The morning is fall at 63°. We have a bright sun and a mostly blue sky. I have chores. Mainly I have to vacuum. I can’t walk down the hall without hair balls flying into the air. This is a dusty house.

I found one of my political buttons, one I hadn’t added to the framed collection of buttons hanging in the hall. Those buttons are for democratic candidates going as far back as Kennedy. The one I found in the drawer was one I had picked up just to collect, never to wear. The button is huge, round, sort of the size of a small pancake. In the middle is a smiling Richard Nixon. That alone is scary enough. Around the button it says at the top, “Nixon’s The One.” At the bottom it says, “Nixon For President.” It is from the 1960 election. I remember getting the button at the Nixon political headquarters, a store front, in my town. I was in the eighth grade. It was the first election to which I not only paid attention but also favored a candidate.

In the eighth grade, we had a field trip to the Museum of Science. That was a big event as it was the first and only field trip we ever had. We were given a worksheet with several questions relating to the exhibits. It seemed daunting. I had the idea that my friends and I would divide the questions and then share our answers. Because the answers were right out in the open for the finding, we had no qualms. We completed the entire sheet. We even saved enough time we watch some of the events. I remember sitting on the floor and watching Spooky the Owl. I was amazed when he could spin his head and flap his wings on command.

When I was in high school, a few of my friends and I went to Boston to see the movie Cleopatra. I remember we all got dressed up for our trip to the city. We were chauffeured in town by the bus and the subway. We walked from the subway stop to the Music Hall, now the Wang, to see the movie. I was awed by how beautiful and fancy the theater was. It had chandeliers and murals on the walls and ceiling and private balcony seating along the sides. The ladies’ room even had regal red velvet covered lounges. I sat on one for a while luxuriating in the elegance. I’ve never been to a more beautiful ladies’ room.

Such a lovely day! It is 72° and sunny. Last night it rained for a bit, little enough the dogs didn’t mind. I didn’t hear the rain. It was only Nala’s wet coat which let me know. This has been a slow morning. My TV keeps losing the Wi-Fi network, and it constantly buffers. I spent a while trying to figure out how to fix it. I was all over the place following suggestions. I hope I found the answer. If I haven’t, you’ll hear me screaming, even a few obscenities.

I just don’t want to do anything today, but I have to go out. My trunk already has some trash, and I need to add more then I’ll be off to the dump. I have no bread and Jack needs canned food. That means a stop at the grocery store. I’m not happy, but each is necessary. I miss my morning toast and Jack loves his canned food.

I have moments that fill my memory drawers. Some I could label surprises, happenings I didn’t expect or imagine. Others had always been wishes, some even expectations. I have images, pictures saved in their own drawers. They make me smile. They help me remember.

I think every Christmas of my childhood is in those drawers. I don’t remember ever being disappointed. I remember when I got my bike. I took it out on Christmas morning. We have a picture of me standing with it by the steps. My grin is almost too wide for the picture. I remember my first transistor radio. I can still see it in my mind’s eye. One Christmas, when I was maybe ten, I got this great new outfit of a skirt and fluffy sweater. I also got a gold medallion on a gold chain. I put everything on as soon as I opened it. I wore it to church that Christmas morning. I wanted everyone to notice. So many more Christmases are crammed into those drawers. Some are from when I was older. One of my favorites is my first Christmas in Ghana. I thought being away from home at Christmas would be the worst. It wasn’t.

My dad drove up Mount Washington. I remember looking over the side at how far up we were. I remember taking pause and being nervous when a car driving by our car on the inside of the road passed us. I remember how cold it was on top of the mountain. The hairpin turn on the Mohawk Trail was amazing. I kept looking out the back window to see where we’d been. The Eisenhower Locks are in one memory drawer. I watched as a ship went through. Later, the Panama Canal reminded me of that lock. My own travels fill drawer after drawer. First was Africa. I never thought I’d travel to Africa. I hold on so tightly to those years, to all the memories. I did Europe. That seemed a rite of passage for my generation. You had to include a backpack.

I have to stop here or I’ll go on forever.