Sara Marberry

I’m not exactly sure when the Aztec calendar appeared above the family room fireplace in my childhood home in Normal, Illinois, but it was a fixture for nearly 20 years.

At one point, my parents hired an interior decorator to do a refresh of our family room. She tried to persuade them to retire the Aztec calendar, but Dad said no. The mathematician in him liked it.

And so it remained above the fireplace, joined by a large scythe, cowbells, and a horseshoe Dad had found on my grandparents’ farm. He painted the wood handle of the scythe white and the blade gold and also painted the horseshoe gold.

The contrast between a faux stone calendar used by the Pre-Columbian people of Mexico and a gussied-up old farm implement, cow tracer, and shoe worn by a plow horse seemed strange to me. But somehow it worked.

Then my parents moved from the house in Normal to a house on nearby Lake Bloomington. Despite my father’s affinity for it, the Aztec calendar didn’t become part of the décor in the new place. It was boxed up and stored for 25 years.

When I discovered the piece as I was helping my parents downsize, I knew I had to have it.

So now this object that’s part of my family lore hangs on the wall of my screened-in porch. Where it will stay until I give it to my son, which hopefully won’t be anytime soon.