365

I admit it, I'm superstitious about calendars. I take great care in choosing my wall calendar each year, for the calendar, the thing in which I lay out, chart, plan my year, surely has some sway over the tone of the whole year. National Parks are majestic and inspiring, but too cold and impersonal, too cavalier with my small life. Tuxedo Cats are very cute, but we have two real ones prancing around the house, and we don't want to be those people. New England Harbors can be too melancholy; European Scenes create too much restless wanderlust; Zen Gardens are too serene for all 365 days-I don't want to sleep through the year! In 2001, I became bogged down my in calendar shopping and never could choose one. I suppose it's just as well, given the sad world and personal events that transpired in the second half of that year. Can't blame that on a calendar, and I might have developed a permanent distaste for Penguins or Faeries or Jalepeno Peppers. For 2005, Chinese Proverbs won out, with its pithy, warm sayings and humorous, stylized drawings.

But this morning, I wondered, did we get the wrong calendar? I'm not even sure what “A good bee never takes pollen from a fallen flower” is supposed to mean.