Keep the Coffee Comimg

The rain started around two yesterday afternoon. It got heavy just when Fed Ex delivered two boxes I had to haul into the house. My shirt got really wet, but the boxes were mostly dry.

The rain just stopped. It was heaviest when it was blowing from the south. When I opened the door to let Henry inside, I was amazed at how warm it is, pleasantly warm with a kind breeze. Thunder storms are predicted for later.

My kitchen floor is a roadmap of wet paw prints. I have to close my eyes when I go into the kitchen or the messy floor would drive me crazy. The day is dark enough to need lights, but they make the rooms feel cozy and me contented. The dogs were roughhousing up and down the hall and onto the couch. They do play growls as they try to eat each other’s heads. Henry wins all the time. His jaw is bigger. Nala jumps on Henry for the win. I yell at them and tell them to go outside. Mostly they don’t.

When I was a kid, I loved rainy afternoons. I’d be wet, even soaked, after walking home from school in the rain. My mother would hang up my school clothes to dry. I’d put my shoes near the radiator and change into my pajamas. I had the comfiest pajamas. They had cuffs around the wrists and ankles keeping out the cold. The material was jersey. I’d get cozy in bed, turn on the light over my headboard and read. I was never without a book. I went to the library all the time, and I often spent my 50¢ allowance on books the library didn’t have, my girl detective books. I’d go downstairs for dinner and probably watch TV before bed. I don’t remember the programs I watched. I do remember many of them were westerns. I am not a fan of westerns.

My favorite rain is summer rain. When I was a kid, we stayed outside in the summer rain. I remember splashing the stream running below the curb. I remember my hair dripping and I remember me laughing. I don’t get wet on purpose anymore, but I do sometimes sit outside in the rain under my deck umbrella. I love being surrounded by rain but not getting wet. I leave some windows open so I can hear the rain.

My being posted to Ghana was serendipitous. The big reasons are many, but there are smaller reasons which, when mounted high, become big reasons, things to be appreciated. Rain was the biggest of these. During the rainy season it rained almost every day. The rain pounded the ground as if making up for the lost time in the dry season. Sometimes the rain was slanted. It was also at times heavy, times when shelter was best. Other times, the rain was a slight inconvenience, and I shopped in the market anyway.

Where I lived was mostly savannah grassland. In the dry season everything was brown, all the roads were dusty and the fields were empty. But once the rain started, the whole world woke up. Farms were planted mostly with millet. I watched the tiny plants grow to tall grasses with the millet on top. Roads stopped blowing dust everywhere. The market seemed cleaner from the rain. If the rain was heavy, I sometimes went shopping anyway. I got great buys from the aunties selling very little because of the rain. It never took long for me to dry. I even think my dress steamed when the hot sun hit it. Okay, maybe not.

Pardon my verbiage today!

Today is cloudy and a bit hot at 78˚, the high for the day. Tomorrow it will be rainy so I guess today is a sort of dress rehearsal with humidity and clouds, but no rain. I did the dump run yesterday. The dump was so crowded I had to ride around twice to get a spot at the recycle bins. My trunk was filled with heavy, spent litter bags. They had to be dragged then hefted and thrown over the sides of the green, metal bin. Sometimes, almost involuntarily, I grunted at the weight of the bags as I threw them. It wasn’t pretty.

Today will be less exciting than yesterday. I have uke practice tonight for an hour. That’s it, my only commitment to the day, my only reason to have to get dressed. Today would have been a perfect sloth day, a day dedicated to wearing cozies, to doing no work and to lazing the day away.

I remember weather days like this when I was a kid, totally cloudy days. The playground was open at nine but not in the rain so because we spent day at the playground doing crafts, playing games like checkers and softball, our mantra, actually our nursery rhyme, for the day was rain, rain, go away, which now, in hindsight, sort of makes no sense. It wasn’t raining, but anyway, on a cloudy day we hoped for just clouds, a reprieve from the sun.

Whenever we went to the beach, my face got sunburned over the tan. I had to wear a tee shirt so my back and shoulders wouldn’t get burnt. My mother always packed tee shirts, and by afternoon, we were all wearing tee shirts. My mother had reached the sun limit. I didn’t mind.

I went out on the deck to retrieve something Nala had stolen from the kitchen. It was a paper towel which Nala didn’t seem to like. It was left mostly intact. I looked over the bannister and saw a paper plate which must have been with paper towel. It had been flattened. I remembered I had pizza on that plate and had left it on the counter in case I wanted another piece of pizza. I don’t remember it going missing. I must have moved on to something else.

Last night the two dogs were driving me crazy. They were chasing each other around the house from room to room, and they’d stop on the couch to eat each other’s faces low growling all the time, all in fun. I kept throwing them off the couch, and they kept coming back. Finally, I used the magic word, dinner. They both stopped, looked attentive and ran to the kitchen. All of a sudden, I had a memory flash. I remembered our magic word was supper, and we pretty much had the same reaction to our word. That’s sort of interesting in an odd sort of way.

The morning is warmer than it has been. It is already 76˚, but not so far from the predicted high of 77˚. It is cloudy and will be cloudy on and off all day. The slight breeze is cooling on my back. The dogs are playing with new toys and each other. Usually they are napping by now. My plans for the day include a dump run later in the afternoon. My car is filled with trash bags, many of them filled with cat litter. Tonight is Magic Music Monday with the uke club. The theme is Get Together.

Yesterday my cousin Mitch and his wife Kelly came to visit Nala. They gave her to me to love when they knew that Nala would continue to attack their older and bigger boxer, Kyrie. They feared for Nala. Kelly brought toys and treats for both dogs. Nala was excited to see them. Henry was amazing. After his initial hesitancy, he let both of them pat him and scratch his back. Henry has come a long way. They thought Nala had grown and looked wonderful.

When I was a kid, I seldom wore a watch. It is the same now. I have watches, all needing batteries, in my bureau drawer. I only wear one when I’m traveling. My favorite is the one my mother gave me on my 50th birthday. It has a red leather strap and the watch is silver. I have another, the traditional gold watch though mine is green befitting the school colors, from the school district when I retired. The others were bought along the way.

I don’t need a watch. I make sure I’m where I need to be on time, actually a bit early. I hate to be late. I had a friend who was always late, even to my house for dinner. I used to give her an earlier time, a lie, as to when she was expected to be here. She was still late. I started serving dinner without her. She was put out. I had no sympathy.

When I was a kid, I wore socks all winter. Some had holes. I didn’t care, but my mother did so I made sure I wore socks with holes you couldn’t see. The older socks had no elastic left, and they bunched at my ankles which reminded me of my grandmother. Her hose was always bunched around her slippers. Sometimes my socks slid into my shoes. That was like walking on rocks. I’d stop and pull up my socks a few times on the way to school. I still have socks with holes. Sometimes I don’t even hide the holes. I don’t care if anyone sees them. I am becoming or maybe have become an eccentric old lady.

Today is another wonderfully beautiful summer day. The morning air is clear. The sun is a bit diffused. There are clouds, but they are just part of the background of the day. The temperature will be in the high 70’s. The low will be a lovely 68˚. A strong breeze ruffles the leaves and bends the top branches of the pines. Today is a day to be enjoyed.

Today begins August. It wasn’t my favorite month but it was. I guess that’s a contradiction of sorts needing explaining. Well, August meant closer to back to school, the end of my summer, but August also meant my birthday, the best day ever. It all makes sense.

When I was a kid, I wasn’t ever thrilled with Sundays. I had to go to mass and stay around for dinner. On some Sunday afternoons we went to visit my grandparents in East Boston. I was always bored unless I explored. The thousands of cousins, who were also dragged to my grandparents, were more my sisters’ ages. I was the oldest grandchild. I lived in a smallish town so I was in awe of the city and found it intriguing. Corner stores were everywhere. People sold slush out of their windows. Bakeries had pizza, square pizza which I still love. I remember the truck with the merry go round stopping on the streets so kids could buy rides. The horses were small. There were four or five of them spinning in a tight circle. I was too old to ride, but I was okay with no horseback riding. I had the city to explore.

When I started traveling, I loved roaming the cities. I had favorites. London topped the list, but we are, of course, excluding Accra, my favorite of all. I have been to London more times than I can remember. Sometimes I stayed in a B&B, mostly when I was young. Later I’d stay in hotels, nice but inexpensive hotels. We stayed at the President a few times. It was in Russell Square around the corner from the subway, the tube. I remember breakfast included the traditional tomato and sort of rubbery bacon. I used to call room service for coke and ice. The oldest delivery lady always came to my room hauling the tray. She wore a full apron with a bib. I always gave her a big tip. I felt bad.

In South America, Quito, old Quito, is my favorite city. We stayed in a hotel around the corner from the plaza. Women wearing shawls and hats toted bundles of stuff, usually covered bundles to make them easier to carry but difficult to identify. I roamed the narrow streets. I stopped to visit churches and museums. I shopped in a couple of stores. I sat on the plaza steps for a while to watch the world go by me. I ate on the run. Quito was my hub for exploring. I went in a bus to the equator. There was a shack of sorts and a line on the ground separating the two hemispheres. I stood straddling the line so I was in both hemispheres. The shack sold souvenirs and post cards. I bought a few post cards, wrote them out and paid to have them sent from the equator so the postmark was 00°00’00. That was really neat. Another day I went to a market a distance from the city. It was unbelievable. The market had everything from animals to prepared foods, clothes, cloth, household goods and so much more. I bought a few things, easy to carry things. One was a small basket and the other a hat, a beautiful red sort of cowboy hat I still have which is old enough now to be an antique. Inside the hat it says Industria Equatoriana and La Paloma de Tubac. I wore that hat rather than pack and probably squash it. I must have been an interesting sight to behold.

Today is another delight. The sun is bright. There is no humidity and a slight breeze keeps the day cool. It is only 69˚ right now and won’t get any higher than 74˚. The low for the tonight will be 59˚. I will definitely have to find a blanket. Last night was chilly. I think the dogs huddled against me hoping to keep themselves warm. They woke up early so, consequently, did I. Now, keep in mind, early is a relative term. For me it was 9:45, but it was 3:30 when I went to bed. I just wasn’t tired until then.

I did a bit of cleaning yesterday. All of downstairs got vacuumed, and the den got polished and cleaned. Today I will wash the kitchen and hall floors. The kitchen is tile while the floor is wood. From the den to the back door is always the route the dogs take and is always where I find muddy paw prints and lot of balls of fur.

The dogs are having their morning naps. I almost want to keep jostling them awake in a weird sort of quid pro quo, but I’ll take the high road. I may also take a nap today, my Saturday nap just to distinguish it from my other naps, but it has been a while since I’ve napped.

When I was a kid, I would loved today’s weather. It calls for a long bike ride. I would have packed a lunch, and my mother, knowing I’d be gone most of the day, would usually would give me a nickel for a drink or a candy bar. I opted for the candy bar. Choking down my lunch was worth it. Besides, I knew where every bubbler in town was. My lunch was always bologna, from the roll you had to cut into slices, on white bread which is all my mother ever bought. I added cookies, usually Oreos which I could find in the full larder as my mother grocery shopped on Fridays. I’d throw my brown bag lunch into the bike basket and take off for most of the day. Most times I was by myself. I never minded but rather liked it as I could take a break when I wanted and could bike any route in town.

Now, what did I buy with my nickel? A corner store not so far away from where I lived always had Milky Way and Three Musketeers bars in the freezer section. I usually bought the Milky Way. I remember it broke off in chunks when I bit it. The chunks took a while to chew. That was the best part of a frozen Milky Way: how long it took to eat. I would’ve paid even a dime for such a delicacy, for such a treasure.

I have no excuse for the lateness of Coffee today. It was close to afternoon when I woke up. I took my time reading the Globe and savoring my two cups of coffee. I totally finished the crossword puzzle. I ate a really tasty banana and shared it with the dogs. I think banana is their favorite fruit. I still have the Cape Times to read.

Today is amazing. It is 79˚, today’s high. The low will be 58˚. I’m going to have to find a blanket just in case, but two dogs do keep me warm. An every now and then slight breeze cools the air. I don’t hear a sound. It is such a quiet day. I have the light on here in the den. It is dark for paper reading. The sun won’t appear until afternoon. The den windows face the north and west.

I chose home today. The dust is back, and the kitchen floor is disgustingly filled with paw prints. I held off washing it as rain was predicted yesterday. It did rain but while we were in bed and everything was dry when we woke up. I deem today tackle the downstairs day. I can take dust for only so long.

I picked up a few groceries yesterday. I bought a half papaya, the biggest one I’ve ever seen. I bought bananas, Klondike bars, bread, two dog biscuits and a blueberry turnover. I ate the turnover first. It was so good I was sorry I hadn’t bought the other, an apple turnover. I’ll know better next time.

When I was a kid, I don’t remember my mother cleaning the house. I remember her doing dishes and taking down and folding laundry off the lines in the back. She did all the rest while we were in school. I used to watch her make dinner. I’d be doing my homework at the kitchen table. She stood in front of the counter by the sink. It was the longest of short counters in our small kitchen. I remember the chopping sounds and the water running into metal pans. Sometimes we talked but mostly she cooked and I studied. My mother washed the dishes after dinner. She never made us do them. I did the clearing and the dish washing much later when I was an adult. She got to sit at the kitchen table and chat with me.

Today’s late start is because of an early dentist appointment. I chose the cinnamon over the mint for the polishing. My teeth are now clean and bright. Wear sunglasses if you see me.

I have to go back out again today. This is 4 days in a row out of the house, but I’m thinking I should count today as two trips. I have to get dressed again. I even have a possibility for tomorrow which would be a new record for me: 5 days in a row leaving the house. I’m exhausted. Interacting with people is tiring. I hate it when I’m asked, What’s new?” I’m tempted to make up an answer. Bungee jumping? Hand gliding? Demolition derby? (Okay, I suspect this last one might be a bit beyond the pale. Just go with it). But truth will out I suppose. I haven’t been doing much. Notice the much, an indefinite tally.

Today is beautiful. The breeze is curtain blowing strong. The leaves on the pines and the oaks are all swaying. The air is dry. It is 77˚, the high for the day. It will get cloudy later, and rain is predicted for tomorrow, thunder and rain, but I’m skeptical. I’ll believe the weatherman when I get wet.

When I was little, I played with dolls. My favorite was a Ginny Doll. She was small. She had great hair and a superb wardrobe. Her furniture was pink. I had a few pieces of it: her bed, her armoire and a chair. Ginny had matching boots with a raincoat, a summer straw hat, summer dresses and traditional outfits of different countries. My Ginny had clothes from Holland. She also had pajamas so I used to tuck her into bed. She never wanted a story.

I have a couple of dolls from my childhood. One is the aforementioned Ginny Doll, but sadly, her accessories didn’t survive the years, and she does need an appointment at a hairdresser’s, but other than those, Ginny is healthy and probably happy. She is standing on the top of the book case and dressed for an outside jaunt. My other doll didn’t come with a name. She is made of cloth, had long blond hair in braids, red overalls and a white shirt. The overalls have a patch which came with the overalls. She is sitting in the small white chair my father’s uncle made for me when I was three. She is almost a perfect fit except her feet don’t touch the floor. I don’t think mine did either.

Today is already hot. It is 85˚, the high for the day. Tonight will go down to the upper 60’s. The sun is out, mostly. The slight breeze is more for effect. It does little to cool the air. Nala is still panting after her lope around the yard. I think Henry is upstairs having his morning nap. It’s a quiet day.

If I am out of the house at least three days in a week, it is a busy week. Last week was busy, and this week too will be busy. I have my usual stops at the dump to get rid of the trash and at Agway for animal food, but there’s so much more. Tonight I’ll be in Hyannis to play my uke in a group concert. I like to sit in the back to be anonymous. I am only a fair to middling musician. I even think calling me a musician is pushing it a bit. Tomorrow is practice and Wednesday is a lesson. Without my uke, I’d be a hermit, not that I’d mind.

My memory drawers seem to be nailed shut. I start an entry and then delete it. My inspiration, my muse, has left me for a cooler place. She is far smarter than I, but I have an easy solution: write down whatever comes into my head.

My favorite cereal was Rice Krispies. I like the taste, and I like the sound it makes in my bowl. Last week I had Cocoa Krispies for the first time. They have nudged regular Krispies to second place.

I hate panty hose. They were always difficult to get into, being small enough to fit into that egg. What’s worse is sometimes, when I put my hand inside the leg to stretch the hose, I snag a fingernail on the mesh. I was starting out my day with a hosiery flaw.

Last week I bought the small variety boxes of Kellogg’s cereal. They were my lunch and dinner until I ran out of them and milk. I went to the grocery store with only two items on my list. I left the grocery store with three bags full.

I’m watching Alien Siege. I don’t recognize a single face. This movie deserves recognition for the worst acting in a science fiction B-movie though I would rate this lower in the alphabet than a B.

I only like apples when they are cold. I love oranges regardless, the same with pineapples. Mangoes are their juiciest when they are warm, not in the fridge.

I think white or brown rice needs help to taste good. Take umbrage if you must, but they taste bland to me. Jollof rice I could eat every night. Fried rice is good for a couple of nights. Rice Pilaf is another favorite of mine. No brown rice dishes are on my list.

I am a carnivore. Mostly I eat chicken, but I would never turn down a grilled rib-eye. Nor would I ever turn down mashed potatoes. Throw in some baby peas, and I’d be in heaven.

From my travels, but mostly from living in Ghana, I have learned to eat best is to eat local food. I know to be careful of the water. My house had good water. Learn greetings and thanks in local tribal languages to say hello to people. Greetings are the easiest, but how are you also works. Just remember to answer I am fine in whatever language. Watch the peoples’ faces when you know even a little of their language. It makes you want to learn more. Travel locally. I’ve met some interesting people on busses. Take an all night bus to save money and sleep when you can. Embrace everything. Remember everything you can see, smell and taste. Live your highest life.

The AC is on. The house got really hot, 79˚. I was starting to pant.

Today is cloudy and windy. The sky keeps getting darker, and the air feels damp and sticky so maybe we will get that rain though past predictions of rain have proved otherwise. Rain seems to bypass the cape in a wide swath of dry weather. We need the rain.

I have every intention of staying home today. I could do a few chores, but the top chores are the ones I put off the longest: the laundry and the dump. I’ll vacuum and maybe dust a bit just to stave off my conscience, this being day three of sloth-dom though I’m counting brushing my teeth as a task accomplished.

When I was a kid, I brushed my teeth at night, but I never did very well. The dentist always gave me a red liquid to swish in my mouth. After I split it out, the red color stayed on teeth poorly brushed. The brighter the color, the worse the tooth. I had a very bright mouth.

The renters next door sit on the deck at night. I can hear their chatter through my opened window. They are not very loud, but sounds at night other than critters is unusual after such a long time of no renters. Henry doesn’t mind them. He only barks at doors.

Nala is quite proficient at stealing food off the counter even when I hide the food, though obviously it seems not so very well hidden or she is quite good at finding the hidden despite her snub nose. Yesterday she stole a bag of dog treats destined for upstairs. When I feed and care for the cats, I give the dogs small treats. Now I have to figure out what to give them. I am leaning toward a few pieces of cheese. I hope they like provolone.

Only a block away from my elementary school, from St. Pat’s, was Santoro’s Sub Shop. It was small. Half of one side, in the refrigerated display case, was the meat and cheese. The giant menu hung on the wall. There were counters. On one counter they took your order and then wrapped the sub in white paper on a small counter. Another counter took up the whole other other long wall. There were stools there. We didn’t often stay. Getting a sub was a treat usually reserved for Friday’s after payday. Because it was a Friday, my choices were limited. I usually went with the small tuna adding only pickles and hot peppers. On a warmish day, we’d eat outside loving being away from school for only a little while.

Santoro’s is gone now. I loved the way it smelled of onions, tomato sauce and oregano. The front window was frosted in the winter. A lot of us skipped out of school for lunch. It was just about the only rebellion we dared, but it was a start. We were still young.