Slowly It Happens, Like Termites in the Floor Joists, Or Fading Vision in Middle Age, or Recyclables Stacking Up in the Corner.

Only you never thought it would happen to you.
We've entered the world of on-line commerce, only we didn't do it on purpose, and before five minutes ago, if you'd asked me, I'd've said, No, we don't do that high tech stuff.
We're not counted in that percentage of people/businesses/organic farms that does business over the Internet. Then it hit me.
As of two weeks ago, the good people of Hot Springs have recieved from me an email listing the fish we've brought back from the Outer Banks. Anyone interested in a pound or two merely responds to the email, telling me how much of what.
It seemed like a logical replacement to my former method, which was to call a dozen people on Wednesday morning, leave messages for some, chit chat with others, and try to get some work done at the same time.
The email system is a lot more efficient. And indicates, it occurs to me, that everyone I know has email.
I know not what to make of this, and perhaps should make nothing at all, but then, it is something of a milestone - if not the actual act, then the realization that the act has occurred.
I neither approve nor disapprove of this turn of things; it comes with no emotions at all, in fact. Perhaps that's what I'm getting at: the uneventfulness of it, the gradual if not unnoticed quality of slipping into the futuristic mainstream.