Today, Sept 4 2017, Labor Day, is surely bringing in the fall weather. Warm air is moving gently across the porch but the rushing wind in the trees shows their changing colors and sounds the dry rustle of yellow leaves falling and scraping across the roadway. Few travelers are out today. An occasional car whips the leaves into action so they can get on down the road to the neighbors yard. Or a motorcycle stirs them into shoelaces and delivers them to other towns.
Nearby someone is burning wood for the holiday cookout. The odor makes me think of late evening bonfires and s'mores eaten by the squealing grandkids. Cricket chirping competes with the mellow tones of the wind chimes. They have been calling for mid September frosts which will cease their annoying song.
In 1976 the Labor Day weekend was rainy then hot and humid. I was miserable as I labored without drugs to deliver my oldest daughter at home for a day then in Willard Memorial Hospital for a night and day. In those days the nurses kept the prospective mothers strapped to the bed. All I wanted was to walk. Only one person could sit with me. Now they will let the whole extended family in the room if the mother and father can stand it. I just needed the doctor.
Other Labor Day weekends in the 80s, we traveled to Louisville, Kentucky for a family reunion at Grandmother Maudies on my mothers side. Those were hot days in an open park area. Most everyone came because few places worked weekends then. And the kids were still young enough to be made to see their relatives once a year.
Younger Labor Days signaled the start of the new school year. That weekend meant haircuts and home perms for me and 3 sisters until junior high. My poor brothers were treated to curly hair one year when Mother had leftover perm solution. Rogers school picture that year clearly showed his continued anger at the situation. Ralph was too young to care and not in school yet. I now wonder how Mother felt when he was the only one at home and six of us were out of her way for the day.
She did not get a job until he was in first grade.
The holiday in the teen age years meant we still had to work a full day at the muck farm. Workers had to pull double duty and a long day since the farm season was ending as kids returned to school. Many of the girls shopped at Hills that Sat or Sun and compared clothing and supples while we worked. The air buzzed with excitement for the changes coming.
Labor Day used to be the end date for white shoes and white skirts for ladies. Now anything goes for fashion - not style. I will wear sandals and shorts in Ohio until the snow flies or the leaves burn. And Gary will mow the lawn in December when it is warm enough.
