From Over the Hill: Peanut Butter by Peter Bloch-Hansen
turning leaves become; how rich and lovely the air, like sweet vintage champagne – all that. Love it! Love it! But September? Time to start scheduling that last trip to the beach, the last barbecue, and backyard parties; desperately making that long list of fun things to make sure I do before sum- mer steals away in the gathering shade and cooling nights. Oh, who am I kidding? I don’t do a lot of that stuff anymore anyway -- wouldn’t if you paid me (well, maybe then). I bet a lot of you don’t either, or maybe … not so much? Well, once we have enough Septembers in us, it doesn’t really matter much what month it is, however named, because we’ve learned to value and appreciate them, to treasure each day’s gifts as they come. We can look out over the space of year and consider how every month offers something different; how we can wake up one morning taken totally by surprise – by the morning sun glittering through long January icicles that formed on our eaves when we weren’t looking – or a majestic flight of our Canada Geese filling the sky with their unique, Canadian calls (please don’t tell them I named their calls Canadian; they think of themselves as internationals). So, I think, in view of that sadness I mentioned, September in Canada should be devoted to telling jokes, no joke, however lame, stale or corny disallowed -- heaven knows we are internationally famous for our comedians (quite a few of them are in politics, but don’t say I said so). And further, I declare this month should be renamed Laffember unless you have a better suggestion.
As no doubt, many of you know, the name ‘September’ comes from the Latin word septem , for ‘seven’, because it was seventh in their calendar – likewise, October, November and December for
eight, nine and ten. Their calendar didn’t work very well, though, so extra months were stuck, August being one, named for Emperor Augustus, who can forget that guy? Funny, how things get named. A popular cleanser was named Comet – why? And hand soap, Ivory Snow – really? And why are ants, ants, and who named the mosquito anyway? Don’t get me started on botanical names or chemistry. Following the French Revolution, the new government renamed all the months, but didn’t even use the French language! If we asked some five-year-olds for new names for the months, I wonder what they’d come up with? Better names than we have, I’d bet. Maybe some teachers could be persuaded to try it? Maybe Geoff would publish the results. Might be fun. Ah, fun. For me, September means that summer fun will soon be ending, which brings a certain sadness (and dread of snow shovelling). Now, I love how beautiful September sunlight is, golden, rich; how gorgeous and fragrant the
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Page 12 Boomers and Beyond – Elgin • September 2025
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