Thanksgiving kicks off the holiday season, but November can be a tough month
November. What can we do about November?
To me, it’s always been a month of mixed blessings.
Years ago, when I was young and could move laterally, it meant the opening of basketball season when my buddies and I would take the floor for Little Valley Central School in the Cattaraugus County “C” League.
We were OK, our skills honed for years in the makeshift court on the second floor of our barn, or in the school gym itself. My father, the school principal, would let us play there on weekends as he caught up on paperwork in his office.
November was filled with hope, hoop dreams, for sure. But it set us up for disappointment, as, inevitably, our team would lose, finish second or worse in the league. That would happen in February when winter had hung on too long.
I’ve written about February, accused it of being fickle, “warm one day, cold the next.” By the time February comes we’re impatient for that new season, spring.
If February is the gateway month to spring; November is the gateway month to winter.
Winter bothers me now, maybe because it takes so long to get going in winter. It means overcoats, scarves, gloves, boots, shoveling, scraping.
Of course, winter took time when I was a kid, but I didn’t seem to notice. I would buckle my boots – whatever happened to buckle boots? – head to school, put in the hours before basketball practice.
I didn’t notice a lot of things when I was a kid, the drop in temperature, the drop of leaves. Now I do.
Cindy and I make the 40-mile drive to Hornell to pick up some stuffing at Stearns Poultry Farm Store.
Stearns stuffing is the official stuffing of all our Thanksgiving dinners. We buy six bags, more for one turkey, but enough for later meals. Rule of thumb: You can’t get enough Stearns stuffing.
As we drive over the hill from Dansville to Hornell, I notice that the trees are bare; the landscape is brown, not green. Summer and fall are gone. “Good grief, winter is coming,” I tell myself, surprised, depressed.
It’s early in the day. We’ll make it back before dark, I hope, but I’m not so sure.
We lost daylight saving time in November. Now it gets dark at noon, or is it 1 p.m.? Whatever, it’s too early. We might as well live in some Swedish village where the Arctic Circle is the next town over.
“Snap out of it,” I tell myself. Sure, November brings eternal darkness, at least in the Northern Hemisphere, but it also brings, not just Sterns stuffing, but Thanksgiving, and, earlier in the month, elections.
“Wait a minute,” you may have said, elections?
I love elections. I don’t always love the results, but I love elections themselves.
Oh yes, I mourn for the old voting machines and their sounds: The chain-clang that came with the opening of the curtain, the snap of the levers as I voted, the chain-clang again as I emerged, having done my civic duty.
That music is gone. We mark circles on paper ballots, slip them into a machine, watch as our votes slide in to be tallied.
It’s a noiseless process, not as satisfying as the old method, but, still, I love it.
I should give November a shout out for elections, just as I should thank it for Thanksgiving, a holiday I love for the turkey, the stuffing, the family, the whole nine yards.
More than anything else, I should stop looking ahead. Sure, the leaves are down, and, sure, December and winter are around the corner. I should live in the November moment; I should seize the day.
We get home by 3 p.m. It’s light. Darkness hasn’t settled in. I’m happy. To my surprise, I’ve seized the day. Thank you, November, a month I could learn to like.
From his home in Geneseo, Livingston County, retired senior editor Jim Memmott, writes Remarkable Rochester, who we were, who we are. He can be reached at jmemmott@gannett.com or write Box 274, Geneseo, NY 14454
This article originally appeared on Rochester Democrat and Chronicle: Thanksgiving kicks off the holiday season, but November is can be rough
