Saturday, September 2, 2017

A Place for Work on Labor Day



In 1894, Congress officially proclaimed Labor Day to be celebrated on the first Monday in September.  It was created following several years of civic and regional planning by local labor movements that swept across the United States. Their goal was to dedicate a holiday that acknowledged the social and economic achievements of American workers.

Labor Day is considered by many to be the last weekend of the summer season although officially the autumn equinox doesn’t occur until September 21st.

I have understood the noun “labor” to mean “HARD work”.  Rett and I experience plenty of work at Merry Mount, but it is seldom that we labor.  Perhaps, mucking the stalls, cleaning the chicken coop, or hoeing the garden in high humidity verges on labor, but in general, the work that we do is a “labor of love” -for we enjoy the nature of the goats, the taste of the eggs, and the bounty of the harvest from the garden.

Results and Roses

The man [or woman] who wants a garden fair,
    Or small or very big,
With flowers growing here and there,
    Must bend his back and dig.

The things are mighty few on earth
    That wishes can attain.
Whate'er we want of any worth
    We've got to work to gain.

It matters not what goal you seek
    Its secret here reposes:
You've got to dig from week to week
    To get Results or Roses.

            -Edgar Guest

Rett working in the garden
Rett's "Elegant Lady"
from Rett's rose garden
Rett and I have had the good fortune of “working” in a profession as college professors.  While the pay is comparatively low, the “work” is couched in an art form of great beauty.  We were and are able to share our knowledge of music with students eager to learn.  As we approach retirement, we have gratitude for the jobs we hold, but look forward to the time when we have more freedom to choose when we work and when we rest.  We currently have a saying written on the blackboard at Merry Mount:


Dad had a philosophy of how to live one’s life:

Work hard for eight hours,
Play hard for eight hours,
Sleep well for eight hours.

Fortunately, I have arrived at the place in my life, in which that balance can be achieved.

In conclusion, on this Labor Day, we recognize the labor that people around us do so that our lives are more comfortable.  Let us as a society support those whose work is indeed labor.

They Earned the Right

I knew Ket and Knudsen, Zeller, Zeder and Breer.
I knew Henry Ford back yonder as a lightplant engineer.
I'm a knew-'em-when companion who frequently recalls
That none of the those big brothers were too proud for overalls.

All the Fishers, all the leaders, all the motion pioneers
Worked at molds or lathes or benches at the start of their careers.
Chrysler, Keller, Nash and others whom I could but now won't name
Had no high-falutin' notion ease and softness led to fame.

They had work to do and did it. Did it bravely, did it right,
Never thinking it important that their collars should be white.
Never counted hours of labor, never wished their tasks to cease,
And for years their two companions were those brothers, dirt and grease. 

Boy, this verse is fact, not fiction, all the fellows I have named
Worked for years for wages and were never once ashamed.
Dirt and grease were their companions, better friends than linen white;
Better friends than ease and softness, golf or dancing every night.

Now in evening clothes you see them in the nation's banquet halls.
But they earned the right to be there, years ago, in overalls.

            -Edgar Guest



Rest well today.

CPW



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