If this were a real almanac, I'd be making an entry every day. No. Because this is a real almanac (as opposed to an ideal one), I don't make an entry every day. But I still feel responsible for the days that get lost in The Meanwhile—which is really no meaner than the Good While, which people are often generous to ("I swam laps/wrote letters/played Chopin for a Good While") but usually never meet ("I' waited in front of Schrafft's for quite a Good While!")
Meanwhile, things happened. On Wednesday, friends Anne and Peggy lured me back to Lower Mystic Lake. The bald eagles have apparently decided the time was ripe to leave for points north. But we were happy with a white-breasted nuthatch yanking up and down a tree like an arboreal tugboat. You know, life was lived, those days counted, too. So why did they get meanwhiled, while this day doesn't, Mr. Time?
Because, Skippy, time needs to refresh itself. I remember a game we used to play called "Meanwhile." Someone would start a story, as crazy and complicated as they wanted. "Once there was an elf named Leo who lived in a cave on Mt. Lilimanjaro. Not Kilimanjaro--Lilimanjaro. And he had a sweet tooth, and it was so sweet that it never gave him any trouble until one day it said, 'Leo, go down to the valley and get me a box of figgy raisin bars!' Meanwhile--"
And then the second person starts an entirely different story. "Meanwhile, in a kingdom several mountains away, an evil duke was plotting revenge." And so it would go, sometimes one story line looping around to an earlier one, but usually each story veering off into its own world, because that's what meanwhiles are meant to do, Skippy, take a side track and don't look back. Understand?
Skippy (still puzzled): Yeah...but what happened to Leo the elf?
(Cue raucous silly Mr. Time music.)
That's all the time we have time for, kids. Meanwhile, don't forget to take your time so you can give your time to others!!! (Throws big air kiss to audience. They duck. Air kiss travels out studio door, through lobby, out theater door, into street, where it strikes evil duke on forehead, changing him for the better for approximately ten minutes.)