It is a bright, sunny day. Fall warmth will continue today. The high should be 68°. That means deck weather with a good book and a cup of coffee. The dogs stay out longer in this weather. Nala lies in the sun while Henry sniffs and wanders the yard.

Saturday has always been my favorite day of the week. When I was a kid, it was my day to wander, to bike ride even as far as the zoo, to see a movie or ice skate. When I was older, my friends and I usually spent the evening together. We’d bowl, or sit around and play board games, go miniature golfing and sometimes even go to a nighttime movie. When we became mobile, we go to the drive-in or drag our toboggan to go sledding. In Ghana, I’d go to town where I’d shop at the market hoping for some finds or to buy cloth. I’d stop for lunch at the Hotel d’Bull, the hot spot in town. Kebabs were cheap, and the hotel always had cold Coke, a rarity. When I was teaching, I never did school work on a Saturday. I didn’t correct papers or prepare lessons. It was my official day off. Sometimes my friends and I would get together for dinner or games or just to spend time with each other. Since I’ve been retired, I always say every day is Saturday.

I finally got my Oreos. I decided to forego the traditional, was brave and went with the Halloween orange cream. The package glows in the dark. I mean, really, who can pass up a glow in the dark Oreo package?

I went to St. Patrick’s Grammar School from grade one to grade eight. I never went to kindergarten. No one I knew did. Almost everyone in my neighborhood went to St. Pat’s. The East School was the nearest public school, but I never expected to go there. St. Pat’s was an old brick building. It had opened in 1910. The Sisters of Providence started teaching there at the start and were still there when I went into first grade. I found the nuns intimidating. I think it was their black habits which covered everything except their faces and hands. They didn’t seem like regular people. They were nuns, their own category.

Last night my neighbor’s back light was on but not their house lights. My lights were all on, the string of white lights on the deck rail and the lights in my house. All the other houses were dark. I stood on the deck for a bit when the dogs last went out. The night wasn’t quiet. I could hear crickets. There was a bit of a chill in the air but my sweatshirt was enough. It got colder by the time I went to bed. Each day has been similar, warm during the day and chilly at night. Soon enough chilly will be the weather every day.

We’re in for another beautiful fall day, in the high 60’s. The sun is bright. Nala is out. She has her sleeping spot in the yard in the sun. Her fur is warm when she comes inside. Last night when it got down to the 40’s, she snuggled. I think she is epitome of creature comfort.

I was entertained last night by really bad black and white science fiction movies, my favorites. First up was The Slime People. It was released in 1963. The second was The Beach Girls and The Monster. I think I just gave away the whole plot.

When I was a kid, I had a TV in my bedroom. It was an old one my parents had replaced with a new TV for their bedroom. It was portable but not small or light. It had a handle on the top. The TV sat on my bureau, and I could lie in bed and watch it. I used to watch a program or two before going to sleep. I remember The House of Wax, a released 3D movie. One scene scared me so much I ran into my parents’ room. Vincent Price was the bad guy. He wore a wax face to cover scars from a fire and nobody knew. His House of Wax figures were actually dead people whom he had murdered. At one point the main female character, Sue, recognized the face of one wax figure as her friend Cathy’s. It was made from her corpse. Sue whacked Price and his wax face fell off. That sent me running.

On the beach, the soon to be killed girls all wore swim caps. Some caps were decorated with rubber flowers on top. I remember having to wear one at the pool. It was hot to wear and sometimes difficult to get off if the inside got wet. They were never attractive.

Somehow thinking about those caps has led me to garter belts. I remember fastening the tops of my nylons to the belt with clips. They kept the nylons from slipping. I also remember the times when a clip flew out of my hand and hit me in the leg. It was painful. The garter belt was never comfortable.

I used to have to curl my hair with foam rollers. Mostly I’d wear them to bed. When I did, I didn’t sleep well because my head couldn’t lie flat on the pillow. I’d toss and turn all night. When I complained about it, my mother said, “Pain for beauty.”