I apologize for being missing. Tuesday was medical day. I now have the cleanest teeth. From there I went to a drop in medical center to have my leg checked. It was a fiasco. I left after an hour having seen no one. I don’t want to go into it, but the woman at the counter is lucky. I wanted to unleash a firestorm of sarcasm when she asked me what I wanted. My first instinct was to say to check the comfort of the stairs and what is on TV but I bit my tongue instead. It bled profusely. I left to go down cape to Fontaine in Harwich. It was perfect. My leg has nothing broken, but it will take weeks to heal. I’m relieved. It was late afternoon by the time I got home.

Today is an ugly day. It is chilly, and it will rain. I have been so busy of late my poor sloth is muttering to herself. My dogs wonder who I am. Jack ignores me except when I give him his treats. My only free day is Saturday.

The cardinal couple is still around. They are building a nest. I saw the male with a tiny stick in his mouth. This morning I noticed two mourning doves lying in the front garden. A blue jay flew by. What a lovely way to start the day.

One of my first memories is an Easter Sunday when I was 3. We lived in an apartment complex in South Boston. I was wearing my Easter clothes and was outside when one of our neighbors wanted to take a picture. I remember being a bit shy about it, not usual for me, and I can see the shyness in the tilt of my head, and the way I am standing. The picture is black and white, but I remember my coat was blue. It had white buttons. I am also wearing patent leather shoes with a strap, white ankle socks, a round hat and white gloves. I don’t think I have ever been fancier.

When I was in high school, I had a teacher who alternated between two suits. We made fun of her and decided one was her summer-spring outfit while the other was fall-winter. I have become that teacher. I have two dresses, one for winter and another for spring. They are both flowered. If I added clunky, laced black shoes, I could be my grandmother.

I have a concert this afternoon at a new place. It is still Beach Boys’ music month. I will wear a Hawaiian shirt, a straw hat I bought in Marrakech and some colorful leis. I figure this gloomy day needs a touch of color.

Today would be a far better April day. It is damp, cloudy and cold. The morning has been slow. I hadn’t the incentive or the energy to do anything. The house was cold. I was cold. I didn’t turn on the heat. It is May. I sit fine but getting up is painful. I banged my cut thumb. I yelped. It hurt. I keep finding mice. I think there is a never ending supply under the bed in Jack’s room. Yesterday I vacuumed the whole downstairs and swept the kitchen. It was exhausting.

I’m thinking I should stop listing my ills and my complaints. I figure you’ve already figured out my mood. It perfectly matches the day. I even screamed a couple of times. Nala cocked her head, looked at me and wagged her tail, her way of telling me she cares. Henry watched with what I think was a look of concern.

I have no real heavy chores for today. I’m going to clean the silver utensils on the butcher’s block, maybe a silly task but one I can do sitting down and can see the end result, the beauty of the old silver filagree. I’m going to change my bed and take a shower.

The sun is breaking through the clouds. I decided to turn on the heat. I had no reason other than inviting misery to stay cold. I had another cup of coffee and toast with fig jam. I have decided to turn around the day.

When I first finished training and went to live at my school in Ghana, it was quite the transition. I had lost the friends I had made and the comfort of a shared experience. We all gone our separate ways. I was living alone for the first time. I did not teach well. I spoke too quickly with an American accent. I was lonely. I wrote letters describing my life, all I was seeing, the wonder of Ghana and how every day was amazing. I stayed away from how I was feeling only because I didn’t want to stress out my parents. I then started to write letters about how I really felt, but I tore them up when I was finished. They gave me a release. I started to figure out teaching. I got good at it. I got busy. I loved waking up every morning to a new day.

Today Coffee is the letters I tore up. I already feel better. Thanks for listening, sort of listening!