“The time has come, the walrus said, to talk of many things: of ships and shoes and sealing wax and cabbages and kings.” — Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland
The original title for these columns is “Ramblings,” and this one may seem like a rambling par excellence. To coin a phrase, “My brain has a mind of its own.” Willy-nilly, it persists on wandering simultaneously around through several ideas even though I try to keep it on the path that I have chosen. At present my mind is as full of stuff as heterogeneous as the Walrus’ list.
I’ve been thinking about computers, fancy telephones, the planet Mars, holidays and cousins. The difficulty is to make some logical connection out of this mishmash. That’s why older people seem to stray aimlessly. Actually, it’s because their minds are so full of ideas and the accumulation of a lifetime. In some ways old age is liberating. One doesn’t have to focus on education, child rearing, work and the “important” things.
“My days were not days of the week, bearing the stamp of any heathen deity, nor were they minced into hours and fretted by the ticking of a clock.” — Henry David Thoreau, Walden
Rather than forgetting time and living seamlessly, we try to quantify the days and months of our lives with mathematical precision, starting with January and giving each month a separate page, neatly subdivided into little numbered squares each of which designates a day in our existence. We sort the events and ideas of our lives into pigeon holes, rather than viewing the whole shebang as an entity.
Looking back, I see that the calendar of my life has been circular in shape — like an artist’s color wheel — rather than square or rectangular with each month of it tidily categorized and separate from the others. The wheel of my months turns, turns, turns repeatedly through time past and then moves on to the present.
The vivid colors of October have come — as they always have — and passed — as they always do. The trees all dressed in their coat of autumnal tints were splendid, but December allows one to see the gracefulness of their unclad limbs. The orange of October lingers yet a while for Bill and me. The week before Halloween he set a large, uncut pumpkin out in front of the greenhouse window. Eventually Squirrelie started scraping around on it. Day after day he/she has savored the delights of its tasty seeds and firm flesh until it is almost gone. Squirrelie is an alpha squirrel. It alone occupies the choicest place under the bird feeder, comes to the door for peanuts and has squatter’s rights to the pumpkin. We know this because it is getting fatter and fatter!
Now the wheel has turned beyond the Thanksgiving feast that replicated those of the past, and we are knee-deep in Christmas with its colors of red and green and gold, the scent of pine, delectable baking smells and beloved music. We have been traditionalists when it comes to Christmas, but we’ve had to adjust our thinking. People are ever so busy, have many commitments and no longer live near one another which makes arranging family gatherings complicated. Vicki’s family will gather here on December 15 since both we and Vicki prefer to stay in our own homes for Christmas. Eek! This means that we have to shop, wrap presents and bake earlier than usual.
Meanwhile, I don’t have time or the space to lay out the synthesis of my “ships and shoes” that I have in mind. Instead of being serious and concentrating, I’ve been watching the glorious, golden full moon slowly sink into the west — as have my thoughts. More to come. wclarke@comcast.net