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The Year in Advance

By Clinton Kelly

Happy holidays, my fellow Litchfieldians! You’d better party hearty. I mean, like really live it up—safely, please—because we all know what time of year comes next. Ugh. It’s the worst. Granted, some people actually enjoy the season that follows the holiday season. If you’re one of them, good for you. Personally, I think you’re nuts. But I’m happy for you. Ya nut.

Maybe you’re not from these parts, so let me explain by sharing my seasonal calendar for this gorgeous slice of the world. (You’ll notice my calendar begins in May, because that’s when actual life starts around here.)

May: My Back is Killing Me Month

This is the month during which you must spend every waking moment working on your house and property so you can (kind of) relax and enjoy the next four months. Window screens need cleaning. Gutters need clearing. Paint needs retouching. Gardens need mulching. And, most importantly, your muscle-relaxer prescription needs refilling. Fun!

June, July & August: Literal Heaven on Earth

This glorious chunk of time is why the people (who are not nuts) choose to live in Litchfield County. Not a day goes by when I don’t have the urge to twirl on my luscious lawn like a dirndl-clad Julie Andrews. And some days I do, because let’s face it, a fitted bodice can be very flattering. The hills are alive, people, with the taste of fresh strawberries and corn and tomatoes. Oh, my. (Pardon me for mixing my gay metaphors but I’m positively delirious just contemplating summer!) Sure, I might spend seven hours a day pulling weeds and jabbing deer-shaped voodoo dolls, but as Judy Garland sang in In The Good Old Summertime, I don’t care! (Three gay references in one paragraph: I’m on fire! And if you haven’t seen Judy’s swingy-armed performance, Google it THIS INSTANT. You’re welcome.)

September: The Best Month of Them All and Don’t Try to Argue With Me Because I Will Cut You 

Teachers hate this month because they have to deal with kids. I love this month because I don’t have to deal with kids—and I don’t even have kids! I just enjoy knowing they’re locked away for seven hours a day someplace I can’t hear or see them. Oh yeah, and the skies are clear, the humidity’s gone, the bugs are dead. And in the evening, you just need a light sweater to top your dirndl. 

October: Month of the Leaf Blower

Oh, it’s a gorgeous 31 days, don’t get me wrong. J’adore regarding a thoughtlessly artful display of gourds and mums whilst sipping warm cider. (Insert eye roll emoji here.) But nothing kills a perfectly autumnal vibe like that neighbor with the burning desire to fire up his gas-powered back-strapped windbag at the ass-crack of dawn. Oh, and he doesn’t even have to be your next-door neighbor! That SOB can live five miles away and he’ll still sound like he’s in your kitchen. 

November: Thanksgiving Month

The morning after Halloween I switch from watching Pornhub to the complete videography of Ina Garten. ’Nuff said.

December: We Should Totally Get Together Month

You: “OMG, I haven’t seen you in forever! Let’s grab a drink!”

Them: “Yassss! I’m free Thursday from 6 to 7:30!”

You: “Done. Cannot. Wait.”

Repeat 752 times and remember why you only see these ding-dongs once every 12 months.

January, February, March, April: Dark Night of the Frickin’ Soul

I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you. I hate the cold. I hate the constant gray skies, and I double-hate that I sold my apartment in Miami Beach during the pandemic. Oh, excuse me. Did I say that out loud? I meant: It takes a certain kind of person to appreciate Mother Nature’s downtime. There’s a yin for every yang, a bong for every bang. I literally don’t even know what I’m talking about here because I’m typing this article through a stream of tears. Whatever. Leave me alone. 

That’s the year in brief. Have an amazing holiday, neighbor! I’m free on Tuesday from 2:15 to 2:20 if you want to grab a drink. Except I don’t drink before 5:00, so we could grab a coffee. Except my caffeine cutoff is at 2:00. So, let’s get a hot chocolate. Except I’m cutting down on sugar. So, yeah, maybe we could do a barbecue on Memorial Day. Except my parents are coming over so… Yeah, I’ll just see you next whenever.

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    Dumais Interior Design