It rained, but I missed it, and no more rain is predicted. The day is cloudy and cold, 51° cold. The leaves are being buffeted by a constant wind. It is a day to stay close to heath and home.

Yesterday I finished the move from here to there and back again. The chore went like this. I moved the photo albums, but I looked through them first. Two were my family, but the rest I had bought. My favorite album chronicles a trip through Italy in the late 1930’s with pictures, postcards and commentary. I wondered why families would give up such a treasure. Perhaps, I thought, the people in the photos passed away, and the albums had no emotional value to the rest of the family. Anyway, it took a while to figure out where to put the albums. Finally, I was left with an empty spot. Next, I removed almost everything from the kitchen shelf. The books, now dusted, went on the spot formerly held by the albums. Everything else from the shelf went on the counter. I cleaned the shelf then found the dishes stored in the Peterborough basket and moved them to the empty shelf. Finally, I washed the stuff originally from the shelf then found places to put them. Chore ended. I was hot and sweaty but triumphant.

This is the rainy season in Bolga. The fields are green. Millet is growing high. The dust has disappeared, but the bugs have reappeared. The light in my living room, a simple bulb, hung from the ceiling. I made a lamp shade for it out of a Bolga basket. Below the basket was a circle of light, the circumference of the basket. Every night the circle was black, filled in by the dead bugs attracted to the light.

Today I declare a sloth day. My larder is filled. The groceries were delivered yesterday. My fridge is overflowing. I have all my favorites. I’ve almost finished my book but have more waiting in the wings. I’ll stay in my cozies. Today is a good day.

We are still having the most delightful weather. It is already in the mid 70’s with lots of sun and a strong breeze keeping the heat at bay. It will go down to the 50’s tonight, perfect for sleeping. Tomorrow we will have welcomed rain.

I have projects for today. My small bureau needs painting, but I’m only doing the three drawer fronts in red. I’m in need of a little whimsey. I’m also going to tackle the conundrum, the domino effect, of where to move one thing to make room for another and then move another to make room for the last thing moved.

I sometimes wonder if I went back in time where would I go. Maybe I’d choose a random Saturday, jump on my bike and roam my town. I’d get to see as it was when I was young. It had a town horse barn, trains that rolled through to the factories along the tracks, a man who sharpened knives on his special bike with a whetstone and the ragman with his horse and wagon. I’d get to yell, “Johnny,” to announce the ice cream man.

Perhaps I’d go back to high school. I’d head to Brigham’s for one of our celebrations, maybe for Mardi Gras. I’d order my usual sundae, the one with chopped almonds on the top. I’d spend a dime and head to Harvard Square where I’d roam the streets the way we used to, maybe I’d even take in a movie at the Orson Well’s Cinema. If I had the money, I’d have lunch at the Wursthouse, some bratwurst or schnitzel. I’d check out the newspapers and magazines at Out of Town News. Just looking at the headlines whetted my thirst for travel.

My college stop would be one morning in the canteen. My friends and I would be sitting at the table near the wall, sort of our table. I’d be smoking a cigarette and drinking cups of coffee. We’d all be reading The Globe then having a contest to see who could finish the crossword the fastest. After classes we’d always meet up again. We laughed a lot. I remember if one of my friends was talking on and on, we’d all turn our backs. We loved the harassment.

I’d be hard-pressed to choose which of my Peace Corps days I’d go back to. I have three in mind. The first would be arriving at staging in Philadelphia, the beginning of my adventure, of the best experience of my life. I remember being nervous and excited. While standing in line to check in, I met Ralph and later Bill and Peg. The second day would be my arrival in Ghana, stepping off the plane. I was in Africa, the most amazing place. I was awed. The third could be any day, a teaching day or a market day or a day in in Accra meeting friends and walking the city. They all were favorite days.

My last stop back in time would be on a Friday night at my parent’s house. We’d all be sitting around the kitchen table drinking and playing cards. I’d spend another evening with my parents. My Uncle Jack too would be there. We’d all be laughing and loving each other’s company.

I am happy. I love my life, my friends, my cozies, my sloth days, my uke and really bad science fiction movies, but I hold dear those other days. They are part of who I am. Actually, they helped me become the me I am.