Rushing the Season

Christmas+too+early

When growing up, the summers felt long and drawn out.  Those warm, sticky months of school vacation felt like they would never end.  You spent long, lazy days being outdoors from morning until night, often only coming home for meals and then rushing back outside again to meet back up with your pals.  You spent your days peddling your bikes up to the near-by strip malls to wander through the five and dimes with your friends.  Or, swimming at the neighborhood public pools.  Usually riding your Schwinn bike with the banana seat there or walking barefoot on the heated sidewalks.  Your pool towel draped over your shoulders and your swimming cap, pool pass and flip-flops in hand.  Time felt as though it stood still.

As an adult, you see the summer months differently.  They’re hectic and busy.  The laundry loads seem to quadruple.  The fridge is always bare.  There’s more activity and traffic throughout your home.  But, you love everyone being around and the true gift of having no routine or busy schedules.  One day you head to the grocery store at what you consider to be the beginning of summer.  You’re doing your weekly shopping and you suddenly notice the signs on the seasonal aisle have changed from “welcome summer” to “back to school.”   And, It’s only the second week of July!  The 4th of July has barely become a memory and all of a sudden you are bombarded with back to school specials.  Good grief!  Talk about rushing the season.

You walk through a department store in June and the fall clothes are out.  You walk through that same store in September and the Christmas trees are up.  If you want to purchase a new outfit that is seasonal, good luck!  You have to think ahead 3-6 months to be prepared for the season that’s around the corner. I was walking through one of my favorite stores in July looking for something summery to wear and the winter coats and sweaters were on display.  It was the heat of the day. It felt like an oven outside. Between those unbearable temperatures and being in menopause, I immediately started to sweat just looking at all that wool.  It was summer for goodness sake.  Where were the shorts and t-shirts!

When did rushing the season become so trendy?  Has it always been that way?  As a kid in the 70’s, did we just not notice it because we were outside from morning until night?  Material goods didn’t seem to matter as much back then.  Retailers didn’t seem to push their goods on us so hard.  The pressure on the consumer to buy, buy, buy seemed to be non-existent.

Or, was it?  Interpretation of the seasons through the eyes of children are much different than adults.  As kids, we savored each moment and lived in the present.  We didn’t think ahead to what we would be doing or what we needed to have three or four months ahead of time.  It was simple.  Live each day as it comes.  Enjoy each moment.  Even tho time seemed to stand still as we were growing up, it wasn’t.  Time flies.  Why rush it?  It goes fast enough on its own.

New+York+in+The+1960's+-+70's+(2)


Postscript:

Throughout the long lazy days and weeks of my summer hiatus from BeingMargaret, I created several blog outlines to be finished and published at later dates.  This post was one of those drafts.  At the time of publication – this morning – while drinking coffee, writing and enjoying the quiet peacefulness of my house, the loud sounds coming from outside the front window of my abode did not fall on deaf ears.  At first I reacted to it as normal background noise, not really paying much attention to it.  Then I heard the same oddly familiar sound several times again.  I got up and walked over to the window.  Pulling back the drapes and looking out, my jaw dropped open.  I saw the tell-tale sign of the end of summer.  The big, yellow school buses were rolling down the street and past my home.

Good Grief!  Where did summer go?  How could it be that students all over the country were back in school already?  It wasn’t even officially the middle of August yet.  I tried to think back to the time when I was in school.  Didn’t we always go back after Labor Day?  Wasn’t that holiday the official end of summer?  How could it be that schools now started 1 or 2 weeks into August?  It felt so, so…wrong.  So rushed.

And just like that – in the blink of an eye – that familiar, bittersweet ‘change of seasons’ feeling came over me.  A topic that deserves a blog post of its own because I just know we can all relate to that.  (stay tuned!!)

We have turned into a society that rushes through the events of our lives.  Even the beginning of the school year for students everywhere seems to arrive prematurely.  Maybe we should all just take a step back, meditate on the important things in life and slowwww dowwwwn.  Time Flies.  Let’s not help it along.


 Ferris

 Untitled-1

Welcome October!!

October could possibly be the best month of the year!

Yep, Anne said it best!!

Anne


But if she doesn’t convince you ~ maybe some of these Autumn favorites will!!

 

 

October collage

 

Welcome October!!

                                                                                                                                    

UnitedStatesNewYorkNewYorkCityCentralParkMallAreaD_102711

What’s Your Favorite Month??

 

Until death do us part

cropped-anothertry-copy1 copy

 


 

It’s Tuesday morning.  It’s been my norm for years and years to get up early.  Very early.  Usually between 4:30 – 5am.  Since I decided to retire early – last December – I’ve gotten into the habit of sleeping in late.  Well, late for me.  I usually wake up around 7am.  This was alarming to me at first.  I felt shame and guilt.  I felt lazy.  As my Mom used to say to me, “half the day is gone!”  It must be an Irish thing.  She used to get up early.  For as long as I can remember, she was up before the sunrise.   She would have half of her housework done by 7am.  But, I’ve gotten used to the luxury of sleeping in “late.”

So, its morning.  I’m having coffee.  I’m sitting at my kitchen counter and looking at a blank, white screen in front of my sleepy eyes.  My blog is calling to me. It pulls me in.  But for the past few months I’ve had a sort of writers block.  Clark says I’m forcing it – that when I’m ready to write again, it will come naturally.  Like it always has.  And, he’s right.

Brian – my youngest son – has said to me in the past that when I don’t have anything to write about, perhaps it’s because I have not been doing anything “write worthy”.  He’s observant.  I believe this to be the case of my self-proclaimed block.

 

writers-block078

 

I could chalk it up to the transition of summer into fall if I really needed a scapegoat.  The changing of the seasons.  The fault could be laid at the heels of that happy sad place we find ourselves in when saying goodbye to one season and welcoming in the next.  I always feel a little bit melancholy as the seasons change.   And when I’m melancholy, I tend to take a break from writing.  Oh, the changing seasons is a cycle of life that I love – one that I really do not think I could live without witnessing year in and out, but still, it’s a constant reminder of how fast time goes.  The seasons speed by.  You blink your eyes and time flies.  Really, it would be unusual to go through an entire Summer without hearing at least a dozen times…that old familiar phrase..”I can’t believe the Summer is almost over!”  And it’s true.  It’s always a shock to see how fast it went by and how the next season has miraculously arrived without you noticing that it snuck up on you.

But, there it is.  Fresh and new.  A new beginning. A new cycle.  A new Season.   A fresh start.  With all the promise and excitement of what lies ahead for you.  New resolutions. New untapped energy.  Come on New Season…I’m ready!

 

Seasons Change

 

However, If I am going to be honest, my writer’s block could most likely be chalked up to the Clark Factor.  My better half tends to be around the house more than he used to be.  Right now he is upstairs snoozing.  He took the day off.  In all honesty, he takes a lot of time off of work these days.  He is somewhat semi retired.  He usually golf’s on the days he is not working, but I had a mini empty-Nester melt down last week and accused him of not wanting to spend time with me.  Suddenly, this week he decided to spend his time off with me rather than hitting the links with his golf buddies.  Coincidence?  Nah, I don’t think so.  But, I didn’t fight it.  I decided to soak in the attention and enjoy spending some quality one on one time with my Hubs!  YaY!!

Booo!!  By noon on the first day that we spent together,  I was wondering what in the world I was thinking when I practically bullied him into spending his day off with me rather than the guys.  In theory, I was going to love having him around!!  Hurray!! Us time!!   In reality, it didn’t quite work out that way.  He was in my space.  All.Day.Long.  It’s not that he was actually doing anything wrong – I just had not realized how much I liked my days to myself and my routine kept in place.  I didn’t want to spend my day running to the hardware store with him.  Or, dropping him off at the car dealership to get his car looked at.  I didn’t want to eat lunch at 10:30am or watch the financial station on TV all morning.  Or worse yet, watch golf on TV.  And, when we went to the grocery store together, it took some getting used to watching him plow the cart down the center of the aisle and getting into some sort of freakish road rage event with the other shoppers.  *Holy Cow!!*

By 3pm that day, I started to suspect that he was purposely trying to tick me off so I would beg him to please.. please, for the sake of our marriage…go golfing!!!  And, I did.  I told him to go golf with his friends.  He was happier,  I was happier.  I realized that having him around gave me an odd sense of feeling all out of whack.

Slowly (and Thank Goodness!!)  eventually he reverted back to his old ways.  I once again became a (happy) golf widow.  And more importantly, I was able to write again.  He still hangs around somewhat in the early mornings before he heads out for his day with the guys, but that’s a compromise I can live with. 

So now, these days when I am happily alone at home and carrying on with my usual routine, I wonder about what full retirement will be like.  How do retiree’s do it?  How do they learn to live together all day long without driving each other crazy??  Is it something that simply takes getting used to?  And if so, how long is the transition period?

I Love My Hubs!!  He’s my better half and my soul-mate and for better or worse, he’s my best friend!!  Until Death Do us part!!!  But, I pull my hair out when he’s around all day.  I feel like I’m losing my ever-lovin’ mind!!  I can not be the only one who goes nuts when your loved one suddenly decides to spend the day with you.  Can I?


 

 

il_340x270.567780400_s1xw

mother nature

15260_574957839204872_1226442295_nIt’s been a little over a week since I’ve been sprung from my cell and allowed to once again be outdoors and among people.  I can enjoy the sunshine!   I can now start enjoying spring!  Except ~ spring is hiding. It snowed the other day.  And then we had a monsoon for about a week.  Then more snow.

I’ve noticed that the bad weather has affected people’s moods.  They walk around complaining.  They walk around with a look of aggravation and disappointment on their faces as if they had never seen a bad spring before.  It makes me wonder how their dispositions would be if they had just spent the past 2 weeks in prison, like Moi!   But I digress….

I didn’t care!  I was free!  I was going to go out and enjoy my freedom!  I talked Clark into going to the store and looking at some new patio furniture.  He reluctantly agreed.  So we grabbed our winter coats and hats and an umbrella for good measure and off we went!!

We pulled into the parking lot of the local patio furniture store.  It looked abandoned.  Where was everyone?  Didn’t they know it was spring?  We got a good parking space almost in the first spot of the row!  I took this as a good sign.  Yes, this was a good way to start my freedom!  If I closed my eyes and blocked out the fact that the snow was coming down in mid April, I could almost visualize myself sitting on my back porch on a new patio chair.  Feet propped up on an ottoman.  Waving to the neighbors!!  Maybe even with a fruity summer drink in my hand.

We walked in and headed toward our destination.  Patio conversation groups.   From across the showroom floor, there was one that immediately caught my eye.  We walked over to it.  It was perfect.  We tested it out and liked that it felt sturdy.  Clark was surprised at how quickly I picked one out.  Typically when making a big purchase, it takes me a long time to research.  I want the best deal!  We were in and out fast.  The new set would be delivered to our home the next week  Hurray!

6002253-delivery-man-or-mover-pushing-a-dolly-loaded-with-boxes-up-the-front-walkOK, confession time.  I had been secretly looking online at new sets for the past couple of months.   I had actually been doing a lot of online shopping while going through treatments and in isolation.  It was a great way to pass the time!  I had gotten used to weekly deliveries.  My ears became in-tuned to the UPS and FED EX truck barreling down the street.   From my bedroom, I could hear the sounds of the large truck rounding the corner near my house.  The sound of squeaking breaks and a large vehicle coming to a stop in front of my house was like music to my ears.

I’d wait for the doorbell to ring and moments later the engine of the truck would spark back to life and away it would go.  The delivery man was on to his next destination.  I was on my way down the stairs to open the front door.  I had the orchestration down beautifully!!   I’d open the door and drag in whatever new parcel was left for that day.  Joy!

The day the Patio set came was a particularly frigid spring day.  It was a Saturday and Bruce was home.  We opened the large box and there inside was our new set.  In about fifty pieces.  Hmmm.  OK,  an afternoon project!  This was going to require tools.  And patience.

We sat in our garage to put it together that day,  well,  because it was snowing outside.  It took most of the afternoon.  Clark and I work together like a well oiled machine.  He points to tools.  I bring them to him and every once in a while tell him what a fab job he’s doing.  He likes to put on a good show.  Straining loudly when a particular part of the assembly is challenging.  I encourage him and tell him he is brilliant!

All in all we enjoy being together and working on projects.  He always takes the part of project manager.  I am the lovely assistant.  This day was no different.  The set came together nicely.  Success!  No extra parts.  Now we just need some spring weather.

As I sit in my kitchen this morning looking out the window at the wintery~spring weather, I wonder how much longer these unseasonably cold tempts are going to last.  In the grand scheme of things, it really does not matter.  Spring will come.  Warm tempts will follow.  My new patio set will eventually make its way from our garage to its new home on the back porch.

Mother Nature has a way of keeping us all on our toes ~ of letting us know who the boss is.  And I, for one, would have it no other way.  Patience is a virtue.  The new season always eventually rolls around the corner.    That’s the beauty of living in a part of the country where the seasons change.  Just when you think you can’t take anymore, you are blessed with a spring morning that you are sure is the most gorgeous one you’ve ever seen.

And before you know it, everyone will be walking around with looks of aggravation on their faces because it’s just too hot outside to do anything.  And the cycle starts all over again.  Go Mother Nature!  Show us who’s boss!