One of the greatest joys of summer is eating breakfast on the back porch, reading the newspaper and watching the animals graze.
Obtaining a newspaper is the difficult part.
Because we live in the country, we cannot receive daily newspaper delivery. But on Sundays, we receive home delivery of two papers -- one, surprisingly, being the New York Times.
However, the delivery has been spotty at best in the past six months.
Checking to see if the newspaper has arrived is a half-mile round trip -- each time. Lately, the dogs and I have been logging two to two and a half miles each Sunday as we walk down the driveway in search of a newspaper.
If I want a morning newspaper on other days, I sometimes bike to the nearest village and buy one. That's a 10 or 12 mile round trip, depending on the village I choose.
This morning, I pedaled to Russia.
When I coasted to the newspaper box, it was empty.