The Autumn Years: Nature's Gift

Autumn, in all her finery, is upon us. What better way could there be to describe us Seniors than being in the Autumn of our lives ? It is, indeed, the perfect description.

The Autumn season is mellow. The harvest is nearing completion, the cider's in the jug, the fireside's aglow. It's a time for slowing down, reflecting on the year that's drawing to a close, and enjoying life's goodness.

It's my favorite time of year. I believe that I inherited my love of the season from my father. It was Dad's favorite season as well. Every year,until my mother's death, when the woods were in their full glory, and with the first hard frost, just like clockwork, Dad would burst through the kitchen door, smiling and laughing and then he'd recite James Whitcomb Riley's wonderful ode to Autumn, start to finish, with gusto.

WHEN THE FROST IS ON THE PUNKIN
by: James Whitcomb Riley (1849-1916)

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock,
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock,
And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens,
And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;
O, it's then's the times a feller is a-feelin' at his best,
With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

They's something kindo' harty-like about the atmusfere
When the heat of summer's over and the coolin' fall is here--
Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossums on the trees,
And the mumble of the hummin'-birds and buzzin' of the bees;
But the air's so appetizin'; and the landscape through the haze
Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days
Is a pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock--
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn,
And the raspin' of the tangled leaves, as golden as the morn;
The stubble in the furries--kindo' lonesome-like, but still
A-preachin' sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill;
The strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed;
The hosses in theyr stalls below--the clover over-head!--
O, it sets my hart a-clickin' like the tickin' of a clock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock!

Then your apples all is gethered, and the ones a feller keeps
Is poured around the celler-floor in red and yeller heaps;
And your cider-makin' 's over, and your wimmern-folks is through
With their mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and saussage, too! ...
I don't know how to tell it--but ef sich a thing could be
As the Angels wantin' boardin', and they'd call around on me--
I'd want to 'commodate 'em--all the whole-indurin' flock--
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock!

As the trees began to turn, I was contemplating Autumn's joys, the leisure time. I envisioned long, contemplative evenings with my Darlin' Darlene, the fireplace lit, a good book, sitting back in my comfy chair with a glass of Port or a fine Bordeaux, just unlaxing. But, it was not to be.

One late September afternoon, we encountered our wonderful neighbors, Joe and Machelle and Elliot, the quintessential Dog, from across the way. They were exuberant in describing a wondrous addition to our local High School; the Spring Lake Community Fitness and Aquatic Center. They had been to the Open House and were totally smitten, and it was for the entire community, not just the students. My Darlin Darlene's eyes lit up like the finest Halowe'en Jack-O-Lantern, and I'm certain that I saw furtive glances from both her and Machelle toward my ever growing waistline. I sensed that my contemplative evenings, getting fatter, were fleeting. "We'll just have to check it out", said Dar. "You bet", said I. My Autumn Nocturne had been altered.

So, check it out we did, and that very night, surprise of surprises, we were members. Not only were we members, I actually perused the Activity Schedule and found a class innocuously titled, "Senior Circuit Training Team: a total body fitness program", which I joined. The Lord Himself, must have been shocked. I'm still in disbelief, though every muscle in my body is now a true believer.

I've been working out on machines that are nothing short of modern adaptation's of Torquemada's designs for the Inquisition. Lucy, one of the Inquisitor's henchmen (henchladies ?), has promised that I'll be a "New Man". New, I guess. This program will have to result in a miraculous replacement of every one of my muscles because there's no way my old ones will ever survive. Now please understand because I don't; this is not only voluntary, I have paid good old American dollars for the privilege. I do this every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon, with the class, and on Saturday as a matter of choice.

My Darlin' Darlene has dived right into a Water Aerobics class in the evening, during which, I go and play with hordes of children in the Leisure Pool. They even dive with goggles in the hot tub. I must be possessed or perhaps, repossessed.

Seriously now, my Banner line says, "Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body. But rather to skid in sideways, Martini in hand, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming “WOO-HOO what a ride!”

My take on it is that our Senior years should be enjoyed with vigor; to enjoy these "Golden Years" to the fullest. That mission cannot be accomplished properly with a body that is grossly overweight and totally out of condition. I have bought in to this conditioning program, and I am honestly enjoying it. Oh yes, I get stiff and sore for a bit on the off days, but I'm committed to giving that potential "New Man" a shot at happening, and so should you. Yes, it's much easier to just sit back and watch your life slide by. But to grab it by the throat, and wring every last ounce of everything life offers from it, is far more satisfying. You owe it to yourself and to your spouse or partner. I assuredly want to "...skid in sideways...body thoroughly used up, totally worn out...", but I want to do it, looking good. Oh, and don't forget that Martini or glass of Bordeaux.

These are the Autumn years. There are no more Spring and Summer years. But there are still places to go, people to see, poems to read memorize and recite. Doing it as fit as possible will only make it better.

Hallowe'en is nigh on us, and I'll leave you with this. My Dad's favorite poet was James Whitcomb Riley. I related earlier how he would recite his favorite poem. He had committed more than one to memory. Each Hallowe'en, when I was quite young, just before we were to head out for an evening of "Trick or Treat", which was always after dark back then, he would sit us down and scare the Bejeesus out of my brother and me by reciting Riley's "The Little Orphan Annie".

The Little Orphan Annie
by
James Whitcomb Riley

Little Orphan Annie's come to my house to stay.

To wash the cups and saucers up and brush the crumbs away.

To shoo the chickens from the porch and dust the hearth and sweep,

And make the fire and bake the bread to earn her board and keep.

While all us other children, when the supper things is done,

we sit around the kitchen fire and has the mostest fun,

a listening to the witch tales that Annie tells about

and the goblins will get ya if ya don't watch out!

Once there was a little boy who wouldn't say his prayers,

and when he went to bed at night away up stairs,

his mammy heard him holler and his daddy heard him bawl,

and when they turned the covers down, he wasn't there at all!

They searched him in the attic room and cubby hole and press

and even up the chimney flu and every wheres, I guess,

but all they ever found of him was just his pants and round-abouts

and the goblins will get ya if ya don't watch out!!

Once there was a little girl who always laughed and grinned

and made fun of everyone, of all her blood and kin,

and once when there was company and old folks was there,

she mocked them and she shocked them and said, she didn't care.

And just as she turned on her heels and to go and run and hide,

there was two great big black things a standing by her side.

They snatched her through the ceiling fore she knew what shes about,

and the goblins will get ya if ya don't watch out!!

When the night is dark and scary, and the moon is full

and creatures are a flying and the wind goes Whoooooooooo,

you better mind your parents and your teachers fond and dear,

and cherish them that loves ya, and dry the orphans tears

and help the poor and needy ones that cluster all about,

or the goblins will get ya if ya don't watch out!!!

Dad was fun.

Have yourself a wonderful day, because it's a wonderful day out there !

Later,

Don Lehr (Michguy)