None the Wiser

Nothing to say on the writing front today, but maybe I should follow up on that last post. Six days and three ladies later, I doubt there's a taker in the lot. The principle viewer of our superior community, after finding minor faults with some things that can't be changed (like dining room hours) and some that can (like artificial leaves as part of the mantel decoration) seemed unlikely to be content in any residence that doesn't have unlimited variations in routine and policies. In other words, no place I know of. Then just before departure she surprised me by saying she was favorably impressed, and will consider us--in a few years. After almost a week of lodging and a meal a day (if she and her friends were here to partake), I was not pleased.  Imagine how our Marketing Director feels. A while back, we had a couple who actually spent two full weeks here, demanding a lot of special attention and information, and not just one meal a day, only to depart after letting everyone know that they intended to go to Florida--from day one. They were just "checking" other possibilities. In a store that would amount to shoplifting, wouldn't it?

The older I get, the more amazed I am at what I grew up calling chutzpah. (Sometimes Yiddish has no English equivalent.) It's the kind of nerve that an observer knows immediately is fully understood by the perpetrator as dishonest at worst, and doubtful ethically at best.

So now we go back to the ordinary business of preparing for a winter that seems likely never to materialize. Yes, cool nights, but daytimes at temperatures associated with June or July. If I ever get fall pansies to put in, I don't know if I'll be fighting the dratted hose every other day to keep them watered so they'll still be here in December! Climate change? After fewer than fifteen years here, I don't know yet.

So the next chore is to email my publisher to get at least a statement on royalties (?) I'm scared I've heard nothing because there aren't any to report.

It's another perfect autumn day, though with high cloud beginning to show. Carpe diem is the order of the day--as it's apt to be when you're my age!

Seasons

A glance at the calendar at this time of year is never necessary to know we're coming to an end of some kind. Autumnn is always beautiful, and for many, the favorite season. I can understand why, but not for me.

The beginning of school when I was a child has nothing to do with it because I looked forward to that. The feeling comes from so far back, I don't believe the symbolic connections influence my emotions. Perhaps those who understand "spiritual" matter might be able to explain. It's a sad time. Like so much that is most poignant, the very loveliness of the sensual world emphasizes the melancholy that underlies every day until the trees are bare and the first frost has browned the grass.

This is the season I tend to try to write poetry. Common adolescent hangover, I'm sure. This is the season when I need to be tied to the mast like Ulysses to keep me from spending a fortune on spring bulbs that I will later curse because I dislike the planting so much. Oh, and did I mention, this is the season of my husband's and my birthdays? After so many of those, you'd think I'd be over that by now!