I’d fallen into a rut.

Every year without fail I’d stock up (hoping to get back to the calendar store early in January when the prices fell) on my same old calendars: the inspiring (truly) Inner Bitch in the bedroom and Dave Barry in the kitchen (later relegated to the bathroom where I had more time for reading).

Barry was generally amusing and his crazy days for celebration were fodder for a number of my Musings. All old and probably recycled from his popular columns, while I enjoyed his voice I figured it might be time to move on. At the same time my Inner Bitch had grown less inspirational — at least to me.

This year when a favored catalogue offered pages of daily tear-away calendars on sale, I hesitated only long enough to decide on the ultimate three.

Gathering now my almost three years’ worth of days still remaining in 2017, I immediately see that not one of them has a name. The printer may have been on to something for my patience is already tried.

Whatever I picked for the bedroom, I know I was looking for inspiration to get each morning off to a bright start. “Bright” — yes, for each page is wildly illustrated. But inspiration? “Life is a beautiful ride.” “Ready Set Go.” “Slow Dazzle.” “Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in.” Was Thoreau really that mundane? “Get Busy Livin’.” Jeepers, I thought I was.

Good advice won out for the bathroom. “A centipede doesn’t stop for a game leg.” “Ask any athlete. We all hurt at times,” this attributed to Jackie Joyner-Kersee. It was starting to sound like General Hospital. Or this from George Eliot who left me scratching my head: “It never rains roses; when we want to have more roses, we must plant more trees.” I suspect I’m missing something.

The kitchen got a joke-a-day. How could I possibly miss on that? I also hoped to stock up for a column I would eventually write on humor. Let’s just say I didn’t expect every daily joke to be geared to the youngest kids old enough to get jokes. “What does a caterpillar do on New Year’s Day? It turns over a new leaf.” “What do you get when you cross boxer shorts with a chameleon? Underwear that changes itself.” “A fish walks into a bar. The bartender asks, ‘What’ll you have?’ The fish croaks, ‘Water!'”

Dave Barry, I definitely miss your voice. I even miss the older Sudoku dailies. (I discontinued that when my cache of extra puzzles filled a box. I simply run out of time. As long as I stay healthy, I don’t imagine I’ll ever get through them all — plus I do try to keep up with the daily puzzle in the newspapers and the weekly one in the TV section.

I sit here, facing a new year and already scratching my head as I anticipate a full year of all this twaddle. No, they never will become marvelous. I refuse — rightly — to let my brain get that befuddled.

Next year I think I’ll ante up and go find Dave Barry and, perhaps, a daily peek at one golden retriever could be pleasant. Not inspiring nor hilarious but at least I would have to pause each time I pass bed, bath or kitchen. (The boxes were wrapped and waiting beneath my tree. I’ll never tell!)

On the other hand, unlike Mr. Barry, these calendars are white on the backside so I now possess more than a thousand blank pages for all those notes and reminders I continue to make. I can imagine being inundated if I don’t keep pace.

So really, I can’t afford to break the habit now.

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Susan Crossett has lived outside Cassadaga for more than 20 years. A lifetime of writing led to these columns as well as two novels. Her Reason for Being was published in 2008 with Love in Three Acts following in 2014. Both novels are now available at Lakewood’s Off the Beaten Path bookstore. Information on all the Musings, her books and the author may be found at Susancrossett.com.