Daylight Saving Time (DST)...tick, tick, tick...
Did you remember to turn your clocks back yesterday? Did you wake up this morning, like I did and look at the clock that glared 7:10 am and think how lucky I was to eek out an extra hour of sleep knowing full well I went to bed at 11:00 pm -midnight my real body time (rbt)? After a few days of trying to figure out what my real body time would be if I didn't change the clocks, I surrender to change. Daylight Saving (no "s" at the end of "Saving" is the correct usage) Time (DST) is a perfect example of an international event that is treated as a non-event, yet everyone has a Daylight Saving Time's story. DST impacts all areas of life from the political to the litigious, from the economic to the environmental, and from death to life. It just shows that any change, particularly as it relates to time, does not go unnoticed.
I got a chuckle last night when my son came up to me and assuredly stated that his body had already adjusted to Daylight Saving Time. Implying as if he was miraculously cured from some mysterious ill-fated disease. I reminded him that it had not even been 24 hours and his body had no way of knowing what it had to get used to, and to give it a few days and then we would see. And, by the way, "Yes, he would have to go to bed earlier and could not stay up to watch Sunday Night Football this particular Sunday."
How is it that it took until my 30s to finally get a catch-phrase to remember which way to turn the clocks: in the fall, the time "falls back", and in the spring, "spring ahead". Fall or spring, there is always some give and get. In the fall, it is the extra hour we get back in the morning which is the only consolation for the darker and colder days and nights. Likewise, in the spring, I have no problem giving up one of my precious hours of sleep knowing each day is one day closer to spring, to sunshine, the warmth, to green. Remember: tempus fugit whether one is "falling" or "springing." In the end, it's inevitable: time keeps ticking so don't waste a minute more of your day.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Monday, April 5, 2010
So Even Mother Earth Appears to Ovulate
So even Mother Earth appears to ovulate. With a few days worth of sunshine ahead of me and an hour to work in my garden, I thought it was the perfect time to throw down my organic compost (still not able to get over the manure smell) and start planting my lettuce and chard seeds. All the conditions were right. Fertile soil, bright sunshine, and seeds.
And just because I am one of those people who likes to learn as much about something before I do it or go see it, I jumped onto my computer and googled "farmers guide to planting." Lo! and behold, according to the lunar calendar for the entire month of April and May, each day is outlined for which seeds to plant for each desired crop. I immediately checked out April 5 and it read: "Barren Day. DO NO PLANTING." This obviously meant: avoid planting at all cost or I may be hexed. This was as close to religious dogma as one could get. Well, being a good Catholic, I did not plant, needless to say. I was stopped in my tracks, or dare I say row. There was no way I was going to put anything in that hallowed ground, groomed, watered and organic or not-well, at least for another 24 hours.
The closest thing I have to a green thumb is the dirt under my finger nails. I was not about to take on Mother Earth, and if her time clock said she was ovulating pretty much every day in April except for, and explicitly on April 5, then there was no way I was putting any seed in my garden today. I believe the only seed that could possibly have survived if planted today could only survive, God willing, via the immaculate conception. My seeds could wait one more day.
Only my sister, Kim, who happened to plant her seeds today (I would never dare tell her), could have any chance in heaven that her seeds will sprout (if you are going along with the lunar calendar thing). She happened to be born on December 8: The Feast of the Immaculate Conception, and her name is Mary (but didn't I just say her name was Kim...I am getting to that).
It just so happened that my mother was failing French in college and she prayed and bartered with Mary. She promised to name her first girl after Mary if only she passed French. Well, she passed with a D. Five years fast forward, my mother gives to a baby girl. She tells my father she has to name her "Mary" because of her promise years past. Well, my father said he didn't make any promises. He liked the name Elizabeth, but Mary Elizabeth sounded way too religious for him, so they settled on Mary Kimberly. And remember, she was born on December 8: The Feast of the Immaculate Conception. I was born on January 26 so I will save my seeds for April 6.
And just because I am one of those people who likes to learn as much about something before I do it or go see it, I jumped onto my computer and googled "farmers guide to planting." Lo! and behold, according to the lunar calendar for the entire month of April and May, each day is outlined for which seeds to plant for each desired crop. I immediately checked out April 5 and it read: "Barren Day. DO NO PLANTING." This obviously meant: avoid planting at all cost or I may be hexed. This was as close to religious dogma as one could get. Well, being a good Catholic, I did not plant, needless to say. I was stopped in my tracks, or dare I say row. There was no way I was going to put anything in that hallowed ground, groomed, watered and organic or not-well, at least for another 24 hours.
The closest thing I have to a green thumb is the dirt under my finger nails. I was not about to take on Mother Earth, and if her time clock said she was ovulating pretty much every day in April except for, and explicitly on April 5, then there was no way I was putting any seed in my garden today. I believe the only seed that could possibly have survived if planted today could only survive, God willing, via the immaculate conception. My seeds could wait one more day.
Only my sister, Kim, who happened to plant her seeds today (I would never dare tell her), could have any chance in heaven that her seeds will sprout (if you are going along with the lunar calendar thing). She happened to be born on December 8: The Feast of the Immaculate Conception, and her name is Mary (but didn't I just say her name was Kim...I am getting to that).
It just so happened that my mother was failing French in college and she prayed and bartered with Mary. She promised to name her first girl after Mary if only she passed French. Well, she passed with a D. Five years fast forward, my mother gives to a baby girl. She tells my father she has to name her "Mary" because of her promise years past. Well, my father said he didn't make any promises. He liked the name Elizabeth, but Mary Elizabeth sounded way too religious for him, so they settled on Mary Kimberly. And remember, she was born on December 8: The Feast of the Immaculate Conception. I was born on January 26 so I will save my seeds for April 6.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Starting An Organic Baby: Conception
For a long time I have been considering starting an organic vegetable garden, but never have.
I have been to lectures on how to start one. I have looked through numberous websites. I have envied friends' gardens. I have made excuses about our property not having enough sun or a proper location. I have entertained the idea with my husband. You name it, I have "haved" too many times.
I always compared starting a vegetable garden with having another child. The idea of having one is fantastic, but the reality is 100% love, commitment and hours of hard work. (In fact, I have wanted a third child but as I say, "it takes two to tango" and if my husband isn't interested in signing my dance card, it is not happening.)
A garden requires a bit of the same in terms of commitment, dedicated loving hours, and hard work-yet I finally realized if I wanted one, I could make it happen myself. I didn't need any dance partner to start my organic baby.
I found a sunny spot along the side of my house and started digging and thus my organic garden was conceived. I am no longer a "have not"...and will soon be a "have." I didn't even bother to ask my husband. I just told him I was going to start a vegetable garden.
This was huge for me because I am usually so afraid of failure or not doing it "right" that I end up keeping whatever I want to do or see in my "sometime in the future" list of things. I am not sure what changed in me. Perhaps I was tired of spending so much money at the local organic markets, or visiting a friend that just became a sharecropper at a local farm, or perhaps it is that turning 42 thing...or maybe just that I decided the best tasting and economical food is the food I grow myself.
No longer was it about doing it right or wrong, it was just about doing it. I stopped worrying about the outcomes. I have enough "gentleman and lady farmer friends" around me that I can ask for help along the way. In fact, my friend even brought me a bag of organic compost from Stone Barns at Blue Hill. For me that replicated the christening of a ship's maiden voyage with a bottle of bubbly. I am just as happy with organic waste and manure. I will save the champagne when I make my first serving of rainbow swiss chard grown just feet outside my back yard.
It's funny because I don't remember specific dates of when my children starting walking or talking, but I do remember the dates of their conception: June 1, 1997 and June 28, 1999....and now for my third: April 2, 2010.
I have been to lectures on how to start one. I have looked through numberous websites. I have envied friends' gardens. I have made excuses about our property not having enough sun or a proper location. I have entertained the idea with my husband. You name it, I have "haved" too many times.
I always compared starting a vegetable garden with having another child. The idea of having one is fantastic, but the reality is 100% love, commitment and hours of hard work. (In fact, I have wanted a third child but as I say, "it takes two to tango" and if my husband isn't interested in signing my dance card, it is not happening.)
A garden requires a bit of the same in terms of commitment, dedicated loving hours, and hard work-yet I finally realized if I wanted one, I could make it happen myself. I didn't need any dance partner to start my organic baby.
I found a sunny spot along the side of my house and started digging and thus my organic garden was conceived. I am no longer a "have not"...and will soon be a "have." I didn't even bother to ask my husband. I just told him I was going to start a vegetable garden.
This was huge for me because I am usually so afraid of failure or not doing it "right" that I end up keeping whatever I want to do or see in my "sometime in the future" list of things. I am not sure what changed in me. Perhaps I was tired of spending so much money at the local organic markets, or visiting a friend that just became a sharecropper at a local farm, or perhaps it is that turning 42 thing...or maybe just that I decided the best tasting and economical food is the food I grow myself.
No longer was it about doing it right or wrong, it was just about doing it. I stopped worrying about the outcomes. I have enough "gentleman and lady farmer friends" around me that I can ask for help along the way. In fact, my friend even brought me a bag of organic compost from Stone Barns at Blue Hill. For me that replicated the christening of a ship's maiden voyage with a bottle of bubbly. I am just as happy with organic waste and manure. I will save the champagne when I make my first serving of rainbow swiss chard grown just feet outside my back yard.
It's funny because I don't remember specific dates of when my children starting walking or talking, but I do remember the dates of their conception: June 1, 1997 and June 28, 1999....and now for my third: April 2, 2010.
Fool
April 1, 2010
Fool
Did you read/interpret it in the verb tense "to fool or tease" or as a noun as in "you are a fool"?
I correlate this (former and latter) with looking at the glass half full or half empty.
(I would rather be the fooler than the fooled.)
Fool
Did you read/interpret it in the verb tense "to fool or tease" or as a noun as in "you are a fool"?
I correlate this (former and latter) with looking at the glass half full or half empty.
(I would rather be the fooler than the fooled.)
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