Just ask anybody!

They will tell you there are two day out of the whole year about which my whole world revolves. Each of these days I anticipate and prepare for...excitement growing.  One I love and one I hate (yes, I know hate is a very extreme word)...okay, okay, one I dislike.

For a lot of years I thought I was the only one emotionally attached to these two days so I sort of kept my feelings about them to myself.  I do a lot of peering out the windows of my home secretly hoping I can prevent one of them from ever happening, while wishing the other could happen sooner.  I tell ya' my life's been a roller coaster ride. Then a couple of years back these days came up in a conversation I had with one of my daughters and found out she had a...a...a...thing about these two days as well.  I was taken aback.  Whew, it felt good to talk about it.

There are plenty of signs these days are coming, matter of fact they are both imprinted on the calendars I buy each year.  So you see, they do not come as a surprise.  Of course I'm talking about the Summer and Winter Solstice.  I hate...'er dislike the summer one and can't wait until the winter one arrives.  Guess what?

The other day I was pondering and gazing out my window as twilight approached around the 5 O'clock hour when it hit me...Wasn't it just about time for the Winter Solstice?

My heart began to race, my hands began to sweat and I almost fell over Zorro in my haste to get to my calendar.  I flipped the page over to December and checked the date it clearly showed the magical day was on the 22nd.  I turned the page back to November and began to count.  At the time the number was 40...it's even less today.  Whoop, whoop.

So be prepared because on that day I'm going to be doing my hippity, happity, giggity, diggity dance. And the climb begins back to the second day of the year that I'm not quite so crazy about; there's never any dancing on that day.

So,

I'm washing potatoes and happen to say to nobody in particular.  "I wonder why people used to say it was okay to eat a peck of dirt a year?"

Frankie rolls her eyes, "You mean in 'olden' days?"

I smile broadly knowing I've got her hooked into a conversation.  "If you say so."

She puts her elbows on the kitchen counter and leans in to inspect the potatoes nestled into the bottom of the pot.  "You missed a spot."

"Think about it Frankie. I had an Aunt that swore it was okay to eat a peck of dirt a year and we would go pluck a radish from the garden, rub some of the dirt off on our sleeve and give that thing a darn good chomp.  Today, I don't think I would be willing to do that."

"Okay," Frankie sighs deeply, "just why is that?"

I clear my throat ready to pontificate.

"I think dirt was cleaner in 'olden days'."

Frankie loses it practically rolling on the floor.  "Cleaner dirt...baaa, haaa, haaa, gasp, giggle, giggle...cleaner dirt...gasp, gasp."

"No, seriously.  Think about it.  When America was but a babe the soil was virgin, mostly untouched by human beings.  Oh sure, animals did their business here and there but mostly the soil was clean and pure."  

Suddenly Frankie shows an interest.

"Then for a long time we continued to take care of the land, tilling it, planting crops then harvesting them.  We even learned to rotate crops so we didn't drain the soil of valuable nutrients."

Frankie:  "I sense an 'oh then' moment coming."

"You're right, and then the population grew and we needed more food to feed it.  In order for that to happen science got involved, fertilizers were concocted and crops grew better, but at the same time the soil was being...for lack of a better word...contaminated."

Frankie grimaces.

Me:  (I know I'm on a roll.)  "Oh, now imagine this...science then decided to add stuff to the seeds in order to grow better corn, tomatoes...everything.  Sure we got better harvests and that's a good thing, right?  But now I'm not so sure I would want to go into a garden pluck a radish, rub it against the sleeve of my shirt and eat it unwashed."    

Frankie remains quiet, but I can tell she's pondering.  I think I've given her food for thought.

I'm pondering too, about the good old 'olden days' when I could go out to my dad's garden and pluck a radish to eat.  Maybe that's what's wrong with me; it's been a long time since I've eaten a peck of dirt a year.

I go back to washing the potatoes.

Where does the time go?

Seriously, somebody please tell me, where does the time go?

I've been meaning to write but somehow 'stuff' keeps getting in the way.  First, I spent one day boxing up what I call my October (fall) decorations and dragged them to the garage.  Then (same day) I drug in the boxes containing all my Thanksgiving decorations setting them up all around the apartment.  This 'exchange' job takes longer now because my garage is not attached to my apartment which requires me to trek back and forth, back and forth from here to there, there to here. I purposely didn't exercise that day because I knew I'd be getting plenty not only with the walking but the schlepping of boxes as well.  Whew!

Then there was the day I did laundry.  Now, don't get me wrong, I do like my new washer and dryer and the fact they tinkle a little tune when each load has been completed.  I even like the little tune when I open the lid to extract the clothes within.  However (picture me clearing my throat) I do NOT like the length of time it now takes to complete this particular weekly chore.  You see, these appliances think for themselves and while the cycles are 'doing their thing' they will occasionally re-adjust the time. When the load starts the machine clock might say it 'thinks' the load might take an hour, so I walk away to spend the time doing something else. When I walk past the machine I glance at its clock to find that before my very eyes a few minutes have been added to the cycle.  At first this annoyed me I thought something might be wrong with the machine so I dragged out the instruction manual. It informed me this is to be expected and not to worry.

Now we'll talk about the dryer.  After a couple of weeks I discovered a load does not completely dry especially the towels and the waistbands of my sweat pants.  Again I dragged out the instruction book and found I can push a spot on the electronic panel (there are no buttons anymore) to add minutes to the cycle in order to completely dry the clothes.  It seems (so far) the drying process per load takes an hour or more....geeze.

I was not going to buy the extended maintenance policy for five years, but thought better of it. Considering how 'high tech' these machines are I figured if I got the policy they would hummm along for at least that long without causing me much trouble, after which, considering how things are made these days they will probably 'give up the ghost' anyway.

So, the above took up two of the days since I last I wrote.  Then there was the day my granddaughter came to visit which was fun filled and full of action.   Plus there were the days I tried to work from 8 till noon making cards for friends and making new merchandise designs for my store.  In between I'm squeezing in exercising, walking the dog, trying to read, studying, planting bulbs for spring blooms, and sweeping oak leaves off my patios.  Again...WHEW!

No wonder I don't have time to write...I'm exhausted...it's only 9:50 in the morning but I think I need a nap.