Archive for June 2023
Leaving on a Jet Plane: Peter, Paul and Mary
June 22, 2023Come Fly With Me: Frank Sinatra
June 22, 2023
“Let’s not grow with our roots in the ground.”
June 22, 2023Today’s weather is neither one nor the other. The sun is shining, but rain is predicted. We have a wind then we have a breeze. It is a bit chilly.
I went out on the deck to watch the dogs. Nala did her business than did a zoomie, cone and all. I watched her maneuver at top speed between tree trunks. She was amazing.
When I was in the first grade, I was in the rhythm band. I played the sticks first then a triangle. My talent went unrecognized. That was the end of my early musical career. I always thought it a pity.
Fast forward. I have reenergized my musical career with my uke. I’m an okay player. I can play most of the chords without looking at my fingers the way I used to when I first started. Sometimes, though, the chord switch is quick, and the second chord is difficult so my fingers sort of slide from one chord to the other. I keep practicing the switches, but my fingers don’t cooperate. Though I love playing the uke, I sometimes long for the ease of banging the sticks.
Of late, I have been a sloth. Most days I sort of hang around the house in my cozies. I make plans then don’t follow through. I have no guilt about it.
My first plane ride was when I was a freshman in college. I flew in a small commuter plane from Hyannis to Boston, a gift from my parents. It was a glorious ride skirting the shoreline. It fed my longing to travel. I flew to New York during college for a weekend with friends. I flew stand by. It was cheaper. My next flight was in my uncle’s plane. This was just a few weeks before Peace Corps. I had babysat my aunt and uncle’s brood for longer than expected so my uncle offered to fly me to Hyannis. We flew over Boston. It was amazing. I could identify landmarks. My head flew from side to side. I didn’t want to miss anything. The next flight was monumental, from Philadelphia to Accra. I remember watching The love Bug, the in-flight movie. I remember the drink cart making unending trips up and down the aisle. I remember the pilot telling us we were flying over the Sahara, and we all crowded to look out the windows.
I have flown many, many times now, trips to Europe, South America, North Africa and back to Ghana three times. What is amazing is I still look out the windows so I don’t miss anything. I have learned to ignore everything but the flight. Flying is still magical to me.
Can’t Buy Me Love: The Beatles
June 20, 2023Shop Around: Smokey Robinson & The Miracles
June 20, 2023
“Spring being a tough act to follow, God created June.”
June 20, 2023Today is lovely. It is sunny and bright and in the high 60’s. This, for me, is perfect weather. Even the nights are wonderful with temperatures in the mid 50’s, light blanket and snuggling weather.
Nala and her cone are at odds. She comes to an impasse and stands with her head down. If I don’t see her, I go hunting. If she is out, I keep checking the backdoor as she can’t get in by herself, but she does sleep well with her head resting on her cone and often on me.
The concert yesterday was wonderful. The weather was perfect, the crowd was enthusiastic. Because of the dogs, I didn’t played all last week so I was loving being back with my uke.
When I was a kid, I loved everything about summer. The trees were heavy with leaves. I could find chestnuts below the tree at the top of the road. I’d smash them with a rock then eat the nut, the fruit. On rainy days, I’d go outside and get wet. I’d run in the rain and kick up the water in the gutters. I’d let paper boats float in the rapid water like the scene in the movie It though without Pennywise. I could stay outside later. The streetlights were no longer my curfew. Every day was mine to do what I wanted. I wasn’t a sloth back then. I was busy every day.
When I lived in Ghana, I had a lot of free time. My house was on school grounds so it only took a few minutes to get to class. In between classes, I’d walk home and usually have another cup of coffee while sitting on the porch. In the afternoons, I’d prepare classes and then read for the rest of the day, my routine until Bill and Peg moved to my school. We’d always eat dinner together and then have game nights. I played my music. I had a cassette recorder and tapes. I didn’t have a transformer, only an adapter, but I did have an amazing electrician. He attached a Christmas sort of bulb to the adapter to suck up the extra wattage. The bulb was red. It lit up the wall. I always thought it kind of festive.
My life now more than any other time resembles my Peace Corps days. I have unlimited time to read. I play my music but without the red bulb, a loss of sorts. I often take afternoon siestas. I shop at outside farmers’ markets.
Every day something reminds of Ghana. For that I am grateful.
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