Winter is still heavy handed. The other night the water in my birdbath froze. It was in the low 30’s. Last night was only a tiny bit warmer. The days, though, are giving me a bit of hope, a hint of spring. They jump into the 40’s and feel warm if there is no wind. Right now it is 46°. The sun, with its deep blue background, is bright and magnificent, after all the rain. The vibrant yellow of the goldfinches at the thistle feeders cuts through the drab. There are so many of them they have to wait in line. I swear I saw one goldfinch take a number from the deli machine on a branch. 

When I was a kid, I knew I would travel. It was the only known. I made that vow to myself when I was eleven. The when and the where weren’t part of my vow. The idea of traveling was enough. 

Over my lifetime I have been surprised by experiences I never imagined. 

It is sixty-six years since my vow to travel. My young self would be amazed at where I’ve been. I still marvel that I lived in Africa, that it holds a special place in my heart. About Africa, I only knew what the geography books taught me. I could talk climate, capital cities, exports, rivers and mountains. I had so much to learn, so much to experience, and I took in everything I could. Ghana became a comfortable place. I think my eleven year old self would have thought that remarkable.

I can play a musical instrument. I thought my debut with the triangle in the second grade would be it. I saw no symphony hall in my future. I saw no ukulele in my future. I didn’t even know what a ukulele was. Big Brother Bob Emery played the uke on his TV show when he sang The Grass is Always Greener, his theme song. I thought it was a guitar. When I decided I wanted to play a musical instrument, the uke came to mind. I thought it might be easier than the guitar. It only has four strings. I still don’t see Symphony Hall in my future, but it doesn’t matter. I love my uke.

When I was growing up, I never did laundry, make a bed or cook. I was just fine with that. During college I had to figure out how to work the washing machine. I seldom made my bed. Cooking was out of a can. Dinty Moore’s beef stew was a favorite. I loved chicken noodle soup. In Ghana, I never did laundry. I always found someone to pay to do it, by hand as there were no machines. Ironing was a necessity. It was a charcoal iron. I didn’t do that either. I didn’t cook. I had no stove, only a small charcoal burner, a sort of forerunner for the hibachi but round. I cook and bake now. I’ll try to make anything, nothing phases me. That was a surprise. I still seldom make my bed. My washing machine died so I have my clothes washed at the laundry. Some habits don’t change. 

This entry was posted on April 10, 2025 at 12:48 pm and is filed under Musings. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. Both comments and pings are currently closed.