Archive for September 2015

“My grandfather’s clock was too large for the shelf, So it stood ninety years on the floor”

September 3, 2015

The judge has nullified the four game suspension of Tom Brady. The league will appeal. Enough said!

The hot day today is no different from the last few hot days. A breeze? Nope, not even a small one. Last night we had enough of a breeze to ring the chimes hanging from branches in the back yard. Not today. Everything is quiet. I can hear only Gracie’s snores.

After the first couple of days, school became routine. The fun of a new lunch box and new pencil case wore off quickly. The school day never really changed from year to year. Classes, lunch, recess then more classes was the order of the day. Once a week we had art and music, and they were the only deviations from the traditional subjects. I remember in music we learned how to read the lines of the treble clef: EGBDF: every good boy does fine. That has stayed with me all these years. I also still remember the clef spaces: FACE. That I remember has proven to be totally useless as not once has either come up in conversation. I’ve used mnemonics for so many things but these two and HOMES seem to have lives of their own.

We learned songs in music. My Grandfather’s Clock was one of them. I knew all the words but didn’t really understand what they meant. I would have asked all sorts of questions if the nun ever called for a Q&A. How did the clock know? What did the old man die of? What’s a pennyweight? Who was watching the clock when the old man died and why is he called the old man? How come he’s not called Grandfather? Instead, I remained ignorant of the intricacies of the story and sang along anyway. I really only liked the song because you got to pause at the line. “It stopped short – never to go again,” We all waited just for that line. The only other song I remember is Up on the Housetop. Because we all still believed in Santa Claus, it was etched in our memories. I’ll never forget:

“Ho, ho ho! Who wouldn’t go? Ho, ho ho! Who wouldn’t go?
Up on the housetop, click, click, click
Down through the chimney with old Saint Nick”

Read more:  Christmas Song – Up On The Housetop Lyrics | MetroLyrics

Washing Machine: Amy LaVere

September 1, 2015

Good Old Electric Washing Machine: John Hartford

September 1, 2015

September 1, 2015

electric-washing-machine

“I’ve buried a lot of my laundry in the back yard.”

September 1, 2015

It will be warm and humid today, no surprise there, but the morning is still cool. It has become a ritual of sorts for me to open the doors and windows in the morning then close them to the heat of the afternoon when I turn on the AC. It is nap time for all the animals. Fern sleeps in the sun streaming through the front door while Gracie and Maddie are comfortable on the couch.

The day is pretty quiet right now. The birds aren’t singing, the leaves aren’t blowing and none of the kids from down the street are outside playing or riding their bikes. Today is their last day of summer. School starts tomorrow. Tonight will be bath night and then early to bed.

The first load of laundry is done and needs to go into the dryer. I gave in finally.

When I was a kid, the washing machine was in the cellar right next to the deep sink. It was a white wringer, the same as everyone else’s washing machine. My mother did several loads a week of laundry. It was a process. The clothes were spun in the soapy water in the barrel-like part by the agitator and then my mother put the clothes through the wringer, sometimes twice, to get rid of the excess water. Finally the clothes went hung to dry on the outside lines no matter the season. I used to like to watch my mother wring the clothes. Our machine was electric so she just fed the clothes to the rollers. I had a déjà vu moment when I first made pasta. My mother and her washing machine jumped into my head when I put the dough through the rollers. It was the same process. You even had to dry the dough.

I have it easy and I still procrastinate.