I am going off cape now. I have decided to go for the wake today rather than the funeral tomorrow. That way I will get more of a chance to talk with my cousins and my sister Moe who flew in last night from Colorado. I haven’t seen Moe or the cousins for a long time. I tend to stay home.

Uncle Jack was a good guy.

The morning is cloudy and damp. It rained a few drops at the wrong time for me, not unexpectedly. That’s just the way it is some days. Anyway, I was watching Henry from inside the back door. He was wandering in the yard almost out of sight so I opened the door wider to see him and saw a deceased baby spawn on one back step. I had never seen a baby spawn before this morning. I felt bad that this one will never grow up to drive me crazy and eat my bird seed. I picked it up in paper towels and tossed it out of the yard. I can’t think Henry is to blame though he is the only one. Usually Henry is a quick outside and back inside. I know because I have to open the door. I couldn’t leave the spawn in my yard even buried. Henry has quite the smelling ability. Okay, as for the rain, it started to rain just as I found the deceased, and it rained while I sent him to his great reward outside my fence. When I got to the back door, the rain stopped. It’s a weird day already.

I went out to get my papers this morning and met a neighbor from a couple of streets over. She said I was early. She was right. She has been tossing my papers into the yard whenever she finds them by the car. She said she knew I had a bad back. She’s right though I don’t know how she knew. She complimented me on my Red Sox sweatshirt and said she was a fan. We finally introduced ourselves then she returned to her walk. It was nice to meet a neighbor.

I actually have breakfast items. My larder has English muffins and cranberry-orange scones, both unopened. This morning I had my two cups of coffee but wasn’t hungry. Perhaps I’ll make a lunch sandwich with the English muffin and some turkey.

The weather report is for cool temperatures and down to the 50’s tonight. Yesterday we were nearly 30 degrees colder than Boston. Today it will be the same. It is 62˚ right now. I’ll be home all day as I haven’t any need to be out.

I almost brought my laundry downstairs. I gave it a look as I walked by the basket but then I kept walking. The time to do laundry is getting closer. First comes the look then comes the hauling then finally the washing, the drying and the folding.

PS. Sebastien came to turn on my irrigation and open the outdoor shower. In the yard, we found another deceased spawn. That excludes Henry. Sebastien thinks it could be a bird tossing out the babies to take the nest. Jack just rolled off the table. I’m living in a B science fiction movie.

Today is cooler than it has been, and there are clouds to hide the sun in a sort of peek-a-boo game. The breeze is now and then and is strong at times. I’m back to wearing my sweatshirt.

My to do list isn’t. I’ve decided that holding myself to completing tasks on a list is too much pressure. If I happen to see something and I’m in the mood, I’ll clean it, move it or toss it. It is just one of those days.

Today, I am a risk taker. I am going to pull down the dead deck lights and give the spawns new targets by putting up another set of lights. Henry misses the deck lights and will not go out at night unless I turn on the porch light. Today, I am a realist so I’m going to order a couple of sets of lights from Amazon to keep on hand.

The other night I had to go to the car. My street is quite dark: no streetlights, few neighbors. Usually I just put on the front light, but it is broken, hanging from the socket. I opened the front door, surveyed the yard and decided it was too dark to make a run to the car, but I have a Coleman lantern. My friends gave it to me one Christmas. I keep it in the kitchen. Anyway, the other night, I lit the lamp and used it to light my way to the car. I felt like Florence Nightingale, the lady with the lamp. My mind is curious at times, actually strange at times, and it does hold far too many useless facts. Remembering Florence is an example. I don’t even know when last I thought about Florence Nightingale, but there she was popping into my head as I walked with my lamp held in front of me. It was a mini time warp.

When I was a kid, time just sort of moved without too much notice. Every week was the same so the weeks mostly ran together. Some weeks were highlighted by days like Christmas and Thanksgiving but time ran fast all around them. I’d lose track and wouldn’t catch up until spring when the world and I sort of woke up together. I walked faster in the mornings buoyed by the sun. I longed for after school, for playtime, for bike riding. The passing of the days mattered the warmer it got. Counting the days slowed down time. I understood the watched pot. About this time of year, we’d be about two weeks or just a bit more away from summer vacation. Those two weeks took months.

The blue sky extends forever and the sun is bright and warm. I have ditched my sweatshirt. I’m in summer t-shirt mode. Yesterday I cleaned the dining room. I’m talking moving furniture and clearing the webs of time. During the cleaning, I’d stop and sit down and figure I’d done enough then I’d get up and do more. I’m back to cleaning a room a day, downstairs. I close my eyes when I get upstairs where both bedroom are messy and cluttered. One room is the cats’ mess. The other is my mess. The to do list which first had cleaning upstairs on it is now brittle and yellowed. I keep adding upstairs to new lists as sort of a homage.

I’m living in a Goldilocks’ dilemma. Such is my life now. Last week my favorite coffee cup broke, one I’d been using for years. Since then I have been on a quest to replace that cup and have had no success. The first couple of cups were too small. Today’s cup was too big and too heavy. My cabinet is filled with cups. This could take a while.

I do need to go out today, the second time this week. One more time will be a new record. I have retired my previous outside clothes to the growing pile of laundry. They served me well.

My uncle died yesterday, my favorite uncle. He was my mother’s younger brother, ten years younger than she and ten years older than I. Uncle Jack loved Bing Crosby and fancied himself a bit of a Bing. When I was in Ghana, my sister sent me a mixed tape of songs off the radio. I played it as soon as I got it, and what a surprise I had. Right in the middle of the radio songs was my Uncle Jack singing. I loved it. My sister later told me he had asked what she was doing and then asked for the mike. On most Fridays, my Uncle Jack was at my parents’ house. They played card games, sang and had a few drinks. If my phone rang on a Friday around 1 or 2 AM, I knew who it was. I’d pick up the phone and say hello. My Uncle Jack would say, “Leenie,” his nickname for me, from Kathleen, and then start singing. I dearly loved my Uncle Jack.

Today is of those days, a good one of those days. I woke up to a warm, sunny morning. The coffee was delicious, from Peru I think. The papers were filled with the CDC announcement about masks. I finished the crossword puzzle but not the cryptogram. I took my time. It just feels like that sort of a day, a day to take it easy, a day meant to be enjoyed.

I was busy yesterday. I cleaned down the dusty, covered in pet fur stairs then gave them a quick wipe. I continued to work on the kitchen grout. I vacuumed the living room and the dining room. I didn’t mind. I’ve also been relocating stuff from the den. It will always be cluttered but maybe less cluttered. It was a satisfying day.

When I’m on the computer, the TV is also on but it can’t be on a program needing watching. I often get lost on the computer reading strange information I happened upon or doing a jigsaw puzzle or hunting recipes. All of a sudden it could be an hour later so I usually put on a movie or program I knew well so I can lose it but pick it up anywhere. I’m watching Star Trek: The Voyage Home, one of my favorites. I know a lot of the lines.

When I was a kid, I wasn’t all that moody. I saved that for my teen years. I was happy or sad or angry or some feeling in between. I didn’t know the word boredom, but I used to complain there was nothing to do. In school, my feelings were mostly on idle. It was just sit and learn and be quiet unless asked a question. It was only in the school yard at recess when we could let go. There was screaming and yelling and running. That was when I punched the kid. That was an angry me who would reappear years later but only once, a story for another day.

For the last year I have been by myself dealing with myself and have become quite familiar with all my different moods. There are days when I can’t bring myself to do anything. Those are my least favorite days. Yesterday I got so much done, a favorite day. Today I am celebrating my industry of yesterday. I feel almost buoyant. The sun is absolutely beautiful. The little breeze is just right. Everything is a bright green, even my car covered with pollen. My house looks clean, especially the stairs which seem always to be dusty. Even the hall is clean of dust. I’m so enjoying today.

The sun is squint your eyes bright. I’m thinking of sitting on the deck and reading the day away so as not to miss any of that warmth, any of that light. This whole week will be sunny and warm, a few showers maybe but still warm in the 70’s. I’m about to shed my sweatshirt.

Yesterday, the dump was as busy as I’ve even seen it. I went about a half hour before closing but still had to wait for a parking spot beside the recycle bins. My back seat was filled with boxes, the biggest ones from Chewy. My front seat had papers and magazines in shopping bags. The trunk was filled. Two of the bags were so heavy with litter I had to drag them from the trunk to the bin. The new litter was delivered late yesterday so I changed the cat box this morning and put the bag into the trunk, the first bag.

I will replace the deck lights today. That is the only thing. The dirty clothes will sit upstairs another day. I may relent and vacuum the litter, but that depends on how annoyed I am by the crunching.

I avoid math. It was my toughest subject starting in high school when I couldn’t use my fingers to count any more. I was learning algebra in the ninth grade. Even then I knew I’d never use algebra, and no one could give me a reason for spending a whole school year on one useless subject. I looked it up the other day. The reasons for learning algebra include: algebra is faster and better than basic math, it could be a job skill later on, algebra can be useful in life and it’s beautiful. I know a mathematician wrote the article I read. Beautiful? Really?

When I was a kid, the longer afternoons this time of year made for staying outside and playing games like tag or even bike riding but in the neighborhood. Supper was usually a little while after we went inside. During the wait for supper, I did my homework or watched TV if I had no homework. Kids’ shows were on in the early afternoon. I remember the Mickey Mouse Club and Superman. Back then, I didn’t question that nobody recognized Clark when he was Superman or thought all his absences a bit too coincidental. I did wish I could fly, still do.

Maybe I should just start every musing with ditto on the weather. Today, though, I get to say we’re in the 70’s. What a delight!! The day is perfect. More flowers have bloomed in the front garden. The slight morning breeze barely ruffles the small leaves hanging off the oak branches. I was out on the deck for a while and reluctantly came back inside to make my coffee. Just imagine how beautiful the morning is if I am reluctant to go inside even to make coffee.

I watch old TV mostly in the wee hours. Some of my favorite shows are just awful in retrospect. I have trouble imaging the me who enjoyed them. Now I often scoff. A few of them, though, have aged well. I enjoy Kolchak, the Night Stalker. I like looking at the clothes in Lost in Space. They are a monument to the colors of the 60’s as is Buck Rogers which I don’t watch. Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea is dizzying. The Seaview goes back and forth and throws crewmen against the walls in every episode. I just shake my head and keep watching.

My mood fluctuates. Nothing triggers it. That’s just the way it’s been lately in this weird time. The last few days, actually the last week or so, I haven’t had the wherewithal to do a thing. I didn’t even make a list. I barely moved off the couch. Brushing my teeth was a chore. I rested in the middle.

The mop, the vacuum and the dust cloths have been sitting in my upstairs hall for well over a week. I acknowledged the pile by stepping over it. When I went into the cats’ room, I could hear the crunch of litter as I walked. Shrinking the size of the contact by tip toeing didn’t help. That was a last ditch silly effort doomed to failure from the start. Anyway, back to the story, back to the drama. Last night, around 2 AM, I was lying in bed hunting the elusive Morpheus. It was then I decided I couldn’t stand it anymore. I jumped up and vacuumed the cats’ room. I wet mopped the floor. I vacuumed then washed the bathroom floor. I used all the cleaning supplies from the hall. I went to sleep happy.

Today I expect to go to the dump. My trunk is filled mostly with bags of wet, heavy cat litter. One more bag is upstairs. I couldn’t carry it down as my hands were full of cleaning supplies. I hope to vacuum down here and wash the kitchen floor. I’m happy and productive, but I’d prefer a happy mood which doesn’t include cleaning.

We are well into spring. I’m being definitive. The weather is finally consistently warm. Today will reach 70˚. I have opened windows on both floors. It is time to blow away the dust. It is time to embrace the warmth of spring, to let the fresh air into the house. I’m thinking flower shopping this week. A few warm days does that to me, has me dreaming.

I have given up on deck lights. The newest set is dead. It lasted a couple of weeks. I haven’t done the autopsy yet, but I’m guessing the wire has been bitten in half somewhere along the strand. Those lights have been replaced so many times I’ve lost count. I do have one more set, but I’ll hold on a bit longer. The only complication is Henry won’t go out the dog door at night without lights. Brave boy!

When I lived in Ghana, I ate just about the same thing every day. In the morning it was eggs over easy and toast, sugar bread toast slathered in margarine. Usually I had a couple of cups of coffee then another cup or two between classes. Lunch was fresh fruit, the usual fruits like oranges, pineapples, bananas, pawpaw and mango. Dinner was beef more often than chicken. I bought the beef already cut. The chickens were still alive. The meat market where I bought my beef was gross, but I remember that mostly in hindsight. Most things went unnoticed. It was just life in Ghana.

Each time I’ve gone to Ghana, my joy at being back overwhelms me. I love the sounds of the different languages. The air is redolent and filled with the smell of thick greenery and of charcoal burning. Roasting plantain can be bought along the roadside. The oranges are sweet. I roam the markets, eat street food, bargain for taxi rides and enjoy jollof rice almost every dinner. Everything is familiar. I had preserved well my memories. Just before I left Ghana and Peace Corps, I knew I needed to remember everything. I wanted the colors, the tastes and the sounds to be a part of me always. I kept the Ghanaians close too my heart for all those years away. I want one more trip.

Today is even lovelier than yesterday. It will reach 69˚ for the high. If I were the weatherman, I’d be tempted to bump the temperature one more degree. Who would know? It would be a kindness. 70˚ sounds so much warmer than 69˚.

My view out the den window is narrow, but I can see the bright green new leaves on the oak tree beside the deck starting to unfurl. The big oak in the back of the yard already has leaves. It is in the perfect spot to catch the afternoon sun. I was going to try to get my dump sticker today, but I have decided to stay home. I thought about going out, but I’d have to take only right turns. I slept wrong so if I turn my head to the left, my neck hurts, a yelping hurt. I did imagine the ride to town hall, and I’d have to travel miles to find those right turns.

When I woke up with a sore neck, that tempered my morning. I didn’t talk I yelled at Henry to stop barking and to Jack to stop eating pencil erasers. Both of them wisely left to other rooms but Jack has returned. He is sleeping on the back of the couch behind me on an afghan. I can hear him lightly snoring. Henry is upstairs on my bed taking his morning nap, not to be confused with his afternoon nap, his early evening nap and his late night nap.

I washed the kitchen floor yesterday. It was not on any list. I just couldn’t take the paw prints anymore. The floor looks great. Today I’ll work on upstairs. I vacuumed last night, but I need to wash the bathroom floor. Jack is a messy drinker when he bellies up to the toilet. When I was patting Jack this morning, I found at least four clumps. I got three out but the fourth took a bit of doing. Jack whacked me. I stopped but I did get the clump. There are more, but I’ll comb him.

Little did I know how many Godzilla movies there are. He fights every monster I know and several I don’t know. I was looking for something to watch this morning when I happened on the Godzilla list. The Godzilla titles are so numerous many include the year of the movie to help keep track of their chronology. I have seen the original but only once. It was made in 1954. The latest is from 2019, Godzilla: King of the Monsters. You need to pay to see that one. I wonder if many people have seen it. Some of the others you also have pay to watch. Godzilla Against Mechagodzilla is one of those for rent. I was not even tempted; however, I have keyed the original. I haven’t seen it in a while, but I have to end here so I can read the subtitles. I think it’s a great way to spend the afternoon, and my TV is at a right angle from the couch.

Last night it rained. I noticed the drops on the back door. I didn’t even ask Henry if he wanted out. He is a dog with sound judgment so he would back away from the door. I don’t know how long it rained. Henry went out a couple of hours later.

I went out yesterday to my morning uke lesson then went home a roundabout way just for the ride. It was a pretty day. Lots of pink trees have bloomed. Some trees have red buds getting close to being leaves. Tulips and dafs are along the front gardens of houses. They are easy to see being so bright and so tall. I stopped at Nancy’s Candies and bought some red licorice, 2 chocolate covered Oreos, and 2 dark chocolate peanut butter cups. I loved my ride, and I really loved my stop at Nancy’s.

Today is a gorgeous day. The sun is squint your eyes bright, and it is already 63˚. Everything in the backyard is glinting in the sun. The air is so still nothing is moving. The birds are noisy. I have to go out again today. I’m glad. I’m thinking another ride, the long way around again but the other long way around.

When I was a kid, I would have loved a morning like today’s. I remember the walk to school under the trees on sunny, warm spring mornings. The leaves were still small so the sun shined through to the sidewalk, not yet dappled in shade. The houses next to the sidewalk had small front lawns. I think the road was widened so the sidewalk was moved long before I lived there. They were the old houses I passed on my walk to school. In my town, the old houses were the biggest. Many of them were painted white. I knew a kid in school who lived in one. He was a nice kid, but I was always in awe of where he lived. What’s funny is I still remember his name though I haven’t seen or heard of him since I graduated from grammar school, but thoughts of old houses bring him back to mind. In my memory drawer, he is forever connected to the big old white house on Franklin Street just off the square.