“I often think that the night is more alive and more richly colored than the day.”
Henri decided to go elsewhere and bypassed the Cape. We had wind but nothing extraordinary. We had a few minutes of rain. This morning it rained for another five minutes. Now we have a beautiful sunny day. The humidity is nearly gone. The breeze is refreshing.
I need to trash pick my yard today. When I went out on the deck, I could see evidence in the backyard of petty theft. Pieces of plastic, flattened boxes, the remnants of my bagels and some unidentifiable pieces of paper are strewn about the yard just below the deck. I brought in one pile of already collected trash and bagged it.
I vacuumed while the coffee was brewing. The rugs and floors have bits of pine branches all over. As soon as I throw one branch, Nala brings in another. I’ve given branch mess some thought. I could shut the door and eliminate access to the dog door, but Nala and Henry both go out that door. Do I really want to get up every time Nala wants out or in? Nope, the door stays accessible. I have no answer. I’m just going to have to quit complaining and keep the vacuum at hand.
Last night it was the voices of people staying next door and the sound of water falling into a pot which open my memory drawer. Nights in Ghana were never really quiet. Early on, when I went to town in the evenings, I could hear voices, the muted voices of women chatting in FraFra and selling mostly food on the sides of the street and the deep male voices coming from the tables outside the bar in the middle of town, from outside the Super Service Inn. I don’t know how well I can describe how neat these evenings were. After dark, lanterns twinkled up and down the street. Behind each lantern was a woman selling something. They’d call to entice us to stop. We often did and often bought plantain and yam chips and whatever meat concoction we’d find. We’d buy small groundnuts to have as snacks with the Cokes we bought every couple of days from the DPW, yup, the Department of Public Works. It had a small store around the corner from my school.
On school grounds, in the early mornings, I could hear sweeping sounds. Students swept the grounds and the classrooms every day. The loudest sound was tap water flowing into the empty metal buckets the students were filling for their morning baths after chores. The students’ voices were always part of the morning.
These wonderful memories come easily prompted by a sound or a smell or a feeling.
I need to trash pick my yard today. When I went out on the deck, I could see evidence in the backyard of petty theft. Pieces of plastic, flattened boxes, the remnants of my bagels and some unidentifiable pieces of paper are strewn about the yard just below the deck. I brought in one pile of already collected trash and bagged it.
I vacuumed while the coffee was brewing. The rugs and floors have bits of pine branches all over. As soon as I throw one branch, Nala brings in another. I’ve given branch mess some thought. I could shut the door and eliminate access to the dog door, but Nala and Henry both go out that door. Do I really want to get up every time Nala wants out or in. Nope, the door stays accessible. I have no answer. I’m just going to have to quit complaining and keep the vacuum at hand.
I have no energy left today. I emptied baskets and bags and put them in the car and hauled in a package from Chewy, 24 cans of dog food. That was more than enough exertion for today, that one box. I’m taking a shower later and then I’m headed to Hyannis for my uke concert. It’s Beatles Night. “I wanna hold your hand.”
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keepthecoffeecoming.blog 
August 23, 2021 at 4:48 pm
Hi Kat,
Today is sunny and the temperature is right at a balmy 96°. Balmy that is for August. 🙂
My neighborhood is so quiet it’s spooky. Of course everyone has their windows shut, their AC going full blast and there’s very little street traffic. When I was a kid we would travel to Brooklyn NY in June to visit my relatives. My grandmother’s house had no AC and we would have the windows open for ventilation. Neighbors sat outside on folding chars or on the stoops and conversed in lively and sometimes in a loud manner. We could hear TVs or radios playing loudly in the apartment building next door and if the wind was right the aromas of exotic dishes cooking would waft through the air. Other sounds were the clang of the trolly cars a down the street on Ralph Avenue along with automobile horns.
The times have changed dramatically in the past 65 or so years.
August 23, 2021 at 11:20 pm
Hi Bob,
Balmy? Balmy at 96˚? Even for August that is horrifically high. We don’t even get that high during the entire summer.
What a great memory of a unique time and place. I have seen many movies taking place in New York of the 1950’s. I remember thinking in summer the city became a community. People shared similar experiences and the heat.
The times have changed and not for the better in so many ways.