Keeping up with calendars no easy task as winter turns corner
I got home last night in time to bring in the firewood without the use of my headlights — it was after 5 p.m. – and this morning it was light at 6:30 a.m. I feel like I’ve finally turned the corner on the darkest of winter’s days.
This last year went by so fast that when I look at the annual events on my calendar, like the Stockgrowers scholarship dinner or the Chamber of Commerce’s awards ceremony, I realize that my wardrobe isn’t keeping up with their rapid recurrences.
I live and die by my calendars. Each year, Mom sends me a pocket-sized calendar I can keep in my purse. Two local vendors gave me calendars at the end of the year as well as a local nonprofit and a neighbor. The decorative calendar on my kitchen wall from last year still says September, because it has Labrador puppies on it or more likey because I don’t schedule my life in that room…
Lately, I’ve become very close and personal with the calendar on my laptop. When the computer stopped working at the beginning of the month, I was petrified that I wouldn’t know where I was supposed to be or what I was doing. I had to re-create what I remembered onto another computer program.
If I were savvy, perhaps I could sync it with the calendar on my phone, which I have no idea how to do or where in my “apps” it even is.
No matter how well I schedule myself, I realize that if I don’t LOOK AT THE CALENDAR posting myself, reminders do absolutely no good. I suppose that would be the benefit of having something beep at me, which reminds me of a “Seinfeld” episode when a famous author grabbed a beeping electronic calendar from one of the characters and threw it out the window of a limousine. I am fearful I would do the same.
A couple years ago, I traveled to Boulder, Colo., to celebrate Easter one last time with the rector of St. John’s, the city’s downtown Episcopal parish.
Normally I leave my phone in the car while at church, the very worst place for a device to ring, chirp, buzz or jangle. Some time in the early part of the service my phone rang. Panicked, instead of simply reaching in the pocket and turning off the ringer, I jumped out of my pew, conveniently located next to a door to the outside, and threw my coat outside.
I wonder where the great balance between a fading short-term memory and an obsession to record every meeting, event and deadline is ... a beeping mechanism? Writing notes on my hand? Memory enhancement games?