Today is cold, in the very low 60’s. It is also dark. Rain is expected this afternoon into the night and continuing tomorrow with a low of 58˚. That’s even a cold spring day. The roads over the bridges to the cape were bumper to bumper traffic yesterday. Today the tourists will be out and about trying to find something to do in the rain. The main roads will be clogged with slow moving cars filled with tourists craning their necks from side to side so as not to miss anything. I’ll stay home.

Last night I decided hot dogs were the perfect dinner. I am a fan of hot dogs and always have some on hand. Four dogs were left but only two buns. I figured I’d cook all four and share with Nala and Henry. I went into the bathroom, and when I returned to the kitchen, the hot dogs were gone and so was Nala. When she steals something, she runs outside to hide her crime. I went to look and saw her running in the yard with her prize in her mouth. I went back inside and cooked eggs for dinner. The sad, leftover buns were my toast.

My kitchen floor is a disgrace. It is criss-crossed with muddy paw prints. I hate it, but I have to leave it be through tomorrow’s rain. It would silly to wash it now, but that floor is driving me crazy.

When I was a kid, our dog Duke stole a roast beef off the counter. It was sitting there defrosting for dinner. My brother and I wrested the meat from Duke’s mouth. He wasn’t happy but gave up his prize anyway. We washed the beef and pressed the meat to hid the toothmarks. My mother was never the wiser.

I remember one July 4th. We were in the next town over at my dad’s friend’s house. It was on the parade route so we’d sit on the porch to watch the parade, an amazing parade of floats, bands, drill teams and drum corps. We’d nosh on snacks and appetizers during the festivities then have barbecue for supper, we kids that is. The adults ordered Chinese food. I can still see all the white containers sitting on the kitchen island. I asked my mother if I could taste some of it. She said no. Chinese food is not good for children, only adults. Sometime later, after I’d eaten Chinese food and didn’t die or get hives, I remembered the adults only comment and realized that my mother had told a lie of convenience so the adults wouldn’t have to share.

Okay, my frustration level is about as high as it ever gets. I have been on line for close to three hours trying to find alternative download and post music videos sites. I was not successful which is why you see only one song today. I have been all over the net visiting at least twenty sites giving instructions about downloading blocked videos on YouTube, but I failed miserably. I asked for some help earlier but I figured we were all in the same no-download boat, so to speak. Please help if you can. I think I need a nap after all of the hunting and finding nothing.

Last night the evening got cooler, the wind blew then the rain started. It was gentle at first, and both dogs went out for a bit, but in a short while, the rain got heavy, noisy. I could hear it hitting the metal barrel on the deck. Henry did go out later but reluctantly. Nala went out, turned around and came back inside. After the trauma of their getting wet, we three shared some watermelon. Both dogs love watermelon. I am happy to share.

This morning is damp, chilly and quite dark. Heavy rain is predicted. Light rain started earlier then stopped, but that is only a temporary reprieve.

When I was at home in Ghana, I bought my fruit in the market. On the road, I bought from hucksters. Oranges and bananas were the fruits I usually bought as they were easy to eat and didn’t need to be washed, just peeled. Ghana was where I tasted my first mango. I didn’t like mangoes at first, but they sort of grew (really?) on me. I loved pineapple, the sweet pineapple. I also tasted my first pawpaw (papaya). The Peace Corps cook book, Ghana Chop, called it the amazing pawpaw. It was versatile and even tasted like apple when baked in a pie. I saw coconuts in the wild, hanging from palm trees. One of my favorite snacks, usually sold on the street by small girls, was a toasted coconut ball. I had a bowl of fruit for lunch every day. They were the freshest fruits I have ever eaten.

When I was a kid, penny candy had amazing choices, and all of them were really a penny. Fireballs were my favorites. They lasted the longest especially when I’d have to take the fire ball out of my mouth because of the heat. Candy buttons weren’t the easiest to eat. I had to be careful not to get any paper with the buttons, an almost impossible task. Root beer barrels are still among my favorites. When I was in Ghana, I craved root beer. Mary Janes took a lot of chewing as did Squirrel Nut Zippers. Sometimes the wrappers stuck to the candy. If I couldn’t take off the wrapper remnants I ate the candy anyway. I was a kid.

My to-do list is empty, not because there is nothing to do, but because I don’t want to do anything. My car has filled trash bags in the trunk waiting for a dump run, but today is an ugly day, a day to stay home, warm and dry. I declare today a sloth day.

Today was sunny when I woke up, but since then clouds have arrived, and the day is getting a bit dark. Rain is predicted for tonight, but maybe it will arrive sooner. I’ll be glad for the rain and glad, even more, for the thunder and lightning. 84˚ is the current temperature. I turned on my air conditioner when I got downstairs. and the dogs are lolling on the couch.

Last night I woke up and called Henry to come upstairs. I turned on the hall light and saw Jack downstairs lying on the floor. I was happy to see he gets out of his cat room to roam a bit. He loves Henry so Jack must have felt safe. Nala, the terror dog, was asleep on my bed. She cries at Jack. He just stays out of her reach near the hole in the gate protecting the cat room. Jack drives Nala crazy.

We got our first kitten when I was sixteen. We waited until my father was not home except for weekends. He had been transferred, and we would not be moving until after school ended. When my father found out, he told my mother to get rid of the cat. My father was not a cat lover. Dogs were masculine. Cats were feminine. We didn’t rid of the cat. My father wasn’t happy until he was lying in bed watching TV, and the cat jumped on the bed, licked him and snuggled. My father was smitten. From then on, my parents had two cats and a dog. That first cat, Gideon, loved my father more than any other human. The rest of us just happened to live in the same house as my Dad. Gideon even went in the car with my Dad, slept behind him on the top of my Dad’s seat and leaned on him for the whole ride. My father became a cat lover, and my parents always had cats after that.

When I was a kid, I always felt safe. I knew bogeymen weren’t real and neither was the guy with the hook, but I do remember once, I think I was probably ten, when we were visiting my grandparents in East Boston. We, including me, my brother, my uncle, two years older than I, were going to the MDC pool near the science museum. We were taking the subway. While waiting in the station for the train, I was approached by a man who offered me candy if I went with him. He told me I just had to move to the other side of the station. I remember the guy had bad teeth and was wearing a hat. I said no but that didn’t deter him. He tried again. That’s when I got scared and ran to my brother and uncle. They asked what was the matter. I said nothing was the matter. I never told them or my parents about the guy who, after that, just disappeared off the station platform. I felt relieved and safe and even a bit brave.