paper fell in an upright position that looked like the pup tent I use when I camp out fishing; and last week I wadded up a few sheets in a fit of irritability, and they looked like misshapen snowballs, ready to roll downhill; then there was the time my wife put the paper so close the edge of the table that it fell off, making a torrent of sheets that looked like a miniature waterfall before it all landed on the floor. There was the time my wife called me to come look: "See how we dropped the sheets; they fell in a pattern, and it looks like the way my mother used to lay out her quilts and blankets to air them on the back porch." And I could go on and on like that.
Yes, sir: The shapes we see in the way our Sunday paper sometimes gets shuffled never fails to amaze us. Sometimes the things we see in the pattern of fallen sheets is more interesting than what we read on the printed pages!
Once a section of paper fell in an upright position that looked like the pup tent I use when I camp out fishing; and last week I wadded up a few sheets in a fit of irritability, and they looked like misshapen snowballs, ready to roll downhill; then there was the time my wife put the paper so close the edge of the table that it fell off, making a torrent of sheets that looked like a miniature waterfall before it all landed on the floor. There was the time my wife called me to come look: "See how we dropped the sheets; they fell in a pattern, and it looks like the way my mother used to lay out her quilts and blankets to air them on the back porch." And I could go on and on like that.
Yes, sir: The shapes we see in the way our Sunday paper sometimes gets shuffled never fails to amaze us. Sometimes the things we see in the pattern of fallen sheets is more interesting than what we read on the printed pages!
