1.0PoohsDenhttps://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsdenVinithahttps://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsden/author/pooh_admin/rich600338<blockquote class="wp-embedded-content" data-secret="faY4PUR719"><a href="https://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsden/n/">N: Newspaper</a></blockquote><iframe sandbox="allow-scripts" security="restricted" src="https://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsden/n/embed/#?secret=faY4PUR719" width="600" height="338" title="“N: Newspaper” — PoohsDen" data-secret="faY4PUR719" frameborder="0" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" class="wp-embedded-content"></iframe><script type="text/javascript"> /* <![CDATA[ */ /*! This file is auto-generated */ !function(d,l){"use strict";l.querySelector&&d.addEventListener&&"undefined"!=typeof URL&&(d.wp=d.wp||{},d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage||(d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage=function(e){var t=e.data;if((t||t.secret||t.message||t.value)&&!/[^a-zA-Z0-9]/.test(t.secret)){for(var s,r,n,a=l.querySelectorAll('iframe[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),o=l.querySelectorAll('blockquote[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),c=new RegExp("^https?:$","i"),i=0;i<o.length;i++)o[i].style.display="none";for(i=0;i<a.length;i++)s=a[i],e.source===s.contentWindow&&(s.removeAttribute("style"),"height"===t.message?(1e3<(r=parseInt(t.value,10))?r=1e3:~~r<200&&(r=200),s.height=r):"link"===t.message&&(r=new URL(s.getAttribute("src")),n=new URL(t.value),c.test(n.protocol))&&n.host===r.host&&l.activeElement===s&&(d.top.location.href=t.value))}},d.addEventListener("message",d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage,!1),l.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded",function(){for(var e,t,s=l.querySelectorAll("iframe.wp-embedded-content"),r=0;r<s.length;r++)(t=(e=s[r]).getAttribute("data-secret"))||(t=Math.random().toString(36).substring(2,12),e.src+="#?secret="+t,e.setAttribute("data-secret",t)),e.contentWindow.postMessage({message:"ready",secret:t},"*")},!1)))}(window,document); //# sourceURL=https://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsden/wp-includes/js/wp-embed.min.js /* ]]> */ </script> Another lingering memory of childhood is the morning newspaper and magazine delivery. Sitting at the front steps with a glass of milk on the side waiting for the paper. Fighting for the sections and sharing tit-bits. I still enjoy the morning ritual of reading the newspaper with my cup of tea (yeah that’s the grownup me). Though I complain bitterly about the quality of the newspapers these days, it is a ritual that sticks. These days I watch kuttyma pour over the cartoons and weather reports. The ball keeps rolling. We also used to get a few magazines and fight over them. Happiness was always black and white for me. A haiku to celebrate the memory Morning rush, chaos Paper to cherish it with Sip of scalding milk   A bud unfurling The world blooms page by page All in black and white   Words to discover Places to wander, discover Fuel to dreams of night   Movies, cartoons, sports Editorials that kindle Crosswords, a look back   Children supplement Making Saturdays special Puzzles to fathom   Monthly subscriptions Gokulum, Champak, Wisdom, Readers Digest, others   Fighting for a turn With brother and the whole clan The scent of fresh […]http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BE86rSkt3m0/VMacoopGa0I/AAAAAAAARLM/D2u_huL7iF8/s1600/N.jpg