Thursday, December 27, 2007


The period between Christmas Eve and new year's eve is ample proof for me on the relativity of time.

I thought about it when I took Lauren's Polaroid on Christmas Eve and she asked me if she could see it. Once I had pulled the Polaroid from the back attached to my Mamiya RB I told her that we had to wait for 60 seconds. She rapidly counted to 6 and asked me to see the picture. I had to correct her and tell her that she had to to the same thing 9 more times. She was confused.

All of us must remember the last day of school, in that last period of the school day in the heat of summer and how it never ends, particularly when we look at the clock. In our youth we are unaware that sometimes we can control the flow of time as I wrote here.



My favourite day of the Christmas season is Christmas Day. Since we celebrate Christmas Eve we do nothing on the next day. By nothing, I mean that Rosemary and I stay in bed. We have our usual breakfast (in bed, and would have read our daily delivered New York Times as they publish on Christmas Day. The delivery man took the day off.) and then while Rosemary dozes off I read and read. I may get up to replenish my tea or picar on the previous day's leftovers but I do stay in bed all day without one ounce of guilt. And that day lingers into the next into what must be the most languid and wonderful days of the year.



Those days were an eternity in my youth as I anticipated the Epiphany on January 6 and all those neat toys (an Erector set one year). They were unbearably long and dull and hot (Buenos Aires Decembers are hot). Now those days seem to be compressed and before I know it is January 2 and the stress on how I will make do the coming year is a reality.



I can only wish that I could make those days stretch out as I try to go through the pile of new books (30% off on all hardcovers yesterday at Chapters. I bought four.) on my bedside table. But I know that the days will race away from me and my only hope is that I will be around for a few more Christmas Eves with my grandchildren.

Perhaps they will not learn (for a while) that time is fleeting.