About
a month ago Terry and I were working on some things for the house.
As we assembled a shopping list of sorts, it occurred to us that
we likely should check out a few stores right away… before the
Memorial Day Weekend ended (and with the arrival of Tuesday morning,
possibly brought to a close more than a handful of sales).
Since
that time, it seems like we might not have been risking all that
much with our timing. Mother’s Day becomes Memorial Day… Memorial
Day becomes Father’s Day… Father’s Day becomes July 4th… the transition
moves right along, with celebrations for each at stores theming
things accordingly to unite the holiday with patriotic, motherly,
and other assorted discounts.
Days
change. Weeks pass. Months move along. Sales continue. Only the
theme is different. Time passes in the strangest of ways.
To
this day, for me, the year begins at Labor Day.
It’s
a school thing. From the nursery school and kindergarten days
to the college experience, the year always began right around
Labor Day. Absolutely, celebrate the New Year with a school break.
Maybe some onion dip. The real change of a year for me always
connected with the advancing from one grade to the next. That
was a transition. Certainly more of a noticeable transition than
going to bed in one year and waking up in the next.
The
experiences moved from my own classroom days into driving the
kids to school and dropping them off at their dorm rooms.
Seems
like a constant cycle of sorts. Whether your experiences of youth
being relived in the footsteps of your children or with the turnover
of calendar dates. In big ways and small, time moves along, and
the more things change… well… you know.
A
few years ago, I was prepping to head outside and put up a snow
fence for the first time. I had the fencing but wanted to get
a few posts. Nothing for permanent installation, but the heavier
of versions that I have seen called u-post and t-post styles.
Something that could handle a heavy fence and strong winds during
a cold and blustery winter run.
I
walked into my neighborhood location of a national chain store
and couldn’t find the posts. So, I asked. Turns out that such
fence posts are considered a seasonal item. Spring-summer seasonal.
Not November seasonal.
Didn’t
matter that dozens and dozens of my neighbors put up similar winter
fencing with similar posts every year in November. And, it was
explained to me, the store would get in trouble with the corporate
office for wasting inventory storage space on what had been identified
as a seasonal item.
This
wasn’t the only store that provided such an answer.
This
serves for me as just one of many perfect examples for why time
makes no sense.
Do
you use things for reasons far beyond what they are normally paired
with? Here’s what I mean… I usually bring a snow shovel out with
me when I’m raking leaves. One of those toward the inexpensive,
flat surface snow shovels. Turns out, while lacking a bit in several
ways as a snow tool, it’s perfect in a dust-pan kind of way. Use
it with the rake, scoop into a wheelbarrow, done.
How
many days in how many years have I actually spent raking leaves?
Seems like dozens upon dozens upon hundreds. At my childhood home.
At my grandparents’ houses. At my homes. But it really wouldn’t
be more than a handful each year. It definitely isn’t the thousands
of days it feels like.
There
are a variety of reasons why I look toward the calendar. I may
not have to check it out for school schedules these days. I do
consider when to plant the garden and if it’s time to break out
the snow fence. But the weirdest part of all is how time stands
still and flies by at the same time. It’s like being in a car
on the highway… with some things seeming perfectly still while
the miles are quickly chewed up and put in the rearview mirror.
I
may not enjoy breaking out the rake and shovel. I definitely need
to learn to appreciate it a bit more when I do.