Of Ants and Grasshoppers

 Like the squirrels and the ants, I have begun to hoard supplies for the coming winter. I buy two rather than one bag of coffee beans at my regular visit to J&S Coffee Roasters; I purchase another spare tub of CeraVe body lotion. The dermatologist has recommended a twice daily application as the colder weathers close in too rapidly. I buy more patchouli incense for the home, and like many older retired folks, I purchase extra cans and boxes of foods that are on-sale. I check my closets to be certain that my long sleeve and flannel shirts have been cleaned and properly stored and are ready to be uncovered and worn. My flannel lined jeans are moved now front and center. Sweaters are taken out of storage and placed on shelves neatly folded. I have begun to pile another set of books that will be read throughout the cold months, and I have stacked my artificial logs before the fireplace. I make sure there is enough paper and ink in the printer, and have purchased a supply of replacement light bulbs.

     In fact, I don’t truly mind winters here in the mid-west, though by February I begin to tire of the frigid temperatures, the dirty snow and the darknesses. One thing that I find uncomfortable about winter is having to step out of the shower into the cold air. I think sometimes it would be nice to have several servants about to instantly wrap me about with warmed towels as I exit the steamed-up shower stall. Or perhaps I fantasize about installing some form of safe space heater that would not electrocute as I stumble about in the bathroom space or set afire my towels and balls of cotton. I wonder if somewhere people have come to have installed small fireplaces in their shower rooms! I’ll bet Henry VIII did not tolerate the cold of winter without a bevy of servants and women to keep him warm!
     I read that squirrels can’t remember where they have stored 70-80% of the goods they have buried. Alas, as I continue to bring supplies from stores inside the house; the rooms get cluttered and I can’t always remember where I have put some things. The newpapers and journals carpet the floor. I put post-it notes on top of post-it notes. And where now did I leave that pen?
     But like the grasshopper I continue to play and dance as summer becomes Fall. And will continue to dance and sing my way (I hope and anticipate) from Fall to Winter and then to Spring and back to Summer. There is much cause to mourn but too little time to indulge so. Alas, I do indulge myself nonetheless. I think often of the lyrics to “The Merry Minuet”:

They're rioting in Africa
They're starving in Spain
There's hurricanes in Florida
And Texas needs rain.

The whole world is festering
With unhappy souls
The French hate the Germans,
The Germans hate the Poles
Italians hate Yugoslavs
South Africans hate the Dutch
And I don't like anybody very much

And so, as I open another beer, put some fake logs in the real fireplace, purchase thicker bath towels and make room in the pantry and refrigerator and freezer. And anticipate the colder days.