February 5, 2025
One of the things I like best about the entire hoopla
surrounding Groundhog Day—the actual day and not the movie—is how this
observance is big enough to allow for any and all interpretations.
I have to admit that this year it snuck up on me. Yes,
I know that it’s always on the second day of February. But for some reason I
never gave it a single thought until the day before, and only then because
someone mentioned that the next day was that day.
One can always use the occasion of Groundhog Day to
underscore whichever interpretation one chooses. Because I don’t see much
difference between “six more weeks of winter” and “an early spring”.
Six weeks from February 2 lands us on March 16. Spring
arrives (according to the calendar) on March 20 at 5:01am. Which is four days later
than the “6 more weeks”, thus making the 16th an early spring.
I rest my case.
I continue my personal reorganization, and sadly, it’s
taking a lot more time and effort than I would like. Focus is not a state of
being that I arrive at naturally anymore. Maybe I never did. Golly, I’m sure I
remember a time not all that long ago when I could keep those five or six balls
in the air without even breaking a sweat. Now I can manage one, if I don’t toss
it too high into the air.
I think I finally appreciate that saying, “the good
old days”.
I’m working on figuring out the ins and outs of this
new computer. Getting a new one was inevitable, since my previous one used Windows
10 and the powers that be decreed that they would no longer support that system
beyond this coming October.
I understand the concept of planned obsolescence. I
believe in Capitalism, and in the freedom of folks to make things and do things
and in letting the marketplace work for them. Unfortunately, there’s a kind of
planned obsolescence happening in my brain. I hope to be able to master the
tasks the way that I need to in order to get my own work done.
I think only time will tell with that one—and Time is
not necessarily the hero of this story.
Our youngest grandson turned twenty-three, and we
gathered at a local restaurant this past Monday to enjoy a meal in celebration
of that event. It was a very enjoyable occasion. His mother—our second daughter—bought
him a birthday cake, which she brought to the restaurant. It was chocolate,
which he dearly wanted. And decorated in the “Hello Kitty” style which is how
she rolls with her “man child.”
There was a bit of a tussle between him and his five-year-old
niece over the rights to those pretty plastic decorated pieces. Our grandson
told her she could play with them—but they were his because this was a
celebration of his birthday.
Monday was an interesting day, all the way around. It
started out with an ice and snow situation involving our sidewalk and walkway that
kept me from venturing out for an early afternoon appointment, as I was planning to venture out on my own. I wondered if we
would make it out for our family dinner. But help came in good time to resolve the
issue, and we did.
Like I said, we’re older now and getting even more so
with each passing day. On a positive
note, though, I certainly understand why some elderly folk can become a bit
crotchety.
And I’d like to take this opportunity to sincerely
apologize to any senior citizens I may had treated unfairly back in the day—even
if I did so only in my thoughts.
I can honestly promise that’s not a mistake I will ever
repeat in the future.
Love,
Morgan
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
