Despite a summer that we thought was never going to stop grilling us, as the afternoon light fades and the nights get cool, it’s clear that fall is here. For me this means a bit of hunkering down, making yet another effort to simplify things. And I do mean things.
The garden needs help after this disastrously dry summer. Although it’s too dry to divide and replant perennials, at least they can be cut down until — let’s hope — we get some significant rain.
Meanwhile, our one-car garage needs to be reorganized so the car can be shoehorned in during the winter. In addition, despite a continuous effort to get rid of stuff after many decades of marriage, both my husband and I have held on to a number of small mountains, especially of books and papers. He has been a faithful and constant correspondent, so some of the mountains have letters in them.
“This summer,” he said, as he does almost every June, “I’m really going to go through my letters and get rid of a bunch of them.”
So here it is September, and how did it go? Not so well, but he did have a fascinating time reading through those folders. Yes, he got rid of some, but not the important ones from close friends. You want to be careful what you get rid of, in case you might want to see it again.
Although I, too, have more paper than anyone will ever make use of, my clearing out has more to do with things — clothes, household stuff, items that just sit there and don’t get moved from the closet or shelf or drawer.
What about all those carry bags with someone’s logo on them? The carving set that has sat in a drawer since we got it as a wedding present many decades ago? The kitchen utensils that multiply in the drawer? An accumulation of useful but nondescript glass vases? They will go to the Fisher Home’s Hospice Shop.
Sometimes I can “repurpose” things, in the going phrase. When did I last use an evening purse, those elegant small pouches that can hold a handkerchief and a key? Not in a long time — I need my reading glasses, my wallet, extra hearing aid batteries and sometimes a cellphone. So I just carry the same mid-sized black nylon satchel day and night. One of those colorful, arty-looking evening bags is now my dog-walking bag: the smaller compartment contains treats, the bigger one plastic bags and a headlamp for nighttime walks. Works just fine.
Could the fall clean-up be a metaphor for presidential politics? If so, where does it leave us? I have been reading some convincing pieces of reporting from coal country, where people have voted reliably Democratic for generations. Many of them are planning to vote for Trump. We’ve lost too much, they say, and we’re holding the group in power responsible. We’re looking for a strong new broom, an outsider, and Trump looks like that guy. He says it like it is, like it should be: “Out With the Old. Throw the Bums Out.”
Meanwhile, the “bums” — in the guise of the Clinton campaign — are stuttering. Hillary has allegedly offended half of the Trump voters, and she and her handlers were less than forthcoming about her health. (Why is it that the Clintons — yes, both of them — have to stonewall first whenever they’re challenged in any way? Only then do they let the truth leak out. Maddening.)
So here’s a somewhat pragmatic counter-proposal to “Out With the Old.” Let’s think of something like: “Don’t Throw the Baby Out With the Bathwater.” Better the experienced, competent, equivocating, imperfect devil you know than the blustering, lying, tax-evading, megalomanaical narcissist you’re getting to know all too well.
Marietta Pritchard can be reached at mppritchard@comcast.net.