Fall's Funny Challenges
On a recent Tuesday afternoon, it was 85 degrees, forcing me to ditch the sweater I thought I needed. It was late October, after all, over a month into fall. Two days later, it was 25, forcing the sweater and a jacket on as well, both worn inside the house as well as outside (more on that later) because it feels like winter, which is supposed to be over a month away.
Perhaps I could blame these crazy temperature swings on climate change, but the change of seasons has always been around and has for me often led to difficult decisions, and not just what clothes to wear and when. So on that 85-degree day, the summer clothes having already been banished to an upstairs closet, I trudged up there to raid it for something more suitable to wear.
My problem dealing with this change of seasons is made more interesting by the person I live with. When October 1st comes, she declares it is fall. The air conditioning gets turned off even for that 85-degree day (“if you get hot, you can turn on the fan”). The heat doesn’t get turned on until it’s cold outside. The definition of when it’s cold outside (and inside) is a matter of gentle negotiation. She likes cool air and is a better negotiator, so you can guess how that goes. Yet in her defense, she makes a good case. Cool outside air is cleaner, more refreshing and healthier than warm, re-circulated and dry inside air. I admit (reluctantly) that we get fewer colds when the house temperature is cooler, though I try to argue that it’s because the germs can’t live in the cold.
A similar issue arises about when to take off the summer sheets and light blanket in favor of heavier sheets and a down comforter for fall and winter. We generally agree on that, but we rarely get the timing right. Then there is the subtle blanket ballet. I go to bed earlier than she does. When it’s truly cold, I pull both the sheet and quilt up to cover my neck and surround my body. She goes to bed later, she understandably does the same thing, leaving me somewhat exposed. Since sheets and blankets are not infinitely stretchable, this goes on through the night as each of us wakes up and recreates the blanket cocoon we want. Since at my age I get up more often, I eventually win out, though I feel guilty (not too guilty) in the morning when I wake and see her body half uncovered.
Another fall challenge is the time change. I agree with proposals to do away with this. It’s not only having to repeat the mantra “spring ahead, fall back” twice a year. I can’t stay up until 2 a.m., the appointed time to change the clocks. Whoever picked 2 a.m. is either a night owl or a sadist. So I change the clocks at 9 p.m., before going to bed. This leads my wife to glance at the clock and remark “it’s only 8, why are you going to bed?” Then, in the morning, when she asks what time it is and I say “it’s 7,” she replies “it’s really 8.” This can go on for a week or more. To her credit, she offers a simple compromise: the cuckoo and grandfather clocks, gifts to her, are left alone while I can change the others. We’re thus probably the only couple in America who live in two time zones in the same house.
I also need someone to explain to me why my computer and smart phone automatically change to the correct time in fall and spring while all the digital clocks in the house have to be changed manually. They all have computer chips these days, so what gives? My car is even more frustrating. It’s mostly computer chips but I still need to change the clock setting. My wife has a very good solution to this: “just leave it alone; you can remember to add or subtract an hour and the next time the season changes it will be right again!” Perfectionist that I am, I reject her sound advice so have no one but myself to blame.
Fall, of course, has manifold beauties. The leaf canopy with its vibrant colors is spectacular. The three hundred children that come by on Halloween bring the joys and laughter of youth to our door. The holiday season pushes my idiosyncratic fall frustrations into the category of minor annoyances where they belong, blessed as I am to have a home, heat, warm clothes and blankets when many others do not.
In a couple days, no doubt, a touch of summer will come fleetingly back. Winter months will then truly follow. By then I’ll have made the adjustments I so ungraciously complain about. I’ll be set for winter, ignoring that in a few months it will all start over in reverse. The person who said that “the only one who likes change is a wet baby” must have had me in mind.
Photo Credit: Carol Donsky Newell
