The sun is squint your eyes bright and is surrounded by the bluest sky. Little is moving. It is 65°. The day is quiet which surprises me for a Saturday. It is the perfect day to hunt for stolen objects in the yard. Another mouse trap has disappeared. It was baited with peanut butter, and I thought I hid it well, but nothing stays hidden from the intrepid Nala. I swear she’d find El Dorado.

When I was a kid, the future was only a few days away except for the countdown events like Halloween and Christmas. I never planned the weekends except on those winter days when I’d go to the movies. My theater showed a newsreel and a cartoon first. The movies were never first run. I saw The Wizard of Oz there in the late 1950’s. When it turned to color over the rainbow, there was a collective gasp from the audience as if we were watching something magical. The theater was always noisy, and we readily booed and cheered. Candy often flew through the air though Al, the owner, was vigilant. He was an aisle patroller.

I remember the back row of that theater. High school couples sat there. They were kissing which I found both disgusting and mystifying. I didn’t realize until much later they were young teens who didn’t drive and needed their own sort of lover’s lane, but a Saturday matinee seemed a strange choice.

My Girl Scout troop sponsored a nighttime fundraising movie event. We served as hostesses and wore our uniforms which were green skirts, white blouses, tams and our badge sashes. I remember how excited I was. Looking back I didn’t realize that it was a poor movie choice, one which didn’t bring in the crowds, Our Lady of Fatima. If she had been chased by a slasher, it would have been far more popular though probably religiously offensive, but I have been to Fatima. The streets surrounding the shrine are filled with kiosks and shops selling offensive but oddly appealing religious souvenirs. If I didn’t have to haul it in my suitcase for the rest of the holiday, I would have bought the ceramic statue of Mary on a hill surrounded by blinking colored lights. I still regret leaving it on the shelf.

I have a few errands today including the dump. I have been hauling bags down from upstairs one step at a time because they are heavy with used litter. They just need to be hauled or rather dragged to the car. Gone are the days of carrying two bags at a time to the trunk. I miss those days.

My storm doors will sit in the cellar. The weather today is the best of late summer with a current temperature of 75°. I’ve even opened a window. The slight breeze is enough for my outside chimes to play. The air is filled with sweetness of that sound. 

This morning, I brought trash to the car, swept down the inside stairs, carried laundry and coolers to return to friends to the car and then spent an almost endless time on the phone to refill prescriptions. First, I found out I had refills then I called the pharmacy. It is currently closed with no further information. I called another pharmacy in a different town. I waited 8 minutes on hold then 5 minutes with the phone ringing before I was disconnected. The air around me turned a bit blue. I spoke to the chat on-line and was able to switch pharmacies, order refills and also book my fall vaccinations. Not only all of that, I ordered groceries at 1 am this morning. They were just delivered and I put them away. Now in the scheme of things, my list may seem short, but, for me, it has been the busiest of mornings.

It is this time of year I most grateful for being retired. I get to sit outside in the sun. I get to have a couple of cups of coffee, read the Cape Times and do all three puzzles in the paper. I use those puzzles as barometers. When I complete them, I know my brain cells are still whirling and twirling. Anyway, I am thinking maybe a ride down cape is in order. It is the perfect day. I think this time I’ll take all lefts and see where they lead me.

When I was a kid, like most, families, we had only one car which my father drove to work every week day. On Saturdays he did his own errands, the Chinese laundry with his white shirts he aways wore with his suits, the barber shop for a trim and a few stops to say hi to friends at their stores. On Sundays, he ushered at church and sometimes drove us to my grandparents’ house. My mother didn’t drive. To close places, like uptown, she walked. Sometimes we’d take a bus to visit her sister and her family in Malden or a bus then the subway to East Boston and sometimes in-town to Jordan Marsh. Thinking back, we were like ducklings, trailing my mother or Madeline following the nuns. I remember wishing I had time for more than glancing looks at all the store windows and shops. I was the country mouse in the big city.

I have nothing actually scheduled for the next few days. I’m thinking the ride today and tomorrow the dump. That will give me something to look forward to say I with tongue in cheek.