Front Porch: The writing is on the wall calendar - and it’s going to stay there

I read a little thing online that both amused and somewhat irritated me – “Is there anyone out there who still writes appointments down on a wall calendar?” – the inference, of course, being how quaint and so yesterday that must be. Smile sweetly if you do.

Smiling here, but not all that sweetly.

My answer is – Pardon me, but does the sun still rise in the east?

Not only is there one wall calendar in our house, there are actually two, and, in an adjacent way, three. There’s my husband’s calendar, hanging over his desk, on which his doctors’ and other appointments are noted, along with other social events or appointments of mine that require his presence. It exists so that he doesn’t schedule any jobs for times when he needs to be elsewhere.

His jobs are noted on individual pieces of paper clipped to what a friend described as his Montana laptop – a clipboard, 81/2-by-11-inch note pad, file folders and invoices – which he works off of and carries with him. Laugh if you will, but the system has supported his business for 35 years.

I suppose that counts as another calendar of sorts, but I don’t include it in the official count, because I have nothing to do with it. Also omitted from inclusion is the wall calendar in the laundry area, which is pretty, but upon which I write nothing. It’s there because it’s a nice spot of color, and you never know when you’re going to want to know what day it is when you’re moving wet clothing from the washer to the dryer.

There exists also the official master calendar, hanging on a wall in the kitchen, which has every appointment, meeting or date with friends on it, for both of us. This also includes advance-planning appointments scheduled for near the end of the year. This is where my husband checks to see where I am on any given day if he comes home and I’m not here and he doesn’t recall where I told him I’d be (not that I always do that, as unscheduled and spur-of-the minute things come up all the time).

Yes, he could text me if needed, but that involves the use of technology for reasons other than work, which is not his specialty. He’s still very much an analog man who figures I’ll show up eventually, which, so far, I’ve managed to do.

And the third “official” calendar is in the form of a small daily planner (this is the wall-adjacent one), which I try to carry with me most of the time. I often accompany Bruce to his medical things, so I need to stay up to speed on all the dates, and if I make an appointment for either of us when I’m away from home (far enough out that it won’t interfere with his job-scheduling notes), I check the mini-calendar for conflicts and write it down there.

I reconcile calendars whenever there’s been a change on any one of them. Everything’s in pencil, as things do change.

Is that a lot of work and a bit annoying? Sure. But I know this way that we’re both covered on everything. I am the Calendar Queen in our household, so if something goes awry, it’s on me.

Many a friend has touted the convenience of online calendars, often willing to provide demonstrations. Yes, yes, I know, but Bruce and I have a mixed marriage concerning the use of technology, so it’s easier to stick with what we know works for us both.

So, when I see such silly questions about “still” having a wall calendar (not to mention multiples), all I can do is scoff. Who can not have one (or more), I ask in return.

And this brings me to the latest query that has crossed my path online – “How much time do you debate with yourself over keeping a cardboard box because it’s a really good box?”

Please, don’t get me started.

Voices correspondent Stefanie Pettit can be reached by email at upwindsailor@comcast.net