“When I die, I’m gonna leave my body to science fiction.”
Today is a winter’s day. The sky is steely grey. Pine tree branches stand as dark silhouettes outlined against the grey. Nothing is moving. It is 22°. The high will be a whopping 25°. It is the perfect day to stay in my cozies.
The dogs stay out a while. They chase each other all over the yard. Both come inside panting. Both have cold ears. They do have coats but not earmuffs.
Today is laundry day. I have finally begun to run out of my uniform of a sweatshirt and flannel pants. I also need to wash the spread from my bed. The CDC has been leaving messages about wanting it for testing.
For some odd reason, a singular memory of Ghana I haven’t mentioned before or I don’t remember mentioning leapt out of my memory drawer. I was in my house reading when I heard a, “Caw, Caw,” which a visitor always said to mention his presence in lieu of a doorbell, followed by a knock at the screen door. A man I didn’t know was there. He greeted me, and I returned his greeting. He told me he was looking for a white woman. I thanked him for the offer but said I wasn’t available. He asked if I knew any Canadians. I told him no. He thanked me and went on his way.
I have the makings of a cheesy science fiction movie in my backyard. Call it The Case of the Creeping Garland. Last week I finally removed the pine garland from my mantel. I had left it there so long after Christmas because green is a hopeful color, the color of new beginnings, but the garland had dried and the needles had sharpened. I moved it slowly and unwrapped the lights around it. The needles fell all over the floor and rug, but I managed to get it out the back door where I threw it down the steps. A few days ago I noticed it was missing. I found it in the backyard. I left it there. This morning it is back on the stairs closer to the door than it had been so I’m keeping an eye on the movements of this potentially murderous garland. I will not answer knocks on the back door.
Explore posts in the same categories: Musings
February 25, 2023 at 3:57 pm
This has been a strange week Kat. Ice storms have disturbed everything in the Metro area, more snow today and in the middle of all this Mrs MDH and I have been blessed with the arrival of our second grand daughter. In the 5 days of her life she has been driven backwards and forwards between her home and ours as their power has gone on and off.
Being a slightly doting Grandpa (traditionalist I want to be called Grandpa) I have to stick around long enough to enjoy her early development years
February 25, 2023 at 7:24 pm
Hedley, congratulations and good luck! Stay safe, all of you!
February 25, 2023 at 8:02 pm
My Dear Hedley,
How lucky you had elecitricty. You get to love on your new granddaughter.
We had snow, maybe close to a couple of inches, the most we’ve had so far this winter. It is soft and fluffy.
It is so cold right now I am staying warm under covers.
I like grandpa. You’l be around until your dottering days.
February 25, 2023 at 7:22 pm
The garden sci-fi novel that still has to be written, probably by you 🙂
Music in the neighborhood here, I’m just back home and it’s bedtime now. First Ukrainian soup and Ukrainian vocal music, later a Zappa-style session with a local American singer, it was fun. Unfortunately they didn’t play together, would it have been interesting or a mess? We’ll never know.
February 25, 2023 at 8:05 pm
Birgit,
Yes, maybe by me. I’m the one with the wandering greenery, but it is now mostly covered in snow. That way I get to trail it!
I always envy you the music. The only music I hear is in the summer when the guy who lives behind me has his radio up so loud I usually have to back into the house. To top it off, his taste in music and mine clash.