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.

I am a lover of mornings. The early sounds are bird songs. The dogs romp in the yard then nap on the couch. I read the paper and do the puzzles. The house smells of coffee brewing and bread toasting. I usually have a couple of cups of coffee. That’s how we begin the day.

The sun this morning was a bit late. The sky was cloudy and the air had a leftover dampness from last night, but the sun finally appeared framed in a blue sky. It is supposed to be around all day. It will even get to the high 50’s, sweatshirt weather.

When I was a kid, I always walked to school. I walked with my friend who lived up the street in the same duplex where my family lived for a few years. It had only two bedrooms. After my sister was born, we moved down the hill to another duplex, one with three bedrooms. We lived there until we moved to the cape.

While I was out yesterday, I noticed a carnival being set up in a field. That reminded me of the field below my street where a few carnivals used to set up. I liked carnival rides. The Ferris wheel was always a favorite ride. I loved when the Ferris wheel stopped to let people on or off, and I was stuck at the top. My friend was always afraid, and I didn’t help. I wiggled back and forth so the car moved, swayed. She always screamed. I just took in the view. The rides I didn’t go on went in circles because the worst ride I ever took was one which not only went in circles but also had covered cars so you spun around in darkness. When that ride stopped, I got sick over the side. That was the last time I rode in circles.

When I was young, my world was narrow. It was my town and a bit of the towns around me. That was enough for a while. I had a route when I was riding my bike. I stopped for golf balls by the course, I checked out the horses in the town barn, I stopped at the junk man’s house. I remember his porch was so filled with newspapers it leaned and looked ready to fall down The barn too was filled. I always wondered what he did with all those newspapers. The piles only got bigger.

When I was growing up, I traveled on my bike. I traveled my town and the towns around me. When I was eleven, I started to dream about traveling the world, a dream prompted by a classmate who went to England to visit his grandmother. I vowed I would out do him.

My family went to Niagara Falls. We went to the Canadian side, but for me, it didn’t count. We traveled by car.

Ghana counted.