The Fall of My Life

I’m trying to figure out why I have so little time. The kids are grown and gone and the job and responsibilities and commitments are  pretty much the same. But I have less time than I had years ago.  How is this possible?  I’m not sitting around.  I’m busy from the time I kick out of bed, til I crawl back in at night.  But it feels like I can’t catch up with myself and the weeks and months just fly by.  How did I do all those things, years ago, when I also had little kids to  take care of?

Maybe it’s because I’m slower.  Maybe I vacuum slower, wash dishes slower, fix dinner more slowly than I used to.  Possible but hard to prove.  I never timed myself doing any of those things.

We do live further away from everything than we did when the kids were little.  That takes more time each day, each trip. But then again, I’m no longer carpooling kids to and from school and their friends and after school events and weekend parties.

Maybe I’m just spending my time differently.  We didn’t have computers and the internet when the kids were little.  But then, I used to sew clothes and do calligraphy and cross stitch when the kids were little.  Haven’t touched any of those things in years.

And then the light bulb went on!

I’m entering the fall of my life!  (I think.  I Googled “seasons of life”  but couldn’t find the actual equinox for the fall of life.  But I think I’m in it.)  And what happens in the fall? The days get shorter.  That’s it.  It’s not my imagination, it’s not because I’m slower or just filling my time with too much computer use.  It’s just a fact.  My days are shorter than yours, ‘cuz I’m in the fall of my life.

The First Day of Spring 2012

My co-worker breezed in the door this morning with her usual sweet smile, cheery “hello,” and “how are you?”  We exchanged the expected pleasantries and settled into our places. Then she announced, “Today is the first day of spring.”

I was thankful she couldn’t see me because I was rolling my eyes.  Of course it’s the first day of spring!  That’s obvious. It was all of 27 degrees at my house this morning,  pretty much the same temperature it was yesterday and the day before.  It’s pouring down rain, or sometimes snow, as it’s done for the past week.  The daffodils have buds but are afraid to open and my spring peepers  are pretty quiet waiting for some above-freezing temperatures.  Of course it’s the first day of spring. At least that’s the word according to the news.

I think the real news is that there’s hope.  This cold and rain can’t last forever.  Can it?

Encyclopedia Books–The End of an Era

“The Encyclopaedia Britannica, which has been in continuous print since it was first published in Edinburgh, Scotland, in 1768, said Tuesday it will end publication of its printed editions and continue with versions available online.”

My parents didn’t own a set of encyclopedias.  Probably because they were an expensive item that was seldom needed.  But on those occasions when I had a paper to write about the history of the world,  or the life cycle of  butterflies, or the origin of the letter Q, where was I to look?  I needed an encyclopedia.

It was at those times that I believed my family was poor.  Too poor to buy an essential like an encyclopedia.  Mom and dad said we could ask the neighbors across the street if we could use their encyclopedias.  Those neighbors’ kids were grown and gone.  Why did they even have a set of encyclopedias?  Clearly they were so rich they could own a set of encyclopedias when they didn’t even have kids who needed them.

I was too shy to bother them with my homework needs so off to the library I went.  It was at such times that I vowed that my kids would have a set of encyclopedias in my house.

Of course, I didn’t keep that vow.  Because encyclopedias were an expensive item that was seldom needed.  And when it was needed we could go to the library.

But the point is, encyclopedias were a staple of life, even if seldom used.  If you wanted to get the facts, and if you wanted to get a good grade on your essay paper, an encyclopedia was a necessity.  Many hours of my young life were spent in libraries with an encyclopedia spread out on the table.

And now it is a matter of history.  Replaced with instant information via the computer, or better and more instant yet, on your phone.

I never really liked encyclopedias. They mostly meant work.  But I will miss them.  It’s another sign of the end of my childhood world.

Today is the Special Day

On one of our recent snow days, being suddenly home bound and therefore with no pre-existing plans, I went to the kitchen and took my frustrations out on the clutter.  In the far right  cupboard, next to the “good” dishes and goblets, the silver sat patiently waiting for its moment to shine. It almost made me weep. Those beautiful pieces, all of them gifts from loved ones, have been sitting there for years, now covered in dust and tarnish.  I felt so sorry for them that I pulled them out, applied some elbow grease and moved a couple of them to the “ordinary” dish cupboard.

And my plan worked. While pulling out casserole and serving dishes on a recent weekend when both daughters were home, I saw that beautiful piece and was reminded to put it to work. Our daughters, both in their twenties, don’t recall ever having seen these pieces.  What have I been saving them for?

Regina Brett in her book,  50 Timeless Life Lessons hit me where it hurts.  “Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don’t save it for a special occasion. Today is special.”

So my new motto is taking shape.  Use it or toss it.  If I can’t be put to its original use, I need to find a new one.  If I can’t find any use for it I need to consider tossing it or giving it away.  Oooh, that hurts…

Shopping for Blue Heels

I want a pair of blue heels.  A sensible 2 inch heel with a closed toe.

When I was a kid, usually in the fall right before the beginning of school, mom would load us kids into the car and off we’d go to the shoe store for new school shoes. We’d peruse the choices, then climb onto the bench, our legs dangling uncomfortably off the edge and wait to be waited on. After a bit the poor shoe salesman would pull up his stool, pick up my stinky right foot and place it on his foot measuring apparatus.  He’d then hurry off to the back room, which I hope was filled with sweet smells,  find the pair of shoes I wanted, in the size indicated by his measurements, and return to my stinky feet.  He’d then go through the whole process again, tucking my  feet into the chosen shoes, then set me free to try them out.  In thinking back on these poor people I sure hope they did all of this without breathing in.

This ritual still goes on in some shoe stores. But not the ones I frequent.  And I’m glad for that,  for my sake, as well as for the poor shoe salespeople’s sake.  I no longer want anyone fiddling with my feet nor do I want to subject any more people to the smell of my feet which I’m sure is awful in spite of the fact that I showered and put on clean socks just a few hours ago.

And all of this comes to mind because I have been looking for a pair of blue dress shoes,  with a reasonable 2 inch heal, and closed-toe.  I have the open-toe blue heels.  I want closed-toe heels.  And I can’t find them.  Not last fall, not during the winter, not this spring. Not in the stores where people don’t fiddle with my feet.

So if you see a “woman of a certain age”  out and about who is dressed nicely in an outfit that would look fabulous with 2 inch, closed-toe blue heels, but she’s wearing black heels or white heels or even open-toed blue heels, please know that I’ve tried but I can’t find the closed-toe blue heels.

Happy shoe shopping.

Chicken Races

Well,  hubby didn’t jump at the chance to start building a chicken tractorfor our  chickens probably because he had some other pressing chores to attend to the most important being not building a chicken tractor.  Of course, I’m a bit disappointed.  I’d had hopes of the chickens helping to earn their keep by doing more than laying the occasional egg.  I’d envisioned them driving their tractor around, picking up limbs from trees, moving chicken manure to the compost pile,  and such.

For now I’ll have to be content with gathering the few eggs my hens lay and watching them hoof-it, or rather “claw-it” around the yard  doing their free-range gig.  Then again,  if I get bored I can always toss  a piece of toast to my “girls” and watch the chicken races begin.  They may not be very bright but they can be entertaining.

Build a Chicken Tractor

I was thinking this spring may be the end of my “chicken phase.”  Then I saw the article “Build a Chicken Tractor.”

We got our first chickens 9 years ago when we moved to the country.  Every year I would  lose a few hens to coyotes and then I would add a few chicks or take in someone’s strays. But this past year I just lost, I didn’t add.  I’m down to 6 hens and I was thinking I may not add any this year either.  I’ll just take care of the few I have and when they’re gone, they’re gone.

Then I saw this title in the March/April issue of Hobby Farm: “Build a Chicken Tractor.”  And now I’m thinking I may add chickens this year.  The directions and the list of materials for building your own chicken tractor are included in this issue of the magazine.  And my husband can build it.

Just think of the possibilities!  We can put these hens to work, driving their little tractor around, helping with the yard work, keeping the place clean.  Yup, definitely possibilities.

This One Has a Face

I’m eavesdropping on a fellow library user.  Not by choice, you must believe me.  I can’t help it.  The speaker is just over there, trying to be discreet on his blue-tooth phone but it’s hard to be discreet when you’re talking in the library.

This one has a face! my fellow library user exclaimed in the whispered-yell of a person trying to be discreet while broadcasting his one-way conversation over his blue-tooth phone when he’s in the library.

Keep talking,  I wanted to say.  What has a face?  What is it?  Don’t leave me hanging.  I want to know what it is that so excites you because it has a face.

Alas, the conversation is over and I don’t know what it is that has a face.  But it made me think of homeless people and innocent hurting children and victims of crimes.  We hear about them, read about them, pass by them on the street, sometimes work with them and attend church with them but we don’t really see them.  They are images, statistics, beings that aren’t real to us because they don’t have a face.

Maybe he saw one that has a face.  Maybe I’ll see one that has a face.  Maybe I’ll pay attention.