Emily's Senior Moments

Emily enjoying a September vacation September is the month of transitions: endings and beginnings. The end of summer and the beginning of fall. When I was growing up my birthday often fell on the first day of school. The beginning of a new grade in school and the start of a new year for me.   My best friend was Jewish. She taught me that the Jewish New Year began in September. It makes so much sense. Why does the world use Julius Caesar’s calendar with the New Year honoring Janus, a god that nobody believes in anymore?             When I married Mark, whose birthday is also in September, I began celebrating the beginning of his life each year, too.   September became a month for giving and receiving. This, too, is a kind of transition, as I morph from being the one who receives gifts and chocolate cake to being the one who gives presents and bakes cheesecake for Mark a few weeks later.               As a child I thought the whole month of September was mine, but as t

When we moved to our home in Oneonta, New York, 29 years ago our driveway was bordered by hosta and daylilies in a variety of colors. Tulips bloomed in the spring alongside daffodils and forget-me-nots. The kids liked to pop the hosta buds and the orange and yellow striped day lilies were Mark’s favorite flower. I was thrilled to have a good head start on the perennial flower beds I planned to have in abundance. Knowing that perennials would return every year, I figured I could look forward to many lazy summers once I had done the initial work of establishing my gardens. I started by reading books on perennial gardening and how to plan a color scheme with continuous bloom from spring through early fall. I dug up my garden beds, amending the soil with the free horse manure Mark helped me collect from a local farm. Then I went shopping for plants! The first few years I was very pleased with the results of my labors. Then strange things began to happen. Some of the perenn