How are you, friends? Did you have a good week? What’s the weather doing out your way? I discovered the delight of eating frozen kale right off the plant the other day. The garden is asleep, but my kale is still going strong despite the frigid temperatures.

We had our first snow at the start of the week. Of course, it’s still too early for it to stick, but it sure was pretty. It was a windy day, and the snow swirled outside my window, making me feel like I was sitting inside a snow globe. Always an excellent view from my favorite chair. 

It’s hard to believe we’ve started the final month of the year. In just a few short weeks, we’ll start another spin around the sun. Much like the year before it, 2023 has sped by.

As a kid, I remember time moving slowly, achingly slow. But something happened when I was in sixth grade. I blinked, and suddenly, school was out, and it was summer.

Each year since has felt progressively faster than the last. I know this is a commonly documented phenomenon concerning how we perceive time as we age. But I can’t help but wonder if our perception of time moves faster these days because of how busy we are as a society.  

If Dad was awake, the radio was on. I can still picture that old Panasonic boombox sitting on top of my dad’s rolltop desk. It was always tuned to the local PBS station. The dial never wandered elsewhere. (We went through copious amounts of D batteries over the years.)

My weekend time was kept by what was playing on the radio. “Live from the Metropolitan Opera House" (sponsored by Chevron Texaco) meant Saturday afternoon, and the tinkling piano keys before, “Oh hear that old piano, from down the alleyway…” meant Garrison Keiller and the Prairie Home Companion in the evening.

It's funny; even during my childhood, a kid spending their weekend with no TV and listening to the radio instead was pretty rare. These days, it would be downright unique.