Here it is, Presidents Day again — the holiday that I’ve thought for many years combines the birth dates of two, revered presidents, Washington and Lincoln — Feb. 22 and Feb. 12, respectively. Turns out I’m not the only one to hold that misconception.
Picture two sweaty people, two hours plus on the trail yesterday in the great outdoors on a fresh, sunshiny morning … but this was not a pleasure hike along the state trail that runs up the back of Nounou Mountain. This was a mission to eradicate aggressive weeds impinging on our property that borders the trail.
Old Man Time reached his limit for 2018 seven days ago, accompanied by the “inexorable march of time,” often symbolized by the tortoise. And the stork, carrying birth symbolism, brings in the new year — 2019, in this case — with a quick backwards glance to the past, but with intention aimed forward.
Right now our ears are particularly attuned to the approaching stop-start rumble of our mail carrier’s truck because of the anticipated flurry of Christmas cards arriving to alleviate the tedium of bills and unwanted flyers.
There’s definitely “no place like home for the holidays,” as Barry Manilow’s classic song lyrics say — unless (maybe) you’re visiting on Kauai. This statement of opinion beaming out via today’s Green Flash is one my husband Dee and I feel like underlining after a fortnight away.