The wind is blowing, the air is humid, the sky is cloudy and it will be hot today. Thunderstorms are predicted for late this afternoon. Last night there was rolling thunder. Henry looked up from the bed but decided he was in no danger so he went back to sleep. Nala never noticed.

I have more trash than I have room for in my car so I’ll take a trip to the dump this afternoon. I have an appointment in Hyannis after which I’ll do the dump run. The rest of the trash is upstairs and is from the kitty litter boxes in the cats’ room. The pile gets bigger every day. The bags get heavier. I’m too old for this.

I remember how awful the barrels smelled when I was a kid. Flies were inside those barrels and circling around the covers. When my mother asked me too empty the kitchen basket, I groused. I knew when I lifted the barrel cover the flies would escape, and I’d be in their flight paths. We did have a garbage container in the backyard, what today would probably be a compost pile, buried except for its cover which was metal and flipped open when you pressed the pedal. The flies were even worse there, and I vividly remember the maggots, crawling white gross little worms all over the bananas peels and half-eaten apples. I used to watch them for them a while. They never attacked me the way the flies did.

In Ghana, flies were ubiquitous. At first, I was grossed out, but later, recognizing a losing battle, it didn’t take long for me to stop caring. I’d just wave my hands to keep the flies off me and my food. The market was fly heaven. The aunties, the local entrepreneurs who sold produce in the market, used straw fans to keep the bugs at bay. My house had screens so few flies could broach the interior. Other bugs could but not flies.

Every Saturday night was entertainment night at my school. Houses competed in plays and singing competitions. Tribal dancing was my favorite Saturday event. Sometimes we’d watch a movie. My favorite was a cartoon about the dangers of flies carrying disease. The large cartoon flies, about the size of birds, flew into pit toilets, covered their legs with feces and then stopped on food. My students were grossed out as was I. Solutions were offered, none viable. My favorite was to put screen covers over the food, but few Ghanaians had screens in their houses so this was totally impractical. I didn’t have covers for my food either. I never even thought about having some made.

When I went back to Ghana, I easily fell back into ignoring the flies. I guess it had become inherent. I’d notice them when they landed on food, but I’d just waved my hand as a matter of course, and the flies would leave for the meantime.

The morning is a delight. Right now it is 69˚ with lots of sun and the smallest of breezes. It will be a drying out day after three days of rain. It will also be a wash the kitchen floor day before I go crazy because of the muddy paw prints. They also go all the way down the hall.

Yesterday Nala counter surfed again. She took my English muffin. I found the plastic outside. She also hunted through a bag upstairs and stole a new Christmas ornament, a decorated cloth ornament. When she ran out the dog door, I knew she had something. She and I played tag for a while then she dropped the ornament. Later she stole a big package of tortillas. I remembered in a matter of seconds I had left them on the counter. When I went outside, Nala had the bag in her mouth. Two of the tortillas were sticking out of the bag. I chased her through the tall weeds in the back yard. She ran. I walked and called her the entire time. Finally she drop the tortillas and ate the two which had been hanging out of the bag. The last Nala theft was newspapers. I went out on the deck and found shredded paper and parts of the Sunday Globe. I collected all of it. It took a little while, and this morning I saw one I had missed in the yard. I’m thinking of belling the dog when she is inside so if I hear the rapid tolling off the bell I’ll know she is up to something. Good thing she is so cute.

When I was a kid, I was busy every summer day, even in a soft rain. I went to the park below my street and played games like horseshoes, tennis and softball. I made some crafts. I was a pro at lanyards made from gimp. I could also make bracelets in a flat sort of weaving pattern. I remember my biggest accomplishment was painting a wooden tray decorated with leaves and flowers. I so neatly painted I never once missed the pattern. I figured it was a talent honed by coloring inside the lines.

I can barely wait for movies on the deck season, but the nights are still a bit chilly. Last year I bought a few new movies, but we had no movie nights last year so they are still new movies. A couple are my favorite B science fiction movies in black and white. I can’t remember which creatures, but I think one has murderous aliens. Bring on the popcorn!!

This is my July 4th posting. It describes the history of July 4th and our celebrations to memorialize the day. I just hope today we’ll celebrate together.

I just love birthdays and today is the grandest of them all. 

On July 3rd 1776, John Adams wrote a letter to his wife Abigail. In it, he predicted the celebrations for American Independence Day, including the parties:

“It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews, Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other.”

John Adams expected July 2nd to be Independence Day as that was the day the Second Continental Congress voted for independence, but the signing ceremony for the Declaration of Independence didn’t happen until two days later so because July 4th appears on the Declaration, it became the date we celebrate Independence.

I know some people complain that the meaning of the day is lost in the barbecues and the fireworks, but they have forgotten John Adams’ hope. We are honoring the day exactly as he wished. Flags are waving everywhere. Families get together to celebrate and to break bread, albeit hot dog rolls. Fireworks illuminate the sky. Baseball is played on small town fields and in huge stadiums. Drums beat the cadence in parades. We sing rousing songs celebrating America and our freedom. We also sing heartfelt songs about what America means to us. We are many sorts of people, we Americans. We don’t all look the same, practice the same religion, eat the same foods or dress in the same way, but we all celebrate today.

“You have to love a nation that celebrates its independence every July 4th, not with a parade of guns, tanks, and soldiers who file by the White House in a show of strength and muscle, but with family picnics where kids throw Frisbees, the potato salad gets iffy, and the flies die from happiness. You may think you have overeaten, but it is patriotism.” Happy Birthday, America, from all of us Americans.

Today is cold, in the very low 60’s. It is also dark. Rain is expected this afternoon into the night and continuing tomorrow with a low of 58˚. That’s even a cold spring day. The roads over the bridges to the cape were bumper to bumper traffic yesterday. Today the tourists will be out and about trying to find something to do in the rain. The main roads will be clogged with slow moving cars filled with tourists craning their necks from side to side so as not to miss anything. I’ll stay home.

Last night I decided hot dogs were the perfect dinner. I am a fan of hot dogs and always have some on hand. Four dogs were left but only two buns. I figured I’d cook all four and share with Nala and Henry. I went into the bathroom, and when I returned to the kitchen, the hot dogs were gone and so was Nala. When she steals something, she runs outside to hide her crime. I went to look and saw her running in the yard with her prize in her mouth. I went back inside and cooked eggs for dinner. The sad, leftover buns were my toast.

My kitchen floor is a disgrace. It is criss-crossed with muddy paw prints. I hate it, but I have to leave it be through tomorrow’s rain. It would silly to wash it now, but that floor is driving me crazy.

When I was a kid, our dog Duke stole a roast beef off the counter. It was sitting there defrosting for dinner. My brother and I wrested the meat from Duke’s mouth. He wasn’t happy but gave up his prize anyway. We washed the beef and pressed the meat to hid the toothmarks. My mother was never the wiser.

I remember one July 4th. We were in the next town over at my dad’s friend’s house. It was on the parade route so we’d sit on the porch to watch the parade, an amazing parade of floats, bands, drill teams and drum corps. We’d nosh on snacks and appetizers during the festivities then have barbecue for supper, we kids that is. The adults ordered Chinese food. I can still see all the white containers sitting on the kitchen island. I asked my mother if I could taste some of it. She said no. Chinese food is not good for children, only adults. Sometime later, after I’d eaten Chinese food and didn’t die or get hives, I remembered the adults only comment and realized that my mother had told a lie of convenience so the adults wouldn’t have to share.

Okay, my frustration level is about as high as it ever gets. I have been on line for close to three hours trying to find alternative download and post music videos sites. I was not successful which is why you see only one song today. I have been all over the net visiting at least twenty sites giving instructions about downloading blocked videos on YouTube, but I failed miserably. I asked for some help earlier but I figured we were all in the same no-download boat, so to speak. Please help if you can. I think I need a nap after all of the hunting and finding nothing.

Last night the evening got cooler, the wind blew then the rain started. It was gentle at first, and both dogs went out for a bit, but in a short while, the rain got heavy, noisy. I could hear it hitting the metal barrel on the deck. Henry did go out later but reluctantly. Nala went out, turned around and came back inside. After the trauma of their getting wet, we three shared some watermelon. Both dogs love watermelon. I am happy to share.

This morning is damp, chilly and quite dark. Heavy rain is predicted. Light rain started earlier then stopped, but that is only a temporary reprieve.

When I was at home in Ghana, I bought my fruit in the market. On the road, I bought from hucksters. Oranges and bananas were the fruits I usually bought as they were easy to eat and didn’t need to be washed, just peeled. Ghana was where I tasted my first mango. I didn’t like mangoes at first, but they sort of grew (really?) on me. I loved pineapple, the sweet pineapple. I also tasted my first pawpaw (papaya). The Peace Corps cook book, Ghana Chop, called it the amazing pawpaw. It was versatile and even tasted like apple when baked in a pie. I saw coconuts in the wild, hanging from palm trees. One of my favorite snacks, usually sold on the street by small girls, was a toasted coconut ball. I had a bowl of fruit for lunch every day. They were the freshest fruits I have ever eaten.

When I was a kid, penny candy had amazing choices, and all of them were really a penny. Fireballs were my favorites. They lasted the longest especially when I’d have to take the fire ball out of my mouth because of the heat. Candy buttons weren’t the easiest to eat. I had to be careful not to get any paper with the buttons, an almost impossible task. Root beer barrels are still among my favorites. When I was in Ghana, I craved root beer. Mary Janes took a lot of chewing as did Squirrel Nut Zippers. Sometimes the wrappers stuck to the candy. If I couldn’t take off the wrapper remnants I ate the candy anyway. I was a kid.

My to-do list is empty, not because there is nothing to do, but because I don’t want to do anything. My car has filled trash bags in the trunk waiting for a dump run, but today is an ugly day, a day to stay home, warm and dry. I declare today a sloth day.

Today was sunny when I woke up, but since then clouds have arrived, and the day is getting a bit dark. Rain is predicted for tonight, but maybe it will arrive sooner. I’ll be glad for the rain and glad, even more, for the thunder and lightning. 84˚ is the current temperature. I turned on my air conditioner when I got downstairs. and the dogs are lolling on the couch.

Last night I woke up and called Henry to come upstairs. I turned on the hall light and saw Jack downstairs lying on the floor. I was happy to see he gets out of his cat room to roam a bit. He loves Henry so Jack must have felt safe. Nala, the terror dog, was asleep on my bed. She cries at Jack. He just stays out of her reach near the hole in the gate protecting the cat room. Jack drives Nala crazy.

We got our first kitten when I was sixteen. We waited until my father was not home except for weekends. He had been transferred, and we would not be moving until after school ended. When my father found out, he told my mother to get rid of the cat. My father was not a cat lover. Dogs were masculine. Cats were feminine. We didn’t rid of the cat. My father wasn’t happy until he was lying in bed watching TV, and the cat jumped on the bed, licked him and snuggled. My father was smitten. From then on, my parents had two cats and a dog. That first cat, Gideon, loved my father more than any other human. The rest of us just happened to live in the same house as my Dad. Gideon even went in the car with my Dad, slept behind him on the top of my Dad’s seat and leaned on him for the whole ride. My father became a cat lover, and my parents always had cats after that.

When I was a kid, I always felt safe. I knew bogeymen weren’t real and neither was the guy with the hook, but I do remember once, I think I was probably ten, when we were visiting my grandparents in East Boston. We, including me, my brother, my uncle, two years older than I, were going to the MDC pool near the science museum. We were taking the subway. While waiting in the station for the train, I was approached by a man who offered me candy if I went with him. He told me I just had to move to the other side of the station. I remember the guy had bad teeth and was wearing a hat. I said no but that didn’t deter him. He tried again. That’s when I got scared and ran to my brother and uncle. They asked what was the matter. I said nothing was the matter. I never told them or my parents about the guy who, after that, just disappeared off the station platform. I felt relieved and safe and even a bit brave.

The morning ran away from me. I woke up late, took my time reading the papers, chatted with my former neighbor, also my landscaper, and watched a bit of the news. I don’t know why I watch the news. It seldom changes. Inside my house, my world may be small, but it is a good world. The air conditioner is keeping the heat, extreme for this time of year, at bay. The dogs love the coolness and chase each around the house. Groceries from the organic store were just delivered. I treated myself to Tate’s chocolate chip cookies and some chocolate wafers. I now have tomatoes, raspberries and bananas. The dogs will be happy. They are banana fans. My groceries filled just one bag, and I am $60+ poorer. My trash pile is mounting. It is mostly used cat litter, heavy used cat litter. I am toying with the idea of calling Skip, my factotum, to do a trash run, cut down the tall weeds in the back yard, gather the fallen branches all over the back and finally open my deck. I just hope the weather cools enough for outside work.

The only sounds are birds. I did see the baby rabbit when I got my newspaper. It scurried to hide in the flowers, well buds not yet flowers, in the front garden. The rabbit seems to have found a home here much to the amusement of my dogs. They love watching out the front door. Nala is a trash bag picker. Like Gracie did, she sneaks stuff out of the bag and runs outside so I won’t catch her. Last night I found the remnants of cardboard trash bag container in pieces on the deck. She also stole a bag of exotic tea bags I was saving for a friend. She got them from a box in my room. She didn’t like the tea but she loved the mesh bag holding the tea. I took from her mouth and found another piece outside.

When I was a kid, I went to Girl Scout day camp. We were the oldest campers. I remember when we had to take down the flag each afternoon, fold it and put it away for the next day. Facing each other during the folding was our undoing. We had to look away or we would have laughed out loud. The counselors were not happy. We got the role model speech. I enjoyed the camp. I learned how to make hobo stew. We went hiking through the pine woods. It always felt cool on the paths under the trees. Our last camp activity was an overnight in the lodge. The lodge smelled of camp fires. The walls were all pine wood. The kitchen was inside as was the counselors’ room. The bathrooms were a step away. They had plumbing. We slept on cots, the old canvas cots with wooden legs and end pieces. They were folded and tucked away in storage under benches. Opening them was like trying to solve a puzzle. During the night sometimes, a cot would collapse at one end. That was always funny and a counselor always told us to go back to sleep. Fun was easy when I was a kid.

Today I spent almost two hours trying to find a place from which to post music. YouTube blocked just about every video I tried to post. The copyright code is imbedded in many of the downloads so I got that black square forbidding the posting. Next I hunted for alternatives to YouTube. I found a couple of songs on other sites, but not the songs I was searching to find. Finally I gave up after posting three videos, one from YouTube, an old song, and the other two from other sites. I am frustrated. If you know a YouTube like site, please share. I’d appreciate it.

The closed house still holds the chill from yesterday when the AC blasted most of the afternoon and evening. Another hot day is predicted for today. Even now it is already 86˚, but worst than the high temperature is the humidity at 72%. I will be staying close to hearth and home today and will be wearing the least amount of clothes decency will allow.

Oh, to be young again when weather hardly mattered. I could play softball at the park even under the heat of the afternoon sun. Hydrate was an unknown word and never encouraged, but I would stop to drink, if I needed water, at the bubbler close to the field in the park. Even my dog Duke drank from the bubbler. He’d stand upright on his back paws and slurp the water.

Yesterday, the new renters next door were on their deck. One woman laughed like a horse neighing. Every time she did Henry barked and ran to the front door. He couldn’t be convinced it wasn’t from a horse draw carriage rolling down the street. That was when I shut all the windows and turned on the AC.

When I was a kid, I remember lying in bed with my head on my pillow and feeling water drain from my ear. It was warm water. It was ocean water from swimming at the beach. I used to love swimming underwater. I always kept my eyes opened hoping to find a treasure. I never did. I never saw much except a few shells and peoples’ legs and feet.

I found a tick on Nala. It was still moving around. I checked the rest of her and didn’t find any more. I checked Henry and found none. Both have short fur making hunting easier. Yesterday’s tick makes it 3 to 1: three for me and one for the dogs.

I don’t remember my mother ever making pancakes. That was fine with me as I didn’t like them. They had a weird consistency. I liked eggs for a more formal breakfast than cereal. My mother took requests. Scrambled with cheese or fried eggs over easy were my favorites. There was a technique I always employed when eating the fried eggs. I’d eat the white around the yolks first then I’d break the yolk. One piece of toast was used to mop up each egg’s yoke. If I did it right, the dish was clean. The dog was always disappointed.