Monday, April 29, 2019
Changing of the Seasons
It must be spring everywhere by now. I am paying attention because of the birds. Seriously. I've never marked the seasons by the passage of birds and butterflies before, but now I do. The buntings have gone, and I miss them. There are now more crows and bluejays, big, loud, things, not like the delicate, secretive buntings. The cardinals have paired and the monarchs have laid their eggs. Late yesterday afternoon, Ili noticed that the milkweed plant had been denuded. She found three large caterpillars hanging from the stem, fat things looking ready to make cocoons. We hope to see another chrysalis hatch. Another "Chrissy."
That is how I spend my time of late. But summer is coming and sitting outside will soon not be comfortable, at least on my deck. The heat will come, then the humidity, and the skies will grow a dead tin gray. This weekend, though, I realized that this will be the last summer I need to spend here. I will be free to go wherever I like, free to follow the weather as I have always dreamed.
It scares me. Funny, huh? Yup. My life is going to radically change and not much will be the same again. How is that not a little scary?
Not that it is not thrilling, too. There is just much uncertainty.
Especially financially. I'll never make this much money again.
I prepare. I'll drink Schlitz and eat grains bought in bulk. And peanut butter. There will be much peanut butter.
And I will watch the seasons that I have left.
Blah! All this morbid talk. I am doing fine. I eat grains and vegetables and fish at most dinners now. Heart and gut healthy. I should live to be 100.
One of my all-time favorite jokes. An old guy is sitting at a bar next to a pretty woman. He buys her a drink and they begin to chat. After a while, he says, "Why don't you come home with me. We can have drinks and hors d'oeuvres, and then we can make love. You know, older men can make love much longer than younger men do." She looked at him for a moment and giggled. "Sure, I know that," she says, "but who wants to make love to an old man for a long time?"
Some things get less funny over time.
Posted by cafe selavy at 1:30 PM