Thirty days has September, April, June and November. February has 28t alone; all the rest have 31. Excepting Leap Year, that’s the time when February’s days are 29.

A helpful little poem that reminds you the number of days in each month — that is, if you are younger than 60.

Once you reach 60, the hands on the clock begin to spin out of control like a whirligig in a hurricane. Months feel as though they are only a week long. Weeks feel far less than seven days, and there aren’t a full  24 hours in a day, or so it seems. 

Forgive the generalization, I should have said the days fly by if you are in reasonably good health. I know for those in poor health who might be in an assisted-living situation, disabled or who suffer from some form of dementia, time likely stands still, and that is certainly regrettable; but I find that most baby boomers are either still working or retired and living life to the fullest. 

From what I’ve observed, the key is to stay busy and even more importantly, keep moving.

I spoke this week with a woman in her 90s who had just picked up tree limbs and branches that had fallen during recent storms, built a fire and burned them and then mowed the better part of an acre of land.

She said she was “a little tired” but that it was “a good tired.” I asked her to what she attributes her ability to keep going at her age and she said, “I can either stop and sit in a rocking chair and wait to die, or I can keep moving.” 

She also does crossword puzzles every day to keep her mind sharp. 

Friends who retired before me warned, “You’ll soon get bored. Days will drag on forever.”

I guess that could be true if you don’t stay motivated and active, but I haven’t found it to be the case for me. I work long hours seven days a week as a writer and have a schedule that keeps my mind and my hands active.

If anything, it seems there aren’t enough hours in the day.

Holidays and birthdays seem to come more than once a year. Children and grandchildren grow up at an astonishing rate. One day, you’re teaching them to ride a bike and the next they are driving away in a limo to a life of their own.

I feel, as seniors, we can’t afford to slow down, because time is ticking away. Rather than rocking away the time that remains, we need to pedal faster.

DON’T BLINK

A poem by A. Carmichael

The calendar pages flip by too fast,

Days, months and years just

Don’t seem to last.

It takes but a minute or possibly two

Before one year ends and another is new.

So, don’t blink

Or you’ll miss it,

Life’s fleeting that way.

Don’t put off till tomorrow

What you could do today.

Anne Carmichael is a lifestyle columnist and contributes often to The Jessamine Journal.