The wind is so strong and constant it is blowing everything, even the biggest branches, and the trees and leaves are noisy. Last night it rained, but now it is sunny. It is 76°. A thunderstorm is predicted for later, but, with the sunshine, that seems remote. I have an outside concert today so I need to keep an eye on the weather.

The spiders are here. Webs are everywhere. Even the tiniest spider is busy weaving. From here in the den I can see a couple of webs close to the ceiling and another hanging down from the wood around the door. That one is bothering me. It won’t last much longer.

Summers when I was a kid were busy. On weekdays I was always home for breakfast and supper but only sometimes for lunch as I often took lunch on the road. I made a sandwich, added cookies or chips and used a peanut butter jar for my ZaRex. Orange was the usual syrup flavor. ZaRex came in glass jugs, moonshine looking jugs, the sort Snuffy Smith used for his brew. I’d make a pitcher full, often using the colored pitcher made out of aluminum, the one with accompanying colorful glasses. It kept the ZaRex really cold. The outside of it was usually covered in condensation. I remember there was always ZaRex. My father called it bug juice.

The first sport I understood was baseball, nine innings, three outs for each side per inning. I was older before I learned nuisances like the infield fly rule, a sacrifice bunt or defensive indifference on a steal, strategic plays. The bleachers at Fenway were cheap. The T-station was close. We’d spend a day at the park. When I was a kid, the Sox weren’t very good, but I didn’t care. I loved baseball, the Red Sox and Fenway Park.

I had a friend who collected baseball cards, the only girl I knew who did. She kept her cards in boxes sorted by teams and stored under her bed. When I visited, she’d pull out her newest cards and her current favorites to show me. She went to a different school than I did after 8th grade. I lost track of her and always wondered what happened to her and her cards.

Cloudy days tend to be busy days. The house is cooler so I don’t have the heat as an excuse to be a sloth. Chores are easier to finish. I sweep and polish. I brush away the webs. I clean the appliances on the counter and the outside of the fridge, chores I seldom do. I’ll read or nap in the afternoon. I earned the idleness.

The day is hazy, humid and cloudy. It is 79°. Showers are predicted for tonight. The fan is keeping us cool in the thick, hot air. Nala is deep asleep on the couch. Henry is asleep on the floor in the breeze from the back door. I suspect he thinks he’s roughing it. I think today is a perfect sloth day.

Henry is suspicious when I open the door to let him inside the house. He wonders if his infection is going to get sprayed or if his eyes are to have anti-itch cream rubbed around them. I keep him wondering. Sometimes he gets one while other times he gets both, and then there are times he gets neither. That was this morning. I’ll get him later.

I remember having to wear a bathing cap in the town pool. It was sort of like a head girdle as it was rubber and difficult to stretch. Getting it off was even more difficult, it being wet and all. I never understood the need for it.

I am watching the 1954 movie Monster from the Ocean Floor. It is wonderfully bad and filled with stereotypes typical back then. I was thrilled to find a 50’s black and white science fiction movie I’ve never seen. Now I need popcorn.

When I was a kid, Sunday was always a special day. I had to go to mass. Usually I walked. I went to the downstairs mass. It was always shorter than upstairs as often there wasn’t a sermon. It was also really crowded. People decided short was better than pious. I stayed around the house after mass, no exploring. I waited for Sunday dinner, the best meal of the week. The house always had an amazing aroma when dinner was cooking. My favorite was a roast beef or as my grandmother jokingly called it a-roasta-beefa. I never thought it funny but smiled anyway. I still love mashed potatoes drowned in gravy. They were the Sunday dinner staple. The vegetables changed though peas appeared most often followed closely by corn, niblet corn. Sometimes we had brownies for dessert. My mother’s brownies were the best. She frosted them with chocolate frosting and sprinkled them with jimmies. I always liked the crusty corner.

My dance card is uke heavy this week. I have my usual practice and lesson and two concerts. We are playing the color book and practicing Motown for next week. I have no choice but to dress in outside clothes and leave the house. Goodbye cozies!