The other day I opened up the latest issue of Martha Stewart magazine to find a calendar listing everything I won’t be doing in the month of September. It’s uncanny.
Take, for example, Sept. 8, a day I won’t be picking hot peppers or stringing them to dry. On Sept. 13, I won’t be taking a horseback ride (don’t even know how). Nor will I be picking apples or making applesauce. And I won’t be taking fall sweaters, coats and boots out of storage (I keep everything smushed in one closet). Not only that, but on Sept. 21, I won’t be scrubbing porch floors, ceilings and walls (don’t have a porch to scrub). I also won’t be sowing greens in cold frames. I don’t even know what that means. Finally, on Sept. 26 I won’t be touching up indoor paint while the humidity is low and the windows can be opened.
See what I mean? It’s like Martha is a mind reader or something. I won’t be inspecting deer fencing, harvesting potatoes or adding the last of the tomato plants to the compost pile. All I can say is I’m awed by her insight into my life.
Hang on—this isn’t a calendar chronicling everything I won’t be doing. It’s Martha’s 30-day organized list of domestic insanity: a.k.a. what she’ll be doing.