Looking out my Backdoor: Calendar Girl

“I love, I love, I love my Calendar Girl,

“Yeah, sweet Calendar Girl,

“I love, I love, I love my Calendar Girl,

“Each and every day of the Year.”

Thank you, Neil Sedaka, wherever you are. I had to share this ancient song from the last century with you. Now these cheesy lyrics will possess your mind like they possess mine. Why? Well, that is the story.

It’s a new year upon us. Yep. 2023. Who’d a thought we’d make it!

I like old-fashioned paper calendars. I like to keep mine, a page for each month, on a small, weighted, slotted stand by my computer.

In the past years, unable to find a calendar for sale in my little town, I’ve laid out pen, paper, ruler and made my own, with room to write down the important things, such as, on the 12th, give Lola her worm pill. Second week of January, pay the annual water bill. On the 22nd, new book by favorite author. Important stuff.

This year, Cousin Nancie gave me a delightful store-bought (as we used to say) calendar with grand pictures of exotic frogs. I like frogs. Just one little bitty problem. Actually, a big problem, not insurmountable, but a problem of size.

The frog calendar is too large to sit in my slotted desk stand. Shucks and dern. Oh, well. I’ll give the pictures to Leo’s nieces. Draw my usual homemade months.

I lay out the paper, pens, ruler to begin drawing lines and squares. I decide to label each page in Spanish. Enero, Febrero, Marzo and so on. Days of the week, Domingo, Lunes, Martes, etc.

I know, I can print calendars on the computer and it is quick, no fuss, no smears. I already tried. Wasted a lot of paper. They were pretty enough and neat enough but with not enough room to mark in the important things, such as, Aug. 24, rabies shot (Lola, not me). Each month printed small on the page with large margins of empty surround. And the one I liked best began the week on Monday. I like to begin my week on Sunday. I’m picky, OK.

I’m at my table, using my frogs as a guide, have worked my way through Mayo, am drawing Junio, numbering the days, when it dawns on me that something seems off. Off had niggled at me through this whole process, which has now eaten some hours, because I’m multi-tasking.

I stop, look carefully at the frog calendar Nancie gave me. Looks good to me. I flip back to January. The frog of the month has the first day beginning mid-week. How can that be? I know that New Year’s Day was Domingo. It is a puzzle.

Finally, I see the calendar year. 2021. My dear cousin Nancie gave me a two-year-old calendar. What could I do but laugh. I tore up all my home-grown pages and threw the whole works in the garbage, saving the frog pictures for the girls. Done for the day. I’ll make a new calendar tomorrow.

A few years ago, an acquaintance said to me, “I like your articles because you are always doing something wrong, flubbing up.”

So here is my New Year’s gift to you. I flubbed it up again. It is my role in life, to make you feel really good about yourself. I love, I love, I love my calendar, girl.

——

Sondra Ashton grew up in Harlem but spent most of her adult life out of state. She returned to see the Hi-Line with a perspective of delight. After several years back in Harlem, Ashton is seeking new experiences in Etzatlan, Mexico. Once a Montanan, always. Read Ashton’s essays and other work at http://montanatumbleweed.blogspot.com/. Email [email protected].