Keep the Coffee Comimg

The rain started lightly yesterday afternoon but last night I could hear it on the roof. It is still raining, and when the house is quiet, I can still hear it hitting the roof. The tree next to my house was filled with yellow leaves yesterday morning. Today, after rain and a bit of wind, the tree is almost bare. Yesterday Skip, my factotum, and his helper Bobby came by to shut the deck for the winter (painful to write). They cleared the leaves first, but the deck is covered again. When I look out the window, I can see a shower of leaves falling every time the wind blows.

Skip and Bobby also put up my outside Christmas lights on the front fence, and they decorated a front bush with giant ornaments. The bush is lit by a floodlight. Last night half of the front lights lit, the half connected to the always lit star light. I went out to turn on the other side. Tonight I’ll be patient and see if the lights come on with the timer.

When I was a kid, everything about Christmas made me giddy. My father and mother always chose the tree. My mother was into full branches, no bare spots. I remember my father setting up the tree ahead of the decorating so its branches would fall. The house smelled best at the holidays, at Thanksgiving and at Christmas.

Alexa made me proverbially gag this morning. She wished me a rainy day filled with rainbows. If she had started to sing The Rainbow Connection, I’d have lost it.

Despite the morning Alexa greeting, my favorite day is a rainy day, a not so dark rainy day but a rainy day which needs a bit of lamp light. My house always feels especially cozy on days like today. In the living room, only the corner light is lit. Over the sink in the kitchen, it’s the ceiling light. Here in the den the table lamp shines on everything I write or read.

I loved being in school on a rainy day. I could watch the rain hit the windows. Everything felt slower. The classroom sounds seemed subdued, tampered by the rain. Mostly I could only hear the rustling of book pages as they were turned. Lunch was the busiest part of the day. We walked around to buy our milk. We talked while we ate. We stayed in for recess.

Today I have no errands. Skip took my trash so no dump run. I have plenty of food and have a couple of new books. Today will be quiet. I think you’ll only hear the rustle of pages, the click of Henry’s nails and dialogue from an old movie.

Fall is still holding sway. The day is warm and sunny, at 64˚. The low will be in the mid 50’s tonight. Skip, my factotum, is coming either today or tomorrow. That means he’ll do the dump run. I am saved. He’ll also shut down the deck, and I’ll have him get the Christmas lights ready for an early debut this year. I need the colors and the lights and the expectations they bring.

Today I am watching It: Chapter Two which isn’t as good as the original film, but I am in the mood for a change from politics.

This is the time of day when I have the den all to myself. Gwen never comes down anyway so she is asleep upstairs. Jack joins her for a late morning nap but on his own end of the bed. Henry is also upstairs, but he is in my room with the bed all to himself. I know he stretches. Henry sleeps with me at night.

When I was a little kid, my adventures were close to home. The field below my house was my favorite place. The grass grew so high it was up to my waists, but there was a permanent path made by all of us following the same route through the grass to the woods. On hot summer days the field was alive with grasshoppers and noisy insects. At night it was lit by blinking fireflies flickering on and off. It was a magical place.

The swamp was a border. It was as far as I could wander when I was little. I remember the front of the swamp was clear of any brush or grass but had a slick of green. It was where we skated in winter. It was where we watched polliwogs dart in the swamp water close to the shore in the springtime. I would lie on my stomach on the grass at the water’s edge and watch the polliwogs. I saw them grow and one day they were gone.

Today is another warm, lovely day. The sun is squint your eyes bright. The yellow oak leaves on the backyard trees seem to glow in the sunlight. The birds are in and out of the feeders I filled yesterday. Most of them are chickadees, the state bird of Massachusetts.

Last night I heard a bang in the back. Henry was with me on the couch. When he heard it, he jumped up and ran to the back door barking the whole time. This is the exact moment in the plot when I turned into a B horror movie star who ignored the warnings and went anyway. I got to the kitchen, turned on the back light and opened the door. No one jumped out at me wearing a hook or a mask or carrying a lethal weapon so I kept going. Henry followed. I thought he should be first, being my protector and all, but he was so close behind me he stepped on the back of my slipper. We got to the back, and I saw what had happened. A spawn had run across the deck rail and knocked flower pots over from the rail to the ground, a good distance. Only the the dish under the clay pot couldn’t handle the fall and broke into pieces. I’ll pick up the pot later.

When I was a kid in grammar school, we alternated between having a nun or not having a nun. All the not nuns were women, older women. My very favorite teacher was Miss Quilter, my sixth grade teacher. I remember she wore really thick glasses and white blouses with bows at the neck. I also remember wanting to learn everything from her.

My dance card is empty for the next few days. Wednesday is the first day with an entry: my uke lesson. I have another entry on Thursday, an appointment . That’s two this week. I’ll probably need a nap.

Today is warm and lovely. Sunlight slants through the oak trees in the backyard. Henry stays outside longer in the warmth. I sometimes go out with him and wait on the deck. He plays his deck game with me, run up one set of stairs and across the deck then down the other set then up again. We’ll play later as the bird feeders need to be refilled.

When I was a kid, going to mass on Sundays was mostly an inconvenience. If I didn’t go with my father, my brother and I walked together to a later mass. We could go upstairs or down. Our favorite upstairs pew was the last one in the church. It held only two people. It had no kneeler so we had to sit the whole mass. We loved it. Downstairs was much smaller and sometimes we had to stand in the back. There were racks on the back wall with free pamphlets and saint stuff. I used to read them while mass was going on. When I got older, I cleverly hid the book I was currently reading in the follow along with the mass book. Mass always seemed to end quickly.

The best parts of every Sunday were the comics in the newspaper and Sunday dinner, aways special, always a roast of some sort. When I was young, we had turkey on Thanksgiving and Christmas so it was never part of a Sunday dinner. We had roast chicken, pork and my personal favorite, roast beef. The potatoes were always mashed. The other vegetables were mostly canned except for carrots. We didn’t like the carrots until my mother mashed them and mixed them in with the mashed potatoes. She somehow explained away the orange color, and we bought it.

Henry and I hear sounds. I turn off the TV volume to check and mostly the sounds disappear, muted by the remote. A few keep going. They’re real. Henry hears the barks from the house on the corner across the street. I heard bells last night. I looked out the doors and saw nothing. I’m still curious. Henry will be sleeping soundly on the couch, or seemingly soundly, when he’ll jump up, start howling and run to one door or the other where he’ll continue his howling. That scared the heck out of me until I realized Henry is the dog who cries maybe I heard a noise. Now, I open the door so he’ll see nothing. He does look and so do I just in case.

My family sent me a cassette recorder as a gift the first year I was in Ghana. It came with a few cassettes and a mixed tape my sister made of songs off the radio. When I listened to that tape, all of a sudden my uncle started to sing. He had seen my sister taping and added a song, a Bing song. One of the tapes was Clouds, Joni’s second album. My sister knew I loved Joni.

This is my favorite Joni song. Africa always comes to mind. The three of us, Bill, Peg and I, would listen as we played games on most nights. We found wonderful ways to amuse ourselves, and we never tired of listening.

Today is Joni’s birthday. She is 77. How can that be?

This morning we have a President-Elect. Pennsylvania put Joe Biden over the top. President Trump now joins only five other presidents who did not win re-election. I can finally stop watching the news channels.

The weather is superb for the third day in a row. I think it is even warmer than yesterday. The high could reach 70˚. I need to go out to do a bit of grocery shopping, and I’m glad.

Yesterday I cleaned my little library and added two books. I know it is being visited as there was space for both books, and other books have been added by my little library patrons, including some kid’s books.

When I was a kid, I would loved today, a perfect day for bike riding. I would have left in the late morning, after my favorite shows. Most times I’d pack my lunch and take off by myself. There were different routes I followed through town. One road led to the zoo, another to uptown, the third went pass the golf course to the next town, and the last road, the best road, was Main Street, and it led everywhere.

I have pictures in my memory drawers from when I was a kid. Many, even the simple memories, are still vivid. The bike rack at my school was wooden and painted dark green. It was under the trees. I’d slide my bike into the rack and leave it. I had no lock. My bike was always there at the end of the day. I expected it to be.

I remember the aisles in the movie theater. They were a slight slant. The last row was where couples would sit and make-out. We always laughed. We were kids, and it was the matinee.

The soda fountain at Middlesex Drugs had a granite counter top. Silver straw holders were on the granite. You had to lift the top of the holder and pull the straw out from the pile. They were paper straws. I always ordered a vanilla coke. The soda jerk pushed the container lever to spurt the vanilla syrup in my glass then he’d add the soda water and mix the two. I always sat close to the action so I could watch. It was well worth the dime.

I knew all the big hills and how far I could make it up the hills until I had to walk my bike. I still remember the day I was able to pedal all the way up the hill where I lived. I stopped in front of my house and cheered.

Today is warm and lovely with a here and gone and back again sun and an occasional breeze. I filled all the bird feeders yesterday and hung another, a cylindrical feeder I had taken down when it was under a spawn attack. The chickadees came back first. I watched them from the kitchen window while the coffee brewed. They were quickly in and out of the feeders to nearby branches carrying sunflower seeds in their beaks. The little birds took two or three whacks before they got the meat.

My car is filled with empty boxes, newspapers and a bag of trash. Two more bags need to be loaded into the trunk, but I don’t feel like going to the dump today. I’m thinking late Sunday afternoon. Today I am a sloth.

When I was a kid, I was familiar with snakes, grasshoppers and assorted insects. I never saw animals in the woods near my house. I figure there had to be raccoons, spawns and maybe skunks but they kept a wide berth. When we took family rides, we sometimes saw cows, and the whole car got excited when we once saw a couple of deer eating grass near the road. My father stopped so we could watch. The deer ran away, but even that was amazing to see. I remember their back legs kicking in the air.

My nephew was ten when he came to stay a few days. We went camping at Nickerson State Park in Brewster with my friends and their six kids. One night a skunk waddled by the camp site. My nephew was so excited. He told us it was the first animal he’d ever seen in the wild. I think spawns were my first. I remember feeding them peanuts near the swan boats in the Boston Public Garden. I kept begging my father for more peanuts so he bought more from the vendors who sold small brown paper bags filled with peanuts, and he doled them out to the four of us. The squirrels, not yet called spawns, surrounded us and took the peanuts from our hands. I laughed the whole time. I loved feeding those squirrels, but I was a kid, what did I know about cute rodents?

Yesterday, I had just enough time for a cup of coffee before my uke lesson. At ten, my lesson started. Our last song, an hour later, was Silent Night. I really enjoy learning and playing the uke despite my frustrations. I wish for longer, more adept fingers.

After my lesson was over, I had more coffee and read the papers. I was back to my morning ritual. After that I spent most of my day watching the results of the election, or rather the lack of results. When I got bored, I’d watch movies. Two of them had happy endings. I need happy endings, real or imagined.

When I was a kid, I played the sticks in the school rhythm band. Everybody played in the rhythm band in the second grade. Some kids had metal triangles with little metal hammers, some had maracas and others had tambourines or maybe bells, but I’m not sure. I wanted the triangle. The only good part about the sticks was we were in the front row because I think the nuns recognized sticks could have presented a danger for anyone in front of us. We were a bit enthusiastic.

Six boxes came yesterday. They were the highlights of my day. One box from Chewy had Henry food and treats and Jack and Gwen food and treats. Another box had the special litter I buy. Two boxes had my grocery order from Imperfect Foods. Another box came with some pottery and a Christmas present for a friend. The last box had Saltines and Wheat Thins. Everything has since been put away. My freezer and my larder are filled.

I lost myself a few times yesterday, got distracted. Once I went to the kitchen to get my iPad which was charging; instead, I cleaned the kitchen counter and sink where I had washed the fruits and veggies. The dirt had caught my eye. Next, I brought a few of the empty boxes out to the car for the next dump run. When I got back inside, I sat down. I did not have my iPad. I had forgotten all about it. I think it is still in the kitchen.

As soon as I woke up this morning, I remembered it was Election Day, but that didn’t bring an ending, a sense of relief. I have election angst, a malady I developed in 2016. I will watch the news channels on and off all day alternating with black and white science fiction movies, a few monsters more will hardly be noticed. Tonight I will watch only the news.

I can remember the first election which mattered to me. It was the Kennedy-Nixon 1960 presidential race. I still remember lying on my parents’ bed watching their black and white TV tuned to Huntley-Brinkley. I remember the results were posted by hand. In 1968, when I voted for the first time, I watched the results in my apartment near college on my black and white TV. I swear it was the same TV from 1960. I also remember my disappointment, the first of many disappointments. I’m hoping 2016 was the last.

Right now it is 47˚, the high for the day. Every now and then the sun peeks out from the cloudy gray sky. The wind is blowing the topmost branches.

Last night Henry went outside more than usual at night, and each time he did, he went right to the deck box. I noticed a trash bag on top of the deck box had been opened. I figured there had been or there still was creature behind the deck box. Henry didn’t get for a while. Later he found nothing and lost interest.

My front yard got cleaned this morning. The tall stalks from the hibiscus are gone. The garden has been raked. The trees have been pruned. The only color in front is in the basket by the steps. Gourds surround a pumpkin. In front of the basket is a bigger pumpkin which now has bite marks. I curse the pawns of Satan.

The first time I woke up this morning it was sunny. I turned over and so did the weather. The sun is gone. Clouds have taken over. The wind is strong. Even the thick branches of the oaks are bending and swaying. It’s cold. According to the weather, the sun will be back, but I’m skeptical.

I decided to watch old movies today and am presently watching my first. It is a spectacular choice, 1957’s The Monster from Green Hell. The scene is Africa where a rocket which carried wasps into space to be studied before a manned flight has crashed. They think it crashed in the ocean so nobody looked for it. Big Mistake. Months later reports came out about a monster from Green Hell. That’s it. That’s all you’re getting. I’d suggest watching it when you have absolutely nothing to do except to while away the hours just like the scarecrow. As for me, finding this movie has actually made my day. I love the old black and white science fiction movies. The effects are dated without question, but that’s why I love them.

My grocery ordering has begun. I use three different sites for delivery. One, the all organic store, is not so far away, in Dennisport. Another sends me my order in two boxes. One box is fruit and veggies, and the other is meat and whatever produce needs to be kept cold. My third place is a local market where I get chips and donuts and crackers and cookies and other such tasty tidbits the organic stores don’t have.

My mother used to insist we bundle up for the winter walk to school. When I was young, because I had to wear a skirt as part of my school uniform, my mother made me wear ski pants to keep my legs warm. I hated them. They were not easy to take off in the cloak room, and they hogged all the room on my hook. I remember leggings when I was older. I’m not sure if leggings is the right word, but it is the best I can come up with. They were pink. They weren’t stretchy but were material, and they came down just above my knees. I wasn’t fond of them either, but at least I didn’t have to take them off in the cloak room.