Archive for the ‘Musings’ category

“Mad dogs and Englishmen Go out in the midday sun…”

February 11, 2021

Flurries fell last night. The walk and some steps are again hidden under snow, light snow. Given his slide on the stairs yesterday, Henry was dubious about going out, but he checked, saw the stairs were down to wood from the deicer I threw out earlier and decided to give it a try. He gingerly walked down into the yard but ran back up the stairs to get out of the cold.

The cold is hanging around, but there is no wind. Everything is still. I am venturing out into the big world and doing a couple of errands. No, the dump is not one of them. It is too cold.

When I was a kid, weather never mattered. We had to walk to and from school anyway. We had only one car, and my father drove it to work every day. Besides, my mother didn’t learn to drive until we moved to the Cape. I remember the winter walks to school especially on windy days. I froze to my bones.

Shoes have never really had much importance to me. When I was a kid, I had my school shoes and my play shoes. When I worked, I had clogs, comfortable shoes, because of all the walking I did in the halls and cafeteria. Since my retirement, I have winnowed my pairs of shoes. Now I have sandals for summer and a pair of tie shoes for winter though I often stay in my slippers, my clog slippers, when I go out.

I have signed up for breakfast with a sloth. The Stone Zoo, my hometown zoo, offers breakfasts with a variety of animals in Zoom sessions. My sister too has signed up for the sloth. We’ll get to see each other.

My friend Bill keeps track of the weather in Bolga, and I check every few days. Today it is 102˚. This is still the harmattan so the days are dry and hot, but the nights are chilly in comparison. It will get down to 70˚ tonight. This was my favorite time of year. I loved feeling cold and snuggling under my wool blanket.

I’ve been watching Terra Nova, a single season SciFi series from 2011. The plot is easy: people from a polluted Earth are transported to Earth during the age of dinosaurs. They fight the dinosaurs and other people but that’s a longer story. Anyway, I’m mentioning this because I noticed a Bolga basket on the table in one of the houses. Any time, any place is perfect for a Bolga basket.

“For a scavenger, patience is the key to the pantry.”

February 9, 2021

Today is an ugly day. The sun is elsewhere, the sky is gray, and it is quite cold. I trekked over frozen snow this morning to get my papers and yesterday’s mail. My car is still snowed in as Skip, my factotum, hasn’t come yet, something about his plow. That doesn’t matter so much as I probably wouldn’t go out anyway though I do need to go to the post office.

I checked in on CNN and MSNBC this morning. The former president’s lawyers’ brief was under discussion. It seems that United as in United States is misspelled, and President Biden is referred to as former Vice President Biden. It goes on and on.

When I was a kid, a lot of snow meant a no school day which is kind of funny because we were outside in the snow as soon as we finished breakfast. We sledded, had snowball fights and built snow forts. It took my sisters a while longer to get ready for the cold and the snow as my mother helped dress them. Think of Randy from A Christmas Story, in snowsuits, hats, boots and mittens. I remember my mother reaching up into their jacket sleeves to pull their cuffs down. They didn’t know to hold them. That comes with getting older.

Henry has been out a few times. The de-icer worked on the deck steps. I can see wood in some spots. Last night poor Henry was too afraid to go up or down those steps. His back legs had slipped a couple of times. I would have walked beside him if he hadn’t decided to give the steps a go. This morning he raced up and down.

I like celery in salads like chicken because of the crunch, but that’s it. I find celery a waste of time and energy with all the chewing with little return. I do eat ants on a raft which is celery slathered with peanut butter in the trough with raisins on top. I figure the peanut butter raises celery to a new level, one with taste. I found out it is also called ladybugs on a raft. That’s new to me.

Every day I eat. What I eat is what I scavenge. My fridge and larder are filled, but I’d have to cook, and I am far too much a sloth to bother. Cheese and crackers are big as is hummus. I’m trying a new one: pineapple turmeric. I’ve loved hummus since the first time I tasted it in Accra at Talal’s, a hot spot for volunteers. It was served spread on a plate with what I think was peanut or sesame oil in the middle and a ring of cayenne around the top of the hummus. The pita bread was so soft and fresh and bigger than most. My favorite hummus currently is made by a company called Hope. I love their original and have become addicted to their spicy carrot hummus.

It has started snowing. The forecast is for snow and rain. Please, please Mother Nature or Father Winter bring on the rain.

“Nature is full of genius, full of divinity; so that not a snowflake escapes its fashioning hand.”

February 8, 2021

We got snow, probably 6 or more inches. After that it rained a bit so the snow has hardened. Everywhere I walked I could hear the snow crack under my feet. My papers were out near the street, but it was easy to get them. There wasn’t much snow on the walkway from the house. Poor Henry didn’t want to come up the outside stairs which were covered in snow. I threw ice melt on them last night and again this morning so the stairs will be clear soon enough.

The sun is really bright glinting off the snow, but it is only 24˚ according to Hey, Google, but he also said the wind makes it much colder. There is no wind.

Despite the cold, today is a pretty day with lots of sun and a blue sky. The trees are quiet. The birds are in and out of my feeders which now need to be filled. I will brave the snow on the deck and fill the feeders later.

I talk to the TV now more than ever. On a video I was watching a guy who was working on a van and kept calling the ceiling the roof. For whatever reason that drove me crazy. It is the same when I see kids on TV shopping in stores without their masks. What are you thinking I usually ask the parents. They never answer. That’s a good thing.

My sister sent me a link to Zoo New England. For $20.00 you get to have breakfast with one of the animals. It is on Zoom and there is a zoo person to explain the what’s and to answer questions. The participants were told to wear pajamas. It is breakfast after all. My sister was the only adult. She wore her chenille robe. I will sign up to watch the sloths.

I went out with my broom to try and get the snow off the car roof and windows. I used the handle, but it broke. That is how hard the snow is. I did manage to clear the rear window and half the roof. I’ll try again later. This time I’ll use mop.

I read an article about going quarantine crazy. The symptoms vary, but I swear I have them all. I miss people. My bubble has always been deflated. I pity the dog and the cats who are stuck with me. I talk to them all the time. I asked Henry last night how his dinner was. He licked his chops. I’m not saying anything. I know it was coincidental or was it?

“This recipe is certainly silly. It says to separate the eggs, but it doesn’t say how far to separate them.”

February 7, 2021

A storm is coming. It could be snow or rain or a combination, but it has started out as rain. The sky is a light grey but darkening. The wind is picking up. The trunks and tops of the pine trees are swaying. It is an ugly day all told.

This is sloth time. I haven’t anywhere I need to go. I have nothing I need to do. I’m staying in my flannel pants and sweatshirt, but I’m thinking that’s no different than most of my days. I’ll get off the couch for meals and the bathroom.

Henry naps during the day upstairs on my bed. Gwen still hides in the guest room, now Gwen’s room. Jack is upstairs sleeping near the heat. Given how big he is and how much fur he has, I would have thought he’d be naturally insulated.

I don’t like pancakes even with butter and syrup. Something about their consistency makes me gag. It is the same with waffles though I do love a waffle ice cream cone. My favorite breakfast is eggs over-easy, crispy bacon and dark rye toast, but I won’t turn my nose up at French toast. Once in a while I do love eggs Benedict or eggs Bennie, the more familiar title.

I am a pizza fan, but I don’t do Hawaiian pizza. It’s the pineapple. My favorite is one with caramelized onions and any sort of meat. I lean toward sausage or hamburger. I sometimes make pizza at home. All the ingredients are usually in my larder, and I do caramelize the onions.

My favorite ice cream changes. For a while it was mint chip. Coffee chip is my current favorite, and I have some in the freezer. When I eat my ice cream, it swims in coffee syrup, a treat from when I was a kid. My mother used to buy coffee syrup when I was a kid. It came from Rhode Island. We put it into milk. In some store, I don’t remember which, I saw coffee syrup and bought it. I have been putting a stream of it on my coffee chip ice cream.

The snow has just started, big fluffy, wet flakes I can hear hitting the roof. Hey Google says 2.2 inches on Cape Cod. When Google speaks, Henry always looks up.

“Dogs are loyal friends, and if they could talk, your secrets would still be safe. (If my cat could talk, I’d have to let the dog eat her.)”

February 6, 2021

Today is a lovely day, sunny but cold. The wind is strong. My dance card is still empty. It has been empty for so long it is yellowing. I haven’t been out for a couple of weeks. I’m amassing errands for my next venturing. So far I’m up to three. The dump isn’t one of them!

When I first woke up, I had to think what day it was. I could have asked Alexa, but I figured I’d give it a go. At first I toyed with it being Friday but then I remembered. It is Saturday.

I don’t know why I watch the news. I did try a Hallmark movie this morning, but it had the same plot as so many Hallmark movies. Girl and boy meet but don’t get along. They snipe at each other but the Hallmark sort of sniping which is gentle. They start to like each other. They kiss, the end of all Hallmark movies.

Henry barked at the door so I opened it for him. A garden flag by the front steps was blowing. Henry got so scared he ran to the kitchen. I sat on the stairs and tried to coax him to the door. He came close to my hand but not the door. I left the inside door open. He went back later.

I haven’t been to my hometown in a very long time. I talk to my sister often but haven’t seen her in forever. She is as careful as I am to keep herself safe.

When I was kid, we had a boxer named Duke. He was the smartest dog. He’d follow us to school sometimes and we’d tell him to sit. He’d sit, but every time we’d turn around, the distance between us wasn’t any greater. We never caught him.

My brother used to go camping in woods not so far away from our house. He always took Duke, but he had to tie Duke to a tree because Duke would run home if he could. One time, bigger, older kids threatened my brother at his camp. Duke started growling. A boxer growling is scary though they are the sweetest dogs in the world. The marauders didn’t know that. My brother said unless they left he would let the dog loose. They left.

“Someone may offer you a freshly caught whole large fish, like a salmon or striped bass. Don’t panic – take it!”

February 5, 2021

Alexa predicted liquid sunshine today then explained it was rain. Thanks! I was perplexed, but she was right. When last I let Henry in, it was sprinkling. The rain has dampened my day, literally. I was going to brave the wide world today, but I might just stay inside and kept dry and warm.

When I was a kid, I wasn’t a lover of the rain. A storm always meant getting wet walking to school, but the worst was no recess.

I loved Campbell’s chicken noodle soup. I used to crumble Saltines with my hands and put them into the bowl. Saltines swell in water. The crumbs absorb all the soup. I always had a thick layer to eat through to get to the chicken and the noodles.

Fried dough was often a Friday supper. My mother would fry up the dough in her cast iron frying pan. We’d sit in the kitchen waiting, watching. My poor mother couldn’t cook fast enough. We’d slather the dough with butter which almost floated on the top of the dough. We all ate carefully but quickly.

My life is pretty boring right now. I don’t go out much so no new adventures. I don’t see friends as they are also staying home. Poor Henry escapes up stairs when I chat with him too long. Jack just falls asleep, so much for my patter, my rhetoric.

I don’t like swordfish or salmon. The pink of the salmon just doesn’t seem right somehow. I remember a British Air first class flight to Germany. We had been upgraded. They served salmon for lunch.

When I traveled to Europe, I always started or finished my trip in London. One trip we decide to take the ferry from Calais to Dover. We got to the ferry station and was surprised no one was there. We sat for a bit then asked. We were in the wrong place. We had to run with our bags across a huge, massive (my memory may be a bit off here. I might be thinking it was huge because of the running) parking lot. We just made it. They took up the ramp after we were aboard. When we arrived in Dover, we got on the train to London. We were only there a few days but we managed plays and shopping and eating well.

I haven’t ordered delivery in a couple of weeks. I am craving Chinese food.

“To look at the paper is to raise a seashell to one’s ear and to be overwhelmed by the roar of humanity.”

February 4, 2021

Today’s weather is the same as yesterday’s. I think I might be caught in a time loop. I wouldn’t mind but I’d prefer to choose the time to loop. This morning started early for me, an unusual event. What was worse was I changed the cat litter, made my bed and took a shower, all before 10. That is far more industrious than I have been in days. I’m not a fan.

Speaking of weather, it was a little foggy this morning. The wind is blowing now and it is chilly. I saw a couple of snow flurries earlier, but only a few. It even looks as if we might have sun. It seems t6o be peeking through, and I think I see a bit of blue.

I have to go out today, the first time in a couple of weeks. My errand list is short.

When I was a kid, I got fifty cents allowance. I thought it was big money. Usually I spent it right away. Sometimes I bought a book which left me with a penny, useful back then. Sometimes I bought a couple of five cent candy bars and put the rest away to spend another day. I still have many of those books. My mother saved them and gave them to me when I bought my house. The pages in many of the books are yellow and brittle. I figure they should be after over sixty years.

I was in Ghana for 27 months. I didn’t have a radio. Nobody had a TV. Ghana has several daily papers, but the news is local. I loved reading those papers. They were a snapshot of Ghana, but everything in those papers was so graphic to me, but not so to the Ghanaians. I remember a front page picture of a dead man, a thief killed by his victim. I also remember my friends the Popps who were actually in a printed ad in one paper. There they were, two white people, clicking glasses while seated at a small table. It was an ad for whiskey.

Most of the time I didn’t know what was happening at home, but that didn’t bother me. I had a lack of curiosity about events so far away. Life at home went on without me, and I didn’t mind. I was living an amazing life.

“A big storm wouldn’t be a big storm without some palm trees blowing around.”

February 2, 2021

Yesterday and last night it poured. Even now it is still raining. The temperature is 41˚, winter warm. I have no reason to leave the house so I’ll hang around, do a bit of dusting, water plants and eat the leftovers.

Henry goes out in the rain. He is not enthusiastic, but he does go with little prompting. My boxers hated the rain. They’d get to the door, poke their heads out then back into the kitchen. They would go out only when they couldn’t wait. Once during a snow storm, Gracie waited 16 hours to go out.

Even when I was a kid, I loved the rain. In the summer, I’d run around outside on a rainy day to get soaked. I always kept playing. Rain never interrupted summer fun.

In Ghana, during the rainy season, it rains every day. The days are cooler than during the dry season though cool only in comparison. I love the rainy season. When I’ve gone back to Ghana, it has been during the rainy season when the dust has disappeared, and the millet is green and tall. The rain never stopped me from going to town, especially on market day, every third day. I’d buy my tomatoes and eggs and hope for a surprise like when I found the watermelon. Sometimes, when the rain was heavy, I’d find shelter. One time I stood outside under the awning of a small shop. The owner saw me, invited me into her shop and brought me a chair. That is so Ghanaian. Other times the rain was soft and easily ignored. I just went about my errands knowing the sun would be back to dry my clothes.

My memory drawers sometimes send me a single image prompted by something I’ve seen or written. Talking about the rain flashed an image of me sitting on school steps under an overhang during a soft rain. I remember it was in Winneba where we stayed for the first two weeks of training. I was alone sitting on the steps. The rain had chased the other trainees to dry places. I sat, watched the rain and marveled. I think my mouth was opened in awe. I remember thinking I’m in Africa during my first rainstorm. I am actually in Africa.

“I disliked numbers, and they didn’t think much of me either.”

February 1, 2021

When I woke up, the first thing I did was to look out the window to see how much snow we had gotten. None. The snow started around ten. It was a nor’easter blowing sideways and falling steadily, but it was a wet snow which has since turned into rain. I just hope it doesn’t freeze.

The wind will get tremendous with gusts up to 60 MPH. Right now it is calm. Only a few hanging brown leaves are fluttering.

I was going to take a Coffee break today. Staying inside makes for poor conversation. Jack and Henry have slept the morning away. I envy them. I wander from the den to the kitchen to the living room and sleeve dust as I go. Nothing holds my interest. Today I’m thinking I’ll clean out the fridge. Obviously I’ve gone over the edge. I’ve gone stir crazy.

Yesterday I made Sunday dinner for myself. I seasoned and baked the spatchcock chicken and added sweet potatoes to the oven with the chicken. I steamed pea pods. Dinner was delicious. It will be delicious again tonight and maybe even tomorrow night. What’s left will become chicken salad. Dinner becomes lunch.

When I was a kid and always after that, math was difficult for me. Arithmetic was easy just a bit of add, subtract, multiply and divide. I used to hide my fingers under my desk so I could use them. Once I started algebra I had nightmares of murderous polynomials chasing me. X was a scary unknown. Now, I’m back to arithmetic. I mostly add and subtract and don’t need my fingers any more. I haven’t ever used algebra.

“Time flows in a strange way on Sundays.”

January 31, 2021

Yesterday is today. Trust me here. I am not being metaphysical. I’m just talking about the weather. It is cold and cloudy, and I saw a couple of snow flurries earlier, loners I hope.

Winter is entrenched. Any 40˚ day feels tropical. Where did I put the sun screen just in case?

The last time I did any errands was over a week ago. Everything I need gets pretty much delivered now. Henry loves it. He barks and scares people. I don’t love it so much.

According to my electric company, I use more wattage than my neighbors. At first I cared, but after careful consideration, I stopped caring. Besides the den, the only other lights on at night are one in the living room and one over the sink in the kitchen. Here in the den it is a lamp, the TV and my computer. That doesn’t seem excessive. I figure I over-watt, to coin a word, because I am up until the wee hours burning electricity while the houses around me are dark and filled with sleeping people.

When I was in Ghana, Sunday meant a service at the school with hymns and a sermon. It was held in the dining hall from which the tables had been removed. When I first met the principal, she wanted to know if I had brought my bible with me. I told her I hadn’t, but I had parts of it memorized. One Sunday I was the sermon giver instead of the white father, the imam or the pastor of a local church. I still wonder why I said yes. Well, I planned my sermon and went with the unexpected. I spoke of fables. I spoke of the ant, a fire ant in this case to keep it local, and the grasshopper, my father’s favorite tale, and the tortoise and the hare. I wove amazing links between the fables and God. Heads turned. Mouths opened in awe. I swear I heard the choir of heavenly angels. The principal was so taken with my sermon she never asked me again. My guess was she thought I couldn’t top my last sermon. Little did she know there was always Henny Penny. I was ready just in case.