Keep the Coffee Comimg

The morning is lovely. It is winter warm with a bright sun and a clear blue sky. A slight breeze moves only the thinest branches of the pine trees. Earlier, the dogs were out in the yard chasing each other. Tongues were hanging out when they came back inside the house. Henry is having his morning nap. He is exhausted from running in the backyard and barking from the front door at anything moving on our street. He doesn’t discriminate.

When I was a kid, we celebrated Washington’s birthday, his actual birthday. Later, Lincoln’s birthday got in on the action. Now it is Presidents’ Day honoring all of them. My flag is waving.

This week was February vacation when I was a kid. We never went anywhere. Family vacations were summer affairs so I had to find ways to fill the week and amuse myself. If it was cold enough, I’d go ice skating. If it was warm enough, I’d ride my bike. If I was bored, I’d watch television or read in the quiet of my bedroom. This week always seemed to move quickly. School weeks never did.

Most things are out of Nala’s reach now so she is getting desperate and extending her territory. Last night, TP was all over the hall. Nala had trashed picked from the bathroom basket. This morning she chewed a pencil into tiny pieces on the door mat. She stole that from the table here in the den. Now I have to hide my pens and pencils.

My school in Ghana had a night watchman. He used to sleep with his dog beside him under a tree. He had a lit lantern and sometimes lit a small fire to keep himself warm during the harmattan. He closed the front gate when it got dark. I sometimes was in town with friends so the gate was closed when I got back to school. From outside the gate I could see the watchman sleeping, and I could hear his dog barking at me. I yelled, “Watchman, Watchman,” over and over. He never moved. Most times I ended up climbing the gate into the school. My students told me I was being ignored on purpose because he didn’t want get up. I never solved that problem. I did wonder if he let thieves in as easily especially after my house was robbed.

My dance card has a few entries this week. I have a doctor’s appointment on Wednesday. On Tuesday night is uke practice, and Wednesday morning is my lesson. We’re practicing Irish as we have a concert and a parade celebrating St. Patrick’s Day in March. The rest of my week is wide open. I’m thinking I’ll do a few odd house chores like cleaning my bedroom closet floor and polishing the silver. Notice I haven’t mentioned the laundry.

Last night was so cold I gasped for breath when I went outside. The relentless wind made it feel even colder. My car couldn’t warm up fast enough. My fingers were so cold I held them against the heater vent.

On the ride to my friend’s for dinner, I saw even more houses lit up against the darkness. In one front yard a huge fir tree was ablaze with colored Christmas bulbs. It was the brightest spot on the road. I decided I’d light my colored bulbs tonight.

Every morning my newspaper is either on the walkway or on the front step. I didn’t know who to thank for tossing my paper into the yard until this morning. I was up early and went to get my paper. I jumped when I looked up and saw an unexpected person by my car with my paper in hand. She was dressed in the brightest lime jacket with black lines. I went to chat and to thank her. In the course of our conversation she told me her age, 91. She wears a Fitbit and counts her steps. She figures she walks about two miles every day. The woman is extraordinary.

My house got TP’ed yesterday afternoon, inside. I was at my computer and was totally oblivious as to what was happening. When I got up, I saw my hall floor was covered in shredded toilet paper. My living room too had shredded toilet paper but mostly on the rug. I went upstairs to check, and my bedroom had TP on the bed and floor. As for the culprit, I knew right away Miss Nala had been enjoying herself. She had stolen a roll of paper from the bathroom counter, far back on the counter, or at least I thought so. Miss Nala made hay, so to speak, while I was otherwise occupied.

Our dog Duke was a roamer in the days before leash laws. He was the dog who followed kids to the East School and then followed us to St. Pat’s. My father would call for him, and Duke would ignore him. My father, in his fury at being ignored, would jump into his car and chase Duke. Sometimes he caught him.

Duke and his son Sam wandered all over town. Sam was a silly boxer who smiled. The two of them were marauders known around the neighborhood. One time my father had to get the two of them after a neighbor called and claimed she was being held hostage by the two dogs outside her house. They would not leave when she yelled. In her house was a dog in heat, and both Sam and Duke were hopeful for a future relationship. My father got Sam easily, but Duke was evasive. My father got apoplectic. Once Sam was captured, Duke decided to listen and got into the car. Sam was delivered to his home first. My father dropped Duke off then left immediately for work. He was running late. Duke was a wily opponent who usually won every stand-off. I have boxers with all their peculiarities because of Duke. He was the best dog.

Today is bright and beautiful. It is also cold, only 34˚. The wind is blowing but only slightly in comparison to the winds of the last few days. The dogs are out and back inside quickly. Their ears are always cold.

My dance card has one item, dinner with friends tonight and maybe a game or two. My chore list has a few more items which I have been ignoring. My laundry is still in the hall. My kitchen floor is filled with paw prints from the door, down the hall to the den. My bed is unmade. I did water my plants yesterday, my biggest achievement of the day. It was exhausting.

My den is cluttered, and that’s being kind. My collections are here: my hats, my snow globes, baskets from Ghana, my vinyl, some wind-up toys, many cookbooks in wooden boxes and some bobble heads. The couch is where the three of us spend our time. I get the middle. Each dog has a side.

When I was a kid, Saturday was sacrosanct. The morning was for eating cereal in front of the TV. The rest of the day depended on the season and the weather. A winter Saturday was often a movie matinee at the theater uptown. I loved that theater. It was special, unique. It was built in 1917 and was called The Stoneham. The ticket window was on the left wall. There was an incline to the rest of the theater. The stairs to the balcony, usually closed off with a red rope unless there were too many kids, were also on the left wall. The concession stand was at the top of the incline in the middle of the wall between the doors to the seats. In the very back seats were always kissing couples. They were the only teenagers at the matinee. The front of the theater had a stage. When my mother was young, there were giveaways like dishes. One Saturday I saw The Wizard of Oz for the first time. I clapped when it turned to color. Al and his wife owned and ran the theater. She was at the concession stand, and he went up and down the aisles shining his flashlight at us and trying to maintain order. He always wore a jacket and a tie.

I still go to that theater, but now it is a live theater where the Greater Boston Stage Company performs six shows a year. My sister and I usually go to the Christmas play every year. The balcony is always open. Nobody throws candy anymore.

Yesterday was damp and chilly. Nala and I went to the dump then on to Agway. She thoroughly enjoyed the store, greeted everyone then tried to steal the biscuits on the counter. Nala has no shame.

Last night the wind howled, and the rain started, but it was warm. At 1 am, it was in the low 50’s. This morning the rain is still falling and the wind is still fierce. It is warm at 55˚.

When I was a kid, I loved the wind. I remember walking across the field at the foot of my street, opening my jacket, spreading out my arms and letting the wind take me, even push me so I almost had to run a bit to stay on my feet. It was exhilarating. I remember laughing the whole time.

Pine trees have shallow roots which grow straight down. My yard is filled with pine trees. After every wind storm, branches are strewn about the backyard. I made a pile after the last storm. I’m going to have add to that pile from this storm which has had gusts as high as 60 MPH. I can also see some limbs hanging, ready to fall. None are near the deck. In my front yard, three pine trees have been cut down over the years. One more is dead. It has ivy growing up its truck so I want the bottom half of the trunk saved.

In Ghana, when I saw my first baobab tree, my jaw dropped. It was the biggest, widest tree I’d ever seen. Where I lived was savannah grassland so a tree was precious. My favorite road was between Bolga where I lived and Navrongo, 22 miles north. One part of the road was tree-lined. It was utterly beautiful. I found out later they are mahogany trees and had been planted.

Many roads on the cape are dark, no streetlights. Many houses have white lights lit all year long, mine usually being one of them, but I need new lights as one or two sets no longer work. The other night I saw houses with tree trunks circled in white lights and other houses with Christmas lights glowing through the darkness.

Many roads on the Cape are dark, no streetlights. Many houses have white lights lit all year long, mine usually being one of them, but I need new lights as one or two sets no longer work. The other night I saw houses with tree trunks circled in white lights and other houses with Christmas lights glowing through the darkness. I drive slowly pass them.

The wind last night was so strong it blew down branches in the backyard. I could feel the cold from the dog door all the way down the hall to the den. When I checked, I could see the cover flapping. I shut the back door. Noises came with the wind. A branch scraped against the house. A metallic sound came from the back wall in the kitchen, the one looking on to the deck. I didn’t go out. It was far too windy. The dogs were quickly out and back.

This morning I surveyed the deck and yard. It is still quite windy, and the branches are swaying. Nala was doing her zoomies with paper in her mouth, paper stolen from my recycle bin. When I looked over the deck rail, I could see trash in my yard, empty lot in the city trash, all papers. A tall light was the sound against the house, no damage.

We have a sky full of grey clouds, a high wind warning and 51˚. Heinous chores are on my to do list. The laundry is already down here in a basket leaning against the cellar door. My bed has been stripped. A couple of trash bags are in the trunk. I guess I’ll go to the dump. Nala will come with me. She really enjoys the car ride to the dump. I don’t. Maybe if I stuck my head out the window like Nala I might enjoy the ride and the dump more.

My life has been a bit boring of late. The only interesting tidbits of activity have to do with my uke. Sunday it was a concert, Tuesday was practice and Wednesday was my lesson. The highlight of the week will be Saturday and dinner with friends, but first I have to get through Friday and the dentist who’s filling a tooth.

When I was a kid, I was seldom bored. My neighborhood was filled with kids. Our backyards were grassy with a hill in the middle separating the houses on the top from the houses on the bottom where I lived. We used to play games on the grass, games like Red Rover, Hide and Seek, Red Light, Green Light, Tag and Simon Says. We also played a freeze game whose name I don’t remember. The it person would touch us, and we’d have to freeze until another player touched us, and we could unfreeze. I don’t remember how that game ended. I’m thinking maybe when all of us were frozen. We all had roller skates, ice skates, sleds and bikes. Our sleds were wooden, our bikes had no gears and back pedal brakes, but our ice skates were classics, still the same today.

I’m still aghast and horrified. I saw an article in a magazine about the granny cart, the same cart I bought a while back. I keep it in the trunk. Granny cart? Please!!!

When I went to get the paper and yesterday’s mail earlier this morning, I gasped from the cold. I would have quick walked to the mailbox, but the street is icy. I walked gingerly. I had put deicer on my front steps, but they are slippery anyway. Right now it is 17˚. The high for the day will be 25˚.

From my den window, the day is deceivingly inviting. The sun is bright and sharp. The sky is the deepest blue and cloudless. Everything is still, even the smallest branches. The dogs come in with the coldest feeling ears and fur. Right now Nala is still out, but Henry is having his morning nap. I haven’t told him yet, but I am going to cut his nails today. Usually he doesn’t mind. I hope it is the same today.

On my hall wall is the reflection from the prism hanging on the back door window. It is beautiful. Purple and green top yellow and orange. Usually I don’t see the reflection, but I’m keeping the back door closed as I can feel the cold coming down the hall from the dog door.

In my mind’s eye, I can see myself bundled against the cold to walk to school. My winter ensemble included a hat, a winter coat with a sweater underneath, mittens, long underwear which came to my knees, socks and a scarf around my neck. When I got to school, it took a while to take off all my outside clothes while jostling for space in the crowded cloakroom.

The classroom was warm. Tall radiators were below the windows. They hissed and steamed. My classroom was crowded with kids usually numbering in the 40’s. I remember walking sideways between the desk rows as there was little room to maneuver. I remember the fourth grade when I had a back desk right in front of the windows. I’d sneak a look.

I don’t bundle much now. I usually just go from the house to the car or to the store and back again. Sometimes I just wear a sweatshirt over my flannel shirt or a light fleece on the coldest day. I don’t often wear socks or a hat or mittens, but today is so cold I’m going to bundle. My mother would be pleased.

The snow has stopped. It fell all night. I’m living in a winter wonderful. The tops of the branches are covered in snow. The road is not plowed, but I can see pavement in the ruts. As for the amount, we didn’t get all that much. When I went to get my paper, the snow didn’t even reach the tops of my slippers. The dogs love the snow, especially Nala. Her paw prints would give trackers pause. She walks then licks the snow, and you can see her weird tongue print. Later, I’m going to sweep away the snow on the walk and on my car. I will put on boots.

When I was a kid, snow was a celebration. I remember kicking the snow as I walked to school. It blew into the air like a tiny tornado of white. We’d shake bushes and watch the snow hit the ground. If the snow was wet, the branches of the bushes would pop up and more snow would fall, sometimes on us. Once we hit school, fun with snow ended. The nuns warned us about throwing snowballs and threatened punishment. We believed them and nobody threw snowballs. Nuns were not to be be disregarded.

My dance card of the week has a few events. The usual are uke practice tomorrow night and a lesson Wednesday. Friday is the dentist. He’s filling the crack in my wisdom tooth.

In school, Valentine’s Day was a big event. We all brought goodies to share like cookies and cupcakes. The nun would clear off her desk and put all of the food there. We’d put our valentine boxes on our desks. You could feel the excitement in the air. The nun called us row by row to pass out our valentines. Once that was done, the party began. We’d each pick a goodie, go back to our desks to eat, chitchat and look at our valentines.

I’d walk home carrying my valentine box as gently as I could. It was a treasure trove.

The air has the feel of snow. The sky is a light grey closer to white than grey. It is getting darker. A few scattered flakes have fallen, tiny flakes moved by the wind. It is cold and damp.

I’m going out into the elements today, to the big city, to Hyannis, if the snow holds off. We’re having a uke concert at the mall. The music is love songs of the 70’s. I bought a red sweatshirt with hearts on it and I have a fascinator with hearts on a coil. They jiggle. I’ll wear my red shoes.

Nala did zoomies all over the yard yesterday. Gracie used to run along the fence line. Nala does loops. She runs at breakneck speeds under the deck, around a few trees then back under the deck again. Yesterday she did it with a toy in her mouth, the same toy Gracie loved. It was a red rubber duck. Now it is a blackish rubber duck missing all its color.

Jack and Nala are getting closer. This morning Jack was on the fourth step from the bottom while Nala watched. I patted Jack until he got tired of me. Henry followed him up at the stairs.

When I was a kid, I loved watching the snow fall. Sometimes the flakes twisted and spun in the wind. Other times the flakes fell sideways. At night I’d watch the snow highlighted by the streetlight just beyond our front lawn. The flakes shined in the light. In my mind’s eye I can still see the snow under the light being blown sideways by the wind.

When I lived in Ghana, I never missed the snow, but I missed feeling cold and being bundled against winter. I wore a dress and sandals every day. Back in those days, women always wore dresses. I had brought dresses with me, but they didn’t survive hand scrubbing for long so I had to have dresses made by a seamstress. The dresses were of a plain design but the cloth was spectacular, Ghanaian cloth, so very beautiful. On each of my visits back to Ghana, I have bought cloth. Instead of dresses, I’ve had table cloths and napkins made. One tablecloth is the same as the one the guide put over the hood of his Range Rover when he was arranging our light breakfast during the morning safari. When I have guests for a more formal dinner, I love setting the table with my Ghanaian cloth and different dishes.

The snow is still holding off. The prediction is for 3 to 6 inches. I’m hoping for the 3.

Today is another delight. It is already over 50˚. The breeze is sight and barely moves even the smallest branches. The dogs have been out for a while. They love this weather, and they’d better get their fill today as 3.3 inches of snow are predicted for tomorrow, yup 3.3. I’m going out for a bit this afternoon as I need gas, cat food and some safe for paws deicer.

Nala did her perp walk out the dog door so I investigated. Even though I was but a minute behind her she was already running the yard with her booty in her mouth. Come too find out she had one of her favorite toys. I pretended to chase her, and she looped the yard four or five times with the toy in her mouth. While I was out there, I saw my gourd in the back of the yard. I hadn’t even missed it. When I got it, the string attaching it to the table leg for safety was still on the gourd. It must have been stolen by a master thief.

I find myself a bit bored. I read, play online games, swipe dust with my sweatshirt sleeve and rearrange tables and such. Yesterday’s lunch was a wonderful break in my routine. I got to see friends and enjoyed a great meal. I was treated to lunch by my friend Charlie.

When I was a kid, I don’t think I ever stayed home on a Saturday. In winter it was the matinee at the only theater in town or ice skating at the park or the swamp. In warmer weather I’d explore on my bike. I’d ride all over town to new spots and favorite spots. I’d stop to greet the horses in the town stable, ride by the golf course looking for balls and sometimes ride beside the tracks where there was a path. In summer I’d often go to the pool, walking in both directions, or to the swamp where I’d check out the frogs and wander to the back of the swamp jumping from one solid spot to another in trying to keep my sneakers dry. On my excursions, I usually brought my lunch, a sandwich, probably bologna, on soft white bread, Wonder bread I’m thinking, and some cookies for dessert. If I was lucky, there were still Oreos in the cabinet, the best traveling dessert. I’d be gone almost all of the afternoon.

Saturday night we ate our usual dinner of hot dogs, beans and brown bread, a dinner enjoyed by almost every kid I knew. The last ritual for Saturday night was a bath forced on us whether we were dirty or not.

Today will get as high as 48˚. It is already over 40˚. The sun is bright, the sky cerulean blue. I don’t see a single cloud. Blue goes as far as my eyes can see. Not even the smallest branches are moving. Everything is quiet. Today is a delight.

When I was a kid, I used to jump rope mostly at recess. All over one side of the schoolyard were pockets of jumpers. Back then, boys and girls pretty much stayed on separate sides of the schoolyard, not by dictate, just custom. The boys got the basketball hoops. We tried to get one of the hoops, but the nuns said they were for the boys. That was the end of it. You argued with a nun at your own peril.

Today would have been the day we made our Valentine boxes in school. We had to bring in a shoe box or something around the same size to decorate. The box needed a cover. I remember first making the hole in the cover for the valentines then cutting out construction paper hearts in pink and red and glueing them to the box with enough white glue to cover the world. I’d press the heart to the box so it would stick, and white glue would burst out the sides of the heart. I’d wipe the excess with my fingers which then stayed sticky and stuck to one another. I remember making frills with crepe paper, a talent I’d use later on when I made decorative frills for the bone tops of my crown roasts. We’d finish our boxes and place them on window sills to dry and to wait for the big day.

My mother took us shopping for boxes of valentines. We didn’t give them to everybody back then which made for some angst. The valentines had colorful fronts with fun sayings. The boys could buy some with cowboys or sailors. I remember sitting at the kitchen table signing the valentines and putting names on envelopes. My whole name never fit on the back.

Nala stole nothing yesterday. Jack got bored with me again. He got up on the table to lie down. I was sitting on the bed. Jack is getting braver. He sits on the stairs while Nala sits at the bottom of the stairs and stares at him. Henry was his usual self yesterday.

I am entering more of the world today. I’m meeting friends for lunch. Since the time of covid, I have had meals delivered but haven’t been out to eat. I’m going to Hyannis, the big city.