Yesterday I realised that many read newspapers on line.  That is if they read papers at all.  Mostly it seems that any news they may be interested in comes  in small bites/chunks off the internet and sometimes the television or word of mouth, basically a lot of ephemeral gossip!

That is how it used to work in the olden days, (word of mouth, not the internet of course) even before my childhood!

Something that happened in London could take up to 2 years to reach Scotland by Peasant Power and remember that old game, Chinese Whispers?

Yes,  by the time the news reached Scotland the message had probably changed beyond all recognition. The Queen’s got a cold, probably came out as something like – The palace has mould!

Of course important news, i.e. Send 600 troops to help conquer William, love Harold!  Or maybe, Down with the Monasteries, regards Henry!  Were sent first class postage, which in those days cost a herd of horses and you didn’t have to lick them nor did you have to worry about getting the head the right way up.

Oh,  maybe you didn’t know it was treason to get the Rulers head upside down on a paper stamp.  Might still be for all I know!

We are old so we still have proper newspapers.  One of its primary functions is that my Other Half has to walk to the shop and back to collect it/them (sometimes we have more than one) thus getting his  daily exercise, absolutely crucial in helping  him live forever according to our GP.

And then of course sitting opposite his barrier of news I can read all the items that reading it for my self I would probably just skim over and a bonus is that we don’t have to converse, or even communicate once that paper wall goes up.

And apart from reading them, I can wrap things in them, and light fires with them or even re-cycle them.

Or give them to a friend who is trying to train 3 puppies not to pee on the floor.  And that is the reason that I started thinking about this subject in the first place.  She has been having to resort to buying a newspaper just for them to wee on!

I bet the Ghosts of paper ironing Victorian Butlers are revolving in their graves!