random thoughts – Day 1,628 – (Sunday) – september again

And just like that, August is over. It came and it went and now it’s September (or Syyskuu on my Finnish calendar, which translates to "autumn moon"). And in grown-up times, August feels different than it did once upon a time. It's less magic.

As a junior high and even a high school student, August was for planning and preparing. At least one week of August included time spent sprawled across my bed, practicing how I would write my name during the upcoming school year. (I have spent no time attempting to improve my penmanship in recent decades, and it's becoming obvious.) I loved summer, but looked forward to returning to school to see friends not seen since June. 

And there were the fall fashions. The thick fall fashion editions of magazines were scrutinized to determine which sweaters, tights, and footwear I would be searching for in our local shops when shopping with Mummu. An "as seen in Seventeen magazine" ad or sign would send my pulse racing. 

Mummu always set me up on my mid-August birthday with a new outfit for the hallowed first day of school. Then, I would count the days until I could wear the new duds. It wasn’t an actual rule, but the outfit was never worn before that magical first day. It hung in the closet and was admired often. 

Back then, school didn’t begin until after Labor Day. Some families may have squeezed in one last weekend at the lake cabin in their family for generations, a beach house, or camping, but at our house, the last weekend of summer included the Jerry Lewis Muscular Dystrophy telethon and the Fitchburg summer grand finale, the Saint Joseph’s Bazaar.  

The weather on the first day of school was always a wild card. We might be walking to school in 80-degree weather or temperatures that were dramatically cooler, but the weather didn’t alter the first day of school outfit. That carefully curated ensemble was as sacred as the new outfits for Christmas and Easter.

August feels different, but September still feels a little bit fresh and new and more like the start of a new year than the actual new year on January first. Even a zillion years after last being in a formal school program, I think of September as the beginning of a new chapter and I suddenly want new spiral bound notebooks and pencils and maybe a new outfit or ten. And shoes. 

Despite the fun and anticipation, there was one dreaded school preparation item in my world and it was the gym uniform. Those were the stupidest, ugliest, most ill-fitting one-piece punishment ever designed to inflict pain upon girls in the school system. Ours were in a maroon tee shirt knit fabric, solid color below the elastic waist, and thin horizontal stripes above. The stupid thing would shrink in the wash and practically bisect you when raising your arms, making volleyball extra fun. I definitely don’t miss those stupid back-to-school furnishings.