Keep the Coffee Comimg

The morning is pretty. The sun is bright. The sky is a muted blue. Even the smallest branch sits still. The leaves have no flutter. It is 41˚, chilly but not cold. The day will get warmer, as high as 54˚. I have a few chores. My little library needs tending. The dreaded laundry is piled high and it too needs tending. My plants are gasping and need water. I might even make my bed, but that might be over the line.

The dogs are enjoying the morning. They were chasing each other in the yard, but Nala got distracted. She found the last Chinese lantern on the deck. It had been on a tree limb overhanging the deck. She is now tearing the lantern apart. Yesterday I cleared the remnants of the purple lantern. This one is aqua.

This morning I had a small animal hunt. Gwen had gone to ground. I checked under both beds but couldn’t see her. She is, after all, black, a perfect color to hide under the beds. I moved the lamp to the floor and found her way back under one bed. I got her shot ready, but she was gone from that spot. I brought the lamp to the floor again and found her only because her eyes lit up in the light. This time I was ready. I had the needle all set, and she got her morning dose and a few treats. When I got up, I knocked over the water dish. It was not at all fun for either of us.

I have three lamps I love. All are from a local potter. One is tall and decorative. It is in the living room on the first piece of furniture I ever bought for this house, an old kitchen table with a leaf and two drawers. The other two have African accents. Both are here in the den. The lamp on the table has an African face, exaggerated a bit, on both sides. I had commissioned it. The potter made a couple of different lamps. I took both of them. The other is black and adobe colored. It looks like a decorative African compound like the ones in villages near where I lived, like the compounds in Sirigu.

My rooms in Ghana each had one hanging lamp. They reminded me of a bedroom in a cheap hotel. I made a basket lamp shade for the living room light. It fancied the bulb. I left the rest naked.

Last night was cold, down to the 30’s. I burrowed under the down comforter, slept longer than I have lately, woke up to let the dogs out then went back to bed. I slept another hour with the dogs joining me. The house was cold when I finally woke up so I turned up the heat. I’m comfortable now.

The weather is lovely. It will reach the 50’s and be sunny most of the day. Both doors are opened. The dogs love to look out the front door to see what’s happening in the neighborhood. They alert me when anyone goes by the house whether on foot or in a car.

Gwen had more testing all day yesterday. The vet called and said her numbers were still high, but she had gained more weight, a good sign. Her insulin stays the same, and she doesn’t need to go back for two weeks and even then only for a single test. She looks alert, moves around a bit more and the litter box stays dry far longer, more good signs. I just hope her count lowers.

Henry comes in the dog door at least once a day. It has only taken four years and Nala to prod him. I was shocked the first couple of times. Now I’m beginning to raise my expectations.

When I was a kid, this was my favorite day of the week. I didn’t have any have-to-dos. From the time I woke up until I sat down to hot dogs, beans and brown bread for supper, the whole day was mine. In the winter, it was matinee movie day. In the fall, it was mostly a ride my bike day. I used to ride to different parts of my town and sometimes to the next town for a change of scenery. I’d try to take different routes to the same places. One town over had railroad tracks, an old station and daily trains. I used to sit on a bench in front of the station and wait for the train. I always wanted to be on that train.

My brother used to ride his bike to Horn Pond, in a different town over, to go fishing. Sometimes I’d ride with him, and we’d both fish. I remember catfish on the hook. We always released. We never ate catfish. My father used to say they were bottom feeders as if that were such a bad thing. He did eat other bottom feeding fish like haddock and cod and for reasons unknown only reserved his disdain for the catfish. It took me a while before I’d eat catfish. I remember I had catfish nuggets as an appetizer, my first time tasting them. It was not my last.

Earlier, in the chilliest part of the morning, Gwen and I went to the vets. She’ll be there all day for her glucose panels and such. On the way home from the vets I even went to the dump, an impromptu decision. It was cold there with the wind whipping across the open sand. Only a few other people had bravely faced the elements.

When I went out, the sun was bright, but since then clouds have taken over the sky for the meantime. It will be the same all day, sun and clouds. The breeze is constant and strong enough to whip the highest branches of the pine trees left and right. My yard is cleared of flower stems, branches and shriveled brown leaves just in time for more leaves to take their places. The oak tree is almost bare.

My dance card is empty until Monday. I have decided to spend a decadent weekend eating bon bons while wearing my comfiest clothes and lounging on the chaise. I just need the chaise lounge and the bon bons. I am awash with comfy clothes.

When I was in the sixth grade, I vowed I’d travel. I wanted to visit everywhere. My first trip was with the family to Canada and the falls. I remember we did the walk behind the falls with all of us wearing unfashionable yellow slickers with hoods. My father, when he was young, had made the same trip. The two family pictures with all of us wearing those slickers were almost the same except we had one more kid. I gave my sisters framed copies of the photos as one of their Christmas presents. My sister Moe wanted to know who the pioneers were. We both laughed when I told her it was our family.

I saw my first palm tree in Ghana, and it was also where I saw pineapples growing and almost ripe hanging bananas. They were signs I was somewhere exotic, at least to me, because I lived in the land of apples and pears. Nothing I read from Peace Corps prepared me for the sights, sounds and smells of Ghana. Every day I saw something extraordinary. Every day for those two years I etched Ghana into my memory drawers. I saved the sights of women in colorful cloths with babies on their backs and of markets filled with stalls. I remembered the sounds of languages I didn’t understand except to say hello. I kept all of Ghana close. I fulfilled my sixth grade vow.

The morning is cold. Last night was even colder, an under the down comforter and thanks for the warm dogs cold. Today’s high will only be 51˚, and it will be mostly cloudy. The only to do list item is the laundry, but I find that easy to ignore.

When I went outside to get the papers yesterday, I opened the door and was taken aback by the turkeys in the front yard. There were about eight of them. A couple were really plump and as pretty as turkeys can get.

My yard was totally cleaned yesterday afternoon. There were guys with leaf blowers in the front and back. Henry barked at each of them from the front and back doors. Another guy was cutting the dead perennials to the ground. My front fence is again standing upright, but my mailbox still leans.

Last night I actually cooked dinner. It was pork and a roasted honeynut squash. I had never tasted honeynut squash before last night. If ever a vegetable can be called cute, it is the honeynut squash, a sort of little sister to butternut squash. I just sprinkled it with salt and pepper and put it in the oven.

When I was a kid, the trash truck came once a week. In the early morning of trash day, even before I left for school, gray metal barrels, mostly dented metal barrels, were on the sidewalks in front of each house in a random line as if in a sort of display. My father put his barrels out just before he left for work and took them in when he got home. They were kept in the cellar. When we moved to the cape, the barrels came with us. I remember them in the backyard next to the house, some with covers which were too dented to fit anymore. Every weekend my father loaded the barrels in the trunk and went to the dump as there was no trash pickup. He loved going to the dump. Back then the dump had huge heaps of trash and loud, noisy seagulls on the ground and in the air circling the heaps. When I would go home for the weekend from school, my father always invited me to go to the dump with him. It was a grand invitation.

I have a couple of barrels stored under the deck. One is metal and the other plastic. The metal one has weathered well over the years. The plastic one is split in places. Both are filled with yard trash, mostly small limbs and branches. I haven’t ever emptied them or taken them to the dump. They just sit there. I always think of them as waiting for my father.

The air is crisp. Last night was cold. The morning sun is glinting through the trees and highlighting the thick branches of the oak trees, the ones by the deck. Nothing is moving. It is quiet. Even the leaves at the end of the branches are still. Everything is pretty in the sunlight.

The house is clean. The backyard is escape proof. The front lawn and deck are clear of leaves and debris. Fallen trunks from small, dead trees were hauled out of the backyard now made ready for winter.

The weather forecast is for a passing shower this afternoon. We’ll be in the 50’s today and the rest of the week. The nights will drop to the 40’s. Fall is giving way to colder days and nights.

When I was a kid, I resisted as long as I could, but as the mornings grew colder, my mother insisted I wear a sweater under my jacket on the walk to school.

I loved the first morning I could see my breath. The air was clean, clear. The sunlight was sharp but not so warm anymore. My footsteps echoed on the sidewalk. Fallen leaves filled the gutters. Fall was disappearing before my very eyes.

When we got home from school, we had to change into our play clothes. Back then, my wardrobe was divided into school clothes, play clothes and church clothes. My school clothes were a blue skirt, white blouse and a blue tie, our school uniform. My church clothes were a dress or skirt and a blouse. My play clothes were seasonal. In the warmer seasons I wore shorts, a sleeveless blouse and sneakers. When it got cold, I’d wear my dungarees, girly dungarees with a zipper in the side pocket, and long sleeve shirts. My favorites were flannel shirts, still are.

On school days, breakfasts changed with the seasons. On the warmer days it was cereal, dry cereal with milk, and on the colder days it was sometimes oatmeal with butter and brown sugar or eggs, mostly soft-boiled eggs in yellow chicken egg cups. I remember the breakfast table. A teapot filled with hot water sat in the middle. That was for the tea drinkers. I was a cocoa drinker. My mother made that cup by cup. I remember there were bubbles on the top of the cocoa. Once a while, we’d just have toast and our hot drink of choice. I remember the toast buttered then covered in cinnamon. That was a treat.

In Ghana my breakfasts didn’t change for the whole two years. I ate two eggs cooked in groundnut oil (peanut oil), two pieces of toast and a couple of mugs of instant coffee, the only coffee sold. I loved the fresh bread and the taste of those eggs. I never tired of that breakfast.

A cacophony is the only way to describe this morning. My housecleaner is here, and she is vacuuming upstairs. Nala is barking at the vacuum, and Henry is barking at my cleaning lady. She is unruffled. In my yard, branches are being piled, the back fence is getting fixed, the deck has been cleaned, the front fence is upright again, and the lawn has been cleaned of debris and leaves. I heard the blowers, the saws and the trucks. Henry barked, no surprise there. I got a headache, no surprise there either.

Today is lovely with lots of sun and a blue sky. It is 59˚ but the high will be over 60˚. This is a perfect fall day on Cape Cod.

My dance card is empty today. I haven’t any errands or chores, except the laundry, but I still have clean clothes so the laundry can wait. I did throw the filled pillow case down the cellar stairs in hopes of out of sight, out of mind. My yard is finished, and the dogs have been out running and attacking each other. The front yard is cleared of leaves and debris. I can see the driveway and deck now. I’m happy.

Last night I had more kids trick or treating at my house then I’ve ever had. Almost all the M&Ms are gone. The Hershey bars weren’t touched except I did treat myself to another bar last night. I’m thinking of putting the M&Ms in my little library. I have to go out to the library anyway to tighten the latch, take books away and add books so I might as well offer the M&Ms. A cozy corner, a good book and M&Ms seems like a great way to while away the afternoon.

On Halloween night, my mother used to give each of us a large bowl for our candy. We’d sit on the living room floor and pick over the pile. We’d take out any we didn’t want, especially the candy corn, and toss that pile away. We’d trade bars. We’d eat candy during the proceedings. At the end of the night, when I went upstairs to bed, I’d carry my heavy bowl and put it under my bed, an easily accessible spot for nighttime chocolate.

The last Halloween treat was we always had the next day off from school, All Saint’s Day. We did have to go to mass which put a crimp in the day, but I hid candy in my pockets and sat in the back so I could munch during mass, probably some sort of a sin unidentified in my catechism.

The morning is warm. The weather prediction said morning showers then sun. I think I slept through the showers because I can see sun and blue sky. Last night it rained, at times a heavy rain. I went out on the deck a couple of times to keep an eye on Nala, the escape artist. I just hope the branch keeping the fence upright will force Nala to stay in the yard.

When I was a kid, it never got dark early enough on Halloween. We’d try to go out in the late afternoon, but my mother stopped us, “Too early,” she aways said. We had to eat supper first. That made me unhappy for a couple of reasons. The first was I was still home with an empty pillowcase, and the second was I didn’t want to fill up on food. I wanted candy. I wanted to munch as I roamed.

We went all over town. The red house on Main Street, the one with the porch, was a nickel bar stop. I still think of that when I drive by the house. It is now a business of sorts, but it looks the same. We didn’t have the miniature bars back then so candy was often wrapped in a napkin twirled at the top. We also got apples. My favorite apples had a few pennies even the big jackpot, a nickel, pushed to the apple through the peel. I never ate the apples. Fruit on Halloween was wrong, so very wrong. Popcorn was also wrapped in a napkin sometimes with candy corn in the mix. I never liked candy corn, too grossly sweet.

My mother put the costumes together. She also did the make-up. I was a bum a couple of years. I wore tattered clothes and black make-up as if I had a beard. I carried a stick with a bundle at the end. My mask was just the mask to cover my eyes, a usually black mask. It had an elastic connected on both sides of the mask. The elastic often broke away from the mask. I’d have to make a couple of small holes to hold the elastic. Those masks never lasted beyond one Halloween.

I bought Hersey’s candy bars in case my Amazon candy didn’t come in time. That was a mistake. I’ve already eaten two bars.

Amazon came through this morning. I am giving out the regular size M&M’s. The Hershey bars are at the bottom of the plastic blue pumpkin holding the candy. I don’t expect to get down to the bottom of the pumpkin. All those Hershey bars will be mine, all mine!!!

Rains and wind are predicted for today. It rained earlier and stopped but scattered showers are predicted for the afternoon. The high will be 62˚. The sky is a dark grey. There is an occasional blast of wind which moves even the top most branches.

My neighbor from the next street behind my house came to tell me Nala had been running in his yard. By then she was back in the house. I went to the backyard to check. Two sections of the fence are leaning and not connected. A huge branch from a pine tree hit the fence exactly between those two sections. The hole between them is big enough for Nala. I did what I could, but the fence sections are far too heavy for me to lift back into place so I propped a branch hoping for the best. Another section further down is not connected but is still upright. I tried to block the hole. I’m thinking I need to take Nala into the yard on a leash. I called my friend and landscaper. He can’t come today. My factotum, Skip, does not answer his phone. I’m stuck with a downed fence.

Yesterday the world was out and about. Everywhere was busy. I went to the dump though it wasn’t on the list. I figured what the heck. After that I got my first shingles shot. My arm hurts if I lift it. I was warned that on the second day it would hurt. She called it a thick vaccine.

When I was a kid, I had all the childhood ailments. I remember chicken pox the most because it itched. My mother put mittens on my hands so I wouldn’t scratch and get scars. Our neighbor, an adult, got it and scratched. I remember the scars on her face. When I got the measles, my bedroom was kept dark so I wouldn’t go blind. I had to lie there and do nothing. I couldn’t even read. When I had the mumps, my face felt lumpy and strange. I kept looking in the mirror.

My viewing pleasure for today and tomorrow will be classic monster movies. I am not a fan of slash and bleed. I find Dracula scary enough when they highlight his eyes. One of my favorite black and white movies is Them, about the giant ants. What is strange is when the name Them first appears on the screen, it is red and squiggly. There is no color in the rest of the movie.

I remember when the The Exorcist was released. A bunch of us went to Boston to see it. The line snaked around the corner. It was worth the wait.

I’m back finally. The lights went on last night. The house was down to the 50’s by yesterday afternoon. I snuggled under the down comforter and read under the blankets. My friends invited me to dinner, a hot meal!! When I got home, the lights were on, and the house was warm.

The storm on Tuesday night was horrific, the worst storm I’ve ever see. Branches hit the windows, and a thud from somewhere got the dogs’ attention. The wind never stopped. It got as high as 83 mph. It wasn’t just a freight train. It was several freight trains roaring down the tracks. When I woke up Wednesday morning, I asked Alexa the time, and she didn’t answer. I knew the electricity was off, and it wasn’t an Alexa huff. I checked the stove clock and saw the electricity had gone off at 2:10 am. 

Gwen had to be at the vet’s by nine, and on the ride, I got to see the damage. Limbs were down all over. I saw the two foot remnant of a telephone pole sticking out of the ground. A hanging yellow light was lying twisted on the road. Up the street a large pine tree sits on the hood of a car. Electric trucks from all over were working on restoring power. I even saw a truck from North Carolina.

The only lights working were near me so I got coffee but not until 3 when the crowds died down.

Part of my fence is down as is my mailbox. Except for a few weird pockets of light the cape had no electricity. I was Diogenes walking around with my Coleman lantern looking for an honest man or an electrician. On my deck, my covered furniture, four chairs, a table and an umbrella, were blown halfway across the deck. The yard and deck are covered in wet leaves and small branches. One of my neighbors lost three trees in her back yard. Two other neighbors lost fence sections.

The good news is about Gwen. Though her numbers are still up, she did not lose any weight so the vet said we are getting close to the right insulin dosage. I had to up the dosage starting last night. I was told it was okay to add some of her old food with the diabetic food. I had already been mixing the two so I was glad to hear that. Gwen does eat some it. I told the vet I give her a few treats so I can sneak in her shot. The vet said it was okay. I’m sure Gwen would be relieved to know that. 

Today is cloudy and dark. It is in the 50’s. Rain is predicted for tomorrow. Strangely enough, after all the blustering, everything is still. The leaves at the ends of the branches are barely moving. They stir once and a while in the bit of a breeze. Many of the oak trees have bare branches. Before the storm, the oak tree by the deck had some bright yellow leaves. They are now brown and shriveled.

It is no longer fall and not yet winter. We are in between seasons, in a season of wind and rain.

The storm last night was tremendous with thunder and lightning which seemed to last forever. Henry stayed close. Nala slept through most of the thunder except for a couple of boomers which cracked by the den window. The cats were quiet. I liked the storm.

With the nor’easter coming mostly tonight, we are already under a wind advisory. Gusts could get as high as 70 mph. The rainfall could be around 3 inches or more. Right now it is dark but not yet raining. The air is fairly warm at 64˚. The wind is gusting. Leaves are falling. Already, the oak branches are bare.

Last night I was entertained by watching the Halloween episodes of old shows. I laughed through Cheers and Frasier, especially Frasier. I was never good at guessing who his callers were. I had to read the list in the credits.

I’m going out today to do a bit of grocery shopping. I need milk and bananas for my cereal. I also need a bit of chocolate. I’m thinking a Milky Way.

When I was a kid, I always dunked my Graham crackers in my cocoa. I knew exactly when to pull the cracker out of the cocoa before it sort of dissolved into the cup. It was a remarkable feat.

Saltines were my go to snack cracker. I’d butter them or sometimes I’d use peanut butter instead. I don’t know how I did it, but I used to eat sardines out of the tin on Saltines. The ideas of it now makes me gag a bit. My father loved sardines, and he was the one who introduced me to them.

My father loved to fish for smelt which ran in the winter. He and my uncle who owned a fish market would go out in their small boat together. My father would keep some of the fish and give my uncle the rest to sell. When he got home, my father cleaned the fish, meaning he took off their heads and removed their entrails, and my mother cooked them. First she coated the fish in flour then she fried them in oil. I really liked smelt.

Friday suppers were my favorites. We couldn’t eat meat back then, but I didn’t care. My mother’s Friday night suppers were renowned. I remember the fish sticks and fries. I used to open the oven to sneak a peek and steal a French fry if nobody was looking. Fried dough was one of my favorites. My mother would buy frozen dough, and once it was defrosted, she’d stretch pieces of the dough and cook it in her cast iron frying pan. We all stood by the counter waiting. We used to put butter and salt on the fried dough. I remember the butter sometimes puddled in the little troughs, the uneven spots on the dough. We devoured every piece of that dough.