Sunday, September 2, 2012

Labour Day Weekend 2012

Traditionally the Labour Day weekend is the one where I normally start the fall cleanup of the yard and such.  This year the weather is still too nice to put lawn furniture away but I did get a start on umbrellas and tools.  We didn’t get much of a harvest this year, our big bumper crop being our apples.  The birds got the gooseberries and our raspberries were dormant this year (probably due to neglect and being choked by thistles).
       This weekend my brothers are working on repairing my garage, which seemed to be coming apart at the seams.  I was helping as I dodged their ladders, chains and electric wires but now I am exhausted and as they have gone for a siesta I thought I would peruse last year’s September writings.  So the first thing that caught my eye was the mourning of All My Children and One Life to Live.  I believe Oprah missed the boat on that one; can you imagine the built in audience she would have had for her new network if she took over those two shows?  Who is her consultant anyway?  Is it too late?
       Last year we had our golf tournament in mid September and had a glorious day.  We are experiencing like weather at the moment and with the good news that we are supposed to have a warm autumn, I am in heaven.  With mother at the kitchen helm we’ve been enjoying apple pies and apple sauce and perhaps tomorrow it will be my turn to make an apple crisp.  Autumn is a great time for apples which I think we can call “every man’s fruit”.
       On Friday it was the 15th anniversary of Princess Diana’s death.  I well remember my sister and I being in shock during the whole Labour Day weekend 15 years ago.  It hardly seems that long ago and yet so much has happened around the globe and in the Royal Family.  It’s sometimes hard to keep timelines in perspective as one gets older.  Some things seem like yesterday while other things are so far in the past you cannot even remember more than an outline of the story.
       I often find the Labour Day weekend a time of unreality, as I sometimes feel that I am disconnected from the outside world.  Traditionally I don’t travel on this particular long weekend and as most people either also don’t, or else they go camping or travelling to family, I am frequently alone for the whole three days.  Certainly not this weekend, where family has been coming and going like a revolving door.  It’s nice but also unsettling.  Routines don’t happen.
       But what’s so great about routine anyway?

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