Come Saturday Morning: The Sandpipers & The Mystic Mood Orchestra
Posted September 12, 2026 by katryCategories: Video
Buckle up! This is a long one.
“Oh my sweet Saturday, I have been waiting for you for six long days”
Posted September 12, 2026 by katryCategories: Musings
The weather is fall perfect. It is 72° and beautifully sunny. The light glints through the still green leaves. A slight breeze blows the smallest branches. My house is chilly. It holds the cool air from the nighttime when the temperature goes down to the mid or low 60’s. I do have two dogs with me in bed every night who keep me warm, but I pay for that. They take up most of the room.
This morning I spent some time on the Coffee dashboard. I checked the map to see which countries had the most viewers. I was astonished to find number one is China by a wide margin. The US is second. India had one viewer.
Saturday has always been my favorite day. When I was a kid, Saturday had a pattern. I was up early, filled my bowl with milk and cereal, usually Rice Krispies, then I’d plunk down in front of the TV to watch cartoons and TV shows like Fury, Sky King, Sergeant Preston, Howdy Doody and Kukla, Fran and Ollie. I’d watch a while then grab my bike to start an adventure. I never had a plan. I just rode. If something caught my eye, I’d stop. I’d eat lunch on the road. Sometimes I went to the library. When the weather changed and fall fell into winter, I’d go to the matinee or ice skate or go sledding if we had snow. I filled my Saturdays. I loved Saturday nights as we got to stay up later. When I was older, I’d sleep in on Saturdays. In the afternoon, I’d sometimes meet friends. On Saturday nights we’d get together often at one of our houses. We had fun being together.
In Ghana, Saturday started slowly. I’d have my breakfast then maybe read a little or write letters home. I’d go into town. If it was market day, I’d shop the tables. I’d bring my stretchy shepherd’s bag and fill it with fruit, tomatoes and onions and beef from the meat market. The bag got bottom heavy. Before I got my motor cycle, I’d start walking home. Someone always stopped and gave me a ride. Saturday nights were my favorite nights. It was a fun night. One Saturday night might have tribal dancing. Each tribe would have its own spot for their tribal dancing. I’d wander the school grounds and watch. Once in a while they’d be a movie compliments of the USAID guy who would periodically drop by my town. I remember the movie that showed flies walking in poop then walking on food. It was a cartoon. My students loved it. Another night was in the dining room with all the tables and chairs moved out. It was a dance night. Music boomed, and my students, all females, danced with each other. They sang along loudly. I remember them singing at the tops of their voice, “Say it loud. I’m black and proud.”
I’ll stop here, and keep you on the edges of your seats as to the Saturdays when I was older. I will admit I now enjoy a nap on Saturday afternoons.
“Nothing is made in vain, but the fly came near it.”
Posted September 11, 2026 by katryCategories: Musings
Tags: brownies, Coasters, Peace Corps
The day is beautiful. It is 70° right now with a small breeze from the north, always the chilliest breeze. I shut the window behind me. The dogs haven’t had their morning naps yet. Henry loudly and annoyingly barked at the mailman when he delivered across the street. Nala tried to nap, but Henry’s barking had her intrigued so she got up and checked. I suspect her tacit reaction was how silly Henry is. I agree.
When I was in the second grade, I joined the Brownies. My mother and I took the bus and went to the Jordan Marsh in Malden where we bought my Brownie uniform, my brown tam, a belt and a dark brown coin purse which hung off the belt. On the day I had a troop meeting, I got to wear my Brownie uniform instead of my school uniform. That made being a Brownie special. I remember we started every troop meeting by saying the Girl Scout promise while our right hands made the Girl Scout salute. I remember feeling so proud when I marched in uniform in the town’s Memorial Day parade. I remember the small crowds along the parade route. People clapped and parents yelled their kids names. I would immortalize the event when I told my parents, “Everyone was out of step except me.”
I have never been afraid of bugs. I always thought the girls who screamed were silly. When I was growing up, bugs intrigued me. I’d watch them and wonder. I wondered how fireflies were able to light, how did the most beautiful butterflies came from cocoons and did brown grasshoppers really leave poop on my hand when I held them. Dragonflies were fascinating the way they flitted back and forth across the top of the water in the swamp. We called them sewing needle bugs. We’d scare the little kids by telling them the bugs would sew their lips shut as a punishment for a variety of infractions. That was easy to believe as they did look as if they could.
Sometimes I’ll see a gnat floating in my coffee cup. I’ll just slide it out and toss it. It was in Ghana where I learned not to be disgusted by floating bugs or the weevils in my flour. I’d just pick out the gnats and sift out the flour weevils. We never got all of the weevils out of the flour so we jokingly called the rest protein. In Ghana drinks are delivered with coasters. Being an American, I put them under my glass. Ghanaians put them over the tops of their glasses. I didn’t learn for the longest time that the top loaded coasters kept out the gnats.
Today I m going to vacuum, polish a bit and load more trash into the trunk. I went to the dump the other day and hope to go again. I still have trash bags on the deck. Ignoring them doesn’t work.
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