Offering an end-of-first-quarter assessment
Today marks the end of the first quarter of 2019.
Three months gone. History.
I can’t help but think back to New Year’s Eve, remembering in a wincing kind of way how I vowed to do this and do that. Start off the first part of the New Year with a swirl of productivity.
But wow, where did those three months go?
And to think that I specifically adopted as my Biblical mantra verse 12, from Psalm 90 — “Teach us to number our days that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”
Funny thing, my heart is no smarter, and my math still stinks.
There’s some false sense of expectation that comes with winter and cold weather and being more inclined to be cooped up.
I had myself convinced that it would be grounds for greatness — that I would be standing back in admiration at this stage of the year, beaming with satisfaction in the midst of all my indoor achievements.
Kitchen cupboards would make sense, free of dishes and pans that haven’t been used in who knows how long and never will be.
I could actually find with ease a phone number or an address in my address book, not everything else that shouldn’t be in there. And yes, I still have an old-fashioned address/phone book, even a rotary dial landline phone. Caller ID? That’s when someone else in your household answers the phone and yells, “Janice, Cathy’s on the phone!!!”
The need for a junk drawer would cease.
Boxes of photos would be downsized, dated and detailed.
And “under-beds” — those spaces that are home to whatever fits there, fugitives hidden behind a dust ruffle/bed skirt — would be junk-free zones.
Who am I kidding? I wondered when I noted the approach of March 31.
I know all too well how the pull of a couch is a powerful force to be reckoned with at the end of the work day.
Better Half says I have a built-in sleep button automatically activated when I sit.
Off to Sleepyville I travel.
And now, even though the weather isn’t all that hot, it’s easy to start contemplating what outdoor projects are in the offing.
Yard work. Flower beds.
Or how to free the basement of a no-longer-working huge 1950s International Harvester freezer.
After my mother’s health started to deteriorate, Better Half and I knew we were long overdue to put this fire-hazard freezer out of commission and clean out its contents embedded in what was a monstrous solid block of ice.
We chuckled at the contents in its depths, joking that we might find Jimmy Hoffa at the bottom. Instead there were whole turkeys, chickens, loaves of bread, vegetables and enough hot dogs to feed a community on the Fourth of July.
It was a three-day chisel-and-conquer project.
Now it’s empty, its removal on a revised to-do list with carryover winter projects.
Anything can happen in the second quarter, though.
No fooling! Happy April 1st.
(Kiaski, a resident of Richmond, is a staff columnist and community editor for the Herald-Star and The Weirton Daily Times. She can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org.)