The paper isn’t published on Saturdays. My morning routine is discombobulated. I wander the house. I wonder what is happening in the world. I long for my puzzles and the comics. I know I can read the paper on-line, but that just doesn’t feel right. I need ink on my fingers. My day has gone awry.

The morning is beautiful, a little chilly but chilly is spring on Cape Cod. My den window gives me a small view of the world, my world anyway. I see clouds and I see sun. Everything is still. It is in the high 40’s where it will stay all day. The dogs have been out longer than usual. They are late for their morning naps. Their day has gone awry.

I was daydreaming this morning. What if I had three wishes? What would they be? Wishing for money would be easy, but I wouldn’t waste a wish on it. I’d wish to go back in time to relive a day or a night, not something huge but something shiny in my memory drawers. One of them would be a Saturday night in my parents’ kitchen. We’d all be at the table playing cards. My Uncle Jack is there, as he was so many Saturday nights. The air is smoky and the back door is open hoping to draw the smoke. On the counter is a temporary bar. Whoever gets up is the bartender. We’re playing high-low Jack. My father won the bid. He was a bid fiend. Toward the end of the game someone dropped a trump card, and he lost the hand, one he needed desperately. He started foaming at the mouth. He fell off the bench on his back. He was on the floor still holding his cards and yelling. We were all laughing so hard he stayed on the floor for a bit. Every time I remember I laugh.

My second wish would be to relive the trip to Belgium and the Netherlands with my parents and my sister Sheila. We laughed so many times. We stopped in a restaurant for lunch or dinner. I don’t remember. My mother and sister went to the bathroom. My father and I were reading the map figuring our next route. All of a sudden flames came through the middle of the map from the candle on the table we had paid no attention to. The crowd roared laughing. My mother and sister came back to the table and wanted to know why everyone was laughing. My father held up the map. That trip was filled with laughter.

My last wish would any evening in Bolga with my friends Bill and Peg. We ate dinner together every night. We laughed and chatted about our day, about going to the market or the meat store or about something one of our students said. We never tired of each other. After dinner we played games. We did the alphabet game with initials to which we had to attach a person’s name. We challenged each other with paddle ball, the wooden paddle with the red ball attached to the paddle with an elastic. It had come in one of the packages from my mother. We played so many times until the elastic broke. We played Password, another gift from my mother, so many times we had the cards memorized. When we challenged other people, we never lost, except on purpose.

This is the longest Coffee I have ever written, but I couldn’t stop. My muse was frenzied. My fingers flew. I was caught in my own memories. My day has no longer gone awry. It is a special day!

The nights are cold but the mornings are lovely with bright sun and blue skies. The backyard rough, Nala’s favorite spot to lie down, is getting warmed by the sun. I woke up, the start of our usual morning routine. The dogs harassed me out of bed. Nala is the worst. I pretended to be asleep, but she wasn’t buying it so I had no choice but to get out of bed. I went downstairs, let the dogs out then made my coffee. The dogs hurried back inside for their first treats of the day, peanut butter biscuits. I made toast. The dogs came back in, had another treat then went for their morning naps on the couch. I read the paper, ate my toast and had two cups of coffee. The morning was complete.

My afternoons are more haphazard. The dogs sort of dictate what happens. Nala goes in and out. Henry goes out, but I have to let him in. If I don’t see him, he whacks the dog door or sticks his head inside. If the front door is open, Henry watches and is ready to bark at my movement. Nala doesn’t care. Sometimes I don’t know where the dogs are. I check outside or call them. I feel sort of silly when I hear a dog hit the floor from upstairs on my bed.

My mornings in Ghana were also routine. They seldom varied. I woke up to the sounds of sweeping as my students swept around the buildings and the paths. I heard water hitting the metal buckets when the students were starting to take their bucket baths. I got up and got ready. I had my first cup of coffee in my giant mug then I taught my first class. After that, I went home for breakfast, two eggs and toast. The eggs were cooked in groundnut, peanut, oil and were delicious. In between the next two classes I went home and had more coffee. I sat out front on my steps, finished my coffee then walked back to the classroom block to teach another lesson. That was the end of my morning.

When I was a kid, there was no leash law, but Duke, our boxer, was kept inside in the mornings when we all walked to school, but sometimes he would escape. When he did, he’d follow us to St. Patrick’s or follow the kid next door to the East School. My father would try to catch him. He didn’t always. Duke would look at my father then keep running. That infuriated my father. It amused the rest of us.

My dance card is empty until next week. I have a few chores I’d like to finish but I won’t care if I don’t.