your packpack.  That used to be one of the mottos I lived by when I first arrived here to the land of where I walked almost everywhere I went.  My school was two miles from the Attic and believe me there were days, rainy ones and lazy ones, when I would rather have gotten in Harv (my very old compact car, named after actor Harvey Keitel but that’s another story for another post) but the lack of parking and 2 hour strictly enforced parking scenario conspired to keep me trundling along on foot. 

As a result, my packpack and I were inseparable buddies and I became a veritable pack mule who hauled books, groceries, and more books on my back.  Even if I was just running up to the corner market to purchase my weekly hit of extra Hope in form of a lotto ticket, I strapped on my packpack since one never knew what might need carted home. 

Earlier this afternoon I took a stroll up to the corner store to purchase a Sunday newspaper.  Less than a block from my destination I came across a cardboard box filled to the brim with one of my most favorita things in the whole wide world – magazines or what I fondly call mags.  I have previously blogged about my love of mags and to find ones in excellent condition for the perfect price of Free, well that’s pretty doggone good.  The only damper on the smile that filled my face was the realization that I had broken my cardinal rule and had, unplannedly, left the Attic without said packpack. 

I fought the urge to scoop up the free mags on my way to purchase the newspaper and told myself that if this wonderful find was meant to be that they would be there on my return trip.  They were!  probably because I whispered the mantra of please still be there please still be there the rest of the way to the store and back.  As I knelt beside the brown box I picked up the top mag which was a 2 year old issue of the Sunset publication, in excellent condition I might add, I performed the mandatory sniff test, smelling for any whiffs of urine from any origin (dog, cat, squirrel) or heavy cig smoke.  To my quickly growing delight, the mags passed this test with flying colors, not even a hint of mildew or mustiness.  Some of the mags like Bon Appetit and Gourmet were still in their plastic wrap as they are current issues!  I had to remind myself to take a deep breath so as not to hyperventilate from the sheer excitement of my Find of the Weekend.  I loaded up my arms with as many of the mags as I could carry and while doing so, I wished several times, once out loud, that I had my trusty packpack. 

So let this be a lesson to anyone who regularly walks when they run (why do we say run] errands ~ do not leave home without your packpack, even if you do call it a backpack.