I woke up early to a lovely day, sunny and warm, in the 40’s. Only a little snow remains in my backyard under the pine trees where the sun doesn’t reach. The snow has paw prints.

My dusting yesterday took forever, and I’m not even done yet; regardless, I feel accomplished. There were five dirty, dusty wipes on the floor when I stopped. I’m on such a roll I’ll finish the two remaining shelves this afternoon. I’ll need to wear sunglasses in this room when I’m finally finished.

My house in Ghana had a corrugated tin roof. The whole house was made of concrete. The house, inside and outside, was painted white. The eating area, which was the back room had a table, two chairs, and the fridge. The room had one full wall facing the concrete backyard and screened windows across the wall. In the middle of the two banks of screens was the back door to the yard where the water tap, the toilet, cooking area and shower were. The cooking room had a stove which was seldom used as we couldn’t get gas. Wood charcoal was what we used for cooking. The toilet room was sometimes shared with a sitting hen. She used to try to peck my feet if I got too close. The shower room had a single tap of cold water and a tiny window with wooden slats. I used to keep my bath stuff on the sill of the window. The house didn’t have a whole lot of furniture, but I had enough.

The houses were concrete so they couldn’t be eaten by termites and other insects, but my school had one building made of wood where there was science equipment. No one could explain why it was wooden. My students aptly called it the wooden building. They were amazed that most of our homes were made of wood and weren’t being eaten.

So much of my time in Ghana even after all these years is easily recalled. They stay bright in my memory drawers, even a memory as small as a wooden building.