Today, with the American dream falling apart at our feet, CoViD knocking on our doors louder and louder, systemic racism exposed finally for all throughout this country (in the north as well as the south) to see, and the climate crisis marching unflinchingly across the globe, I thought you might join me in a bit of a break.
Given most of us are fortunate enough to be able to take a break, it’s time to muse again.
Today, its dates I’m pondering
Not the kind we eat. And not that other kind of date either:
I’m thinking of the kind of date we make plans around, tell stories of, and organize our life by: dates that show up in our weekly planner.
Is today’s date 8/5/20 or 5/8/20?
First, a brief story. And, now that enough time has gone by, it’s a funny story too.
Back in the late 1980s, we (at the time my typical suburban family of husband, two sons, two dogs, and a station wagon) arranged for an exchange student to spend a year with us.
Sara Paniagua, from Madrid, was the daughter I’d never had and on February 4th, I threw her a surprise 18th birthday party.
Trouble was, her birthday was actually April 2.
You know what went wrong, I’m sure.
I’d seen her birthday on her application form: 2/4/72 — February 4, 1972 — yes?
Pretty much everywhere around the world, today is 05/08/2020.
Though, in some Asian countries, today’s date is 2020/08/05.
The date we use here in the USA, 05/08/2020 is the date in only four other countries: Canada, Micronesia, Palau, and the Philippines.
Why, I do not know; musing is as far as I got. What can you tell us about this? And what are you musing about these days?
Beginning August 10, my memoir, At Home on the Kazakh Steppe will be featured as “Book of the Week” on the Facebook group, We Love Memoirs
It’s a fun group that I’ve been a part of since 2013 — before my memoir came out. It’s a closed group, so if you’d like to pop in at some point during the week and say hello, you’ll have to join first. Here’s the link.
Just pop on over and ask to join.
Tell them Janet sent you. (This will make no difference whatsoever, but I do love saying that.)
NEXT WEEK: another musing in the wings. Cross your fingers.