Coffee will be shorter today. The rain is imminent, and I want to finish my errands before the soaking. Errands? I didn’t do them yesterday. I didn’t go out. I don’t even think I did anything. I might have, but I don’t remember. All my days have melted together. Last week I thought every day was Saturday. This week I know the days, but the week goes slowly.

Being a sucker for punishment, I watch MSNBC and CNN, mostly at night despite being driven crazy by the late night commercials. There are far too many, and each set of commercials is so long I can whip up dinner, put it on the plate and start eating, but even worse is the repetition. The same commercials appear over and over. No, I don’t want WeatherTech. I don’t want an upright walker. I don’t want a walk-in tub. I don’t need any medications with all those side affects. See the trend?

My air conditioner has been running for the last three days except for periodic stops to open windows and doors to grab a bit of fresh air. Today will be hot and humid with a high of 77˚. Thunder showers are predicted for later. Tonight will get cooler, down to 66˚. Most days I have to check the paper or ask Alexa for the weather because my only exposure to fresh air is the run for the morning paper and yesterday’s mail.

I’m going to make a meatloaf tonight. I don’t know what will go in it yet. I have to rummage through my fridge. I’m going to frost my meatloaf with mashed potatoes the way my mother did. It always looked liked a loaf cake to me, an ice cream loaf cake. I have some carrots. I’ll add a glaze of honey when I cook them. I’m already excited for dinner.

Last night when I let Henry out, it was so muggy I could see droplets in the air. It was around 1:30. Nothing was stirring, and the only sound was Henry rummaging around the yard. After he had finished in the yard, Henry ran up to the backdoor expecting me to open it. I did, and we both hurried into the wonderfully cool house. I slept well last night.

Today is beautiful. The sky is so blue it almost defies description. The sun is squint your eyes bright. The intermittent breeze is strong, but the temperature is already 82˚ and could get a bit higher.

When I was in the eighth grade, John Kennedy, our senator, ran for the White House. Because he was from my state, I followed his run from primary to primary, watched the news and even read more than the funnies. At one of his campaign headquarters, I got a couple of posters and some buttons. I still have those buttons. They and my other political buttons are in a case on the wall. If you saw them, you never have to ask my political affiliation. My favorite is the big button in the middle which says if I were twenty-one I’d vote for Kennedy. One of the other two buttons I got way back when has a picture of then Senator Kennedy. Next in line of favorites are two buttons for McGovern/Shriver. Each says Returned Peace Corps Volunteer for Shriver. The other buttons include a Run, Jesse, Run, one McGovern, a Gary Hart, USA for LBJ and a pretty beat up McGovern and Eagleton which was on my backpack on a trip to Europe.

I remember how excited I was to vote for the first time. I registered the day after I turned twenty-one. With a bit of reverence, I took my ballot, went behind the curtain and voted. My candidate did not win.

I’m geared up to vote in November. I’m going to get a mailing ballot. I’ll keep it safe from marauders.

Last night it poured. I heard the first drops around one. Henry, of course, backed away from the door when it was time for him to go out before bed. It is no longer raining, but it is still cloudy and dark. Every now and then the sun breaks through and seems to stay longer each time. I’m cheering for it. There is a breeze from the north, but the humidity is so high the poor breeze hasn’t a chance.

Saturday is turnover day here when people come and go from rentals. The people who were staying next door are gone. I don’t know if the house is rented this week, but I’ll know when Henry howls. The hound in him comes out when he hears a noise and can’t locate the source.

I didn’t go out yesterday. Mostly I read and watched MSNBC or CNN. I guess I’m a sucker for punishment.

Today I haven’t a list. I just can’t get myself motivated. I know the plants need watering, and the laundry is still downstairs leaning on the washer. I suppose (insert sigh here) I can do the laundry.

I have some fireballs. I finished one, but it took a while because I had to keep taking it out of my mouth because it was so hot. When I was a kid, a mark of bravery was to keep the fireball in your mouth the whole time. The key was to move the fireball from cheek to cheek until it was small enough to pulverize. The best thing about fireballs is they were a penny candy.

Family trips were fraught with controversy. My brother and I, by eminent domain, had back seat windows. My sister sat in the middle, a bone of contention with her. My other sister sat up front between my parents. My brother and I argued over space and didn’t tolerate even the smallest incursion to our sides. Sound was amplified in the car. My father threatened to turn around and go home, but we’d heard that time and again and not once did we ever turn around so the threat didn’t work. I didn’t know the phrase idle threat existed, but there it was multiplied. Next, my dad tried to whack us from the front seat. It was funny watching his hand and arm reaching into the backseat and getting only air, not us. He couldn’t reach either one of us. We didn’t dare laugh out loud, but we snickered behind our hands so he couldn’t see us. That would have been baiting the bear.

Rain is coming. It will arrive this evening and stay a couple of days. We really need that rain. Everything is dry, but right now it is only cloudy. The once in a while breeze is from the north. I always hate anything coming from the north. That usually means heavy duty storms with crippling snow or a deluge of rain. I have to go out for a bit so I hope the rain holds off until I finish a couple of errands.

When I was a kid, I never knew much of what was going on outside of my little town except for sports, mostly the Red Sox. I never watched the news, but I did know about possibly being blasted into oblivion by the atomic bomb. I am of the duck and cover generation. I believed crouching under my desk would save my life from the bomb.

Every other year I had nuns as teachers. They had a bit of mystery about them as most were totally covered by their habits. We used to try and guess the color of our nun’s hair under her wimple. They all made noise, the clinking of rosary beads against each other when they walked. It was our forewarning sound. The nun is coming. The nun is coming.

I am finally acknowledging the heat. It has been in the low 80’s the last couple of days, but I was okay with the heat until the humidity arrived. The air has been so thick you can feel the moisture. Yesterday I turned on the AC. I slept wonderfully and was even chilly enough to get a blanket.

The screens have been put into the two doors. Henry hasn’t left the front. He announces every sound in case a stranger might be around so I’m still working on Henry not barking. I go to him as soon as he barks. I talk to him and pat him, and so far, he has stopped barking each time. I’m going too keep trying to stop his extraneous barking.

My house is clean. The laundry is out of sight. It is downstairs next to the washer. I’ll get to it some time. I always do.

Last night I just couldn’t get to sleep. It was almost two when I went upstairs to bed. Around three, I decided my bedroom needed to be neatened so I got up and put stuff away in the eaves. Jack tried to get by me into the eaves. That was the last thing I wanted so I shut the door just before he got inside. Jack got huffy. I didn’t care.

In the paper today, I read a short article about the resumption of federal executions. In Indiana, three people are scheduled for execution. What caught my attention was a comment from the Bureau of Prisons, “Officials insist they will be able to conduct the executions safely and have been holding practice drills for months.”

I didn’t turn out my bedroom light until close to five. I almost decided to stay up but common sense sent me to bed. Henry and I woke up at ten. He has napped. I have not.

For my birthday one year, my parents said I could have a pajama party. That meant inviting my nearest and dearest friends. My parents and I did the planning together. We shopped for junk food, and my dad and I went to buy the drinks at a company whose name I forget. The drinks were carbonated and came in glass bottles in a wooden box. That’s all I can remember.

My friends and I had the most amazing time. The whole night was a din. We laughed, sang, munched on goodies, drank soda and generally made a lot of noise. My parents lasted a good long time, but my father decided around three that we needed our sleep. He was right. It didn’t take long for us to fall asleep.

We are in the middle of a string of beautiful days except every day is getting hotter. Today will be in the low 80’s, and my air conditioner is already cranking. I’m staying close to home today. I have no reason to go anywhere except the deck and the outside shower.

A year or so ago the door, my only way out of the shower, wouldn’t open with me stuck inside. Out of desperation, I frenetically banged the door, silly me. I called out, but there was no one around to hear me. I started playing around with the latch, and I was able to move it from the inside. I cheered when I got the door opened. Now, I always bring my phone when I take an outside shower.

Today is another lovely day, but I’m a bit unnerved wondering what Mother Nature has planned. I swear she is lulling us into a false sense of summer.

So far I have lived through a cholera epidemic and am presently holding my own again covid. Now, however, another plague has appeared in China, of all places. A herdsman was diagnosed with bubonic plague or ‘black death’ in the country’s Inner Mongolia region, but, according to the report, he is doing well and resting comfortably. I wondered how comfortably. While I was thinking about the poor guy, it happened. Poe’s story, The Masque of the Red Death, jumped into my head from my memory drawers prompted, I’m sure, by my being quarantined. Poe’s ending was horrifying. I’ll leave it at that!

I have settled into a quarantine routine. I sleep late then I let Henry out and I feed him when he’s back inside. I have two cups of coffee, one with each newspaper. I dawdle. I read The Globe first then The Cape Times. After that I check my e-mail then write Coffee. The rest of the day is whatever. Sometimes I spot clean. Always, I spend part of the time reading. Wednesday is errand day.

My yard guy was here this morning. I was awakened by the sound of the mower which Henry also heard. He jumped off the bed and ran downstairs and started barking. He stopped for a bit to pee and to eat then started barking again. I shut the front door, but that didn’t fool Henry. He just kept barking. He stopped when the guy left. Henry is now resting.

My front garden looks wonderful. The wild rose bushes have been trimmed so I can get in the car without risking thorns. The gardens were weeded then the mulch was spread. I always think of that as the last chore for the spring garden. Now I get to enjoy the flowers so beautifully bright with color.

When I woke up, I looked out my bedroom window only to see another dark, dreary day. When I let Henry out, I could feel the dampness. It makes the air feel chilly. The high today will be 72˚, the low 61˚. The sun may make an appearance, but I’m skeptical.

I love reading, and, lately, I have spend days reading. Sometimes I read in bed while other times I read downstairs hoping to get tired enough to go to bed.

I woke this morning after 10 because I heard the phone ring. I had gone to bed close to 2. That seems to happen most days now.

I don’t seem to eat whole meals anymore. I tend to graze. Part of the reason is I am too lazy to cook. Another reason is I forget to take anything out of the freezer, filled with mostly chicken and ground beef. I could make a meatloaf, but then I’d have to walk to the kitchen, open the freezer, hunt around until I find the ground beef then put everything back then get the meat ready. I’m tired just thinking about it, and I haven’t even mentioned the potatoes.

I’ve got to do my wash. The hall is cluttered with pillow cases filled with laundry. They will soon overrun the house.

Henry looks out the front door in vain. He is ready to bark incessantly when someone walks by, but foot traffic has been almost nonexistent. Henry is so quiet I keep checking that he is okay, but just a short while back, he did have a throat growl but no bark.

Late night commercials are for drugs, chairs that lift you so you can stand up, a stair rider so you don’t have to climb, walk-in bathrooms and life insurance. I swear all of those commercials are aimed me, at my age. I guess many of us suffer from age group insomnia.

Mostly I am an optimist, and I always think hope sides with me for without hope the world is a scary place.

This is an entry from last July 4th. It describes every year but this one. This year being patriotic also means taking care of yourself and others by wearing a mask and social distancing if you can.

I just love birthdays and today is the grandest of them all. 

On July 3rd 1776, John Adams wrote a letter to his wife Abigail. In it, he predicted the celebrations for American Independence Day, including the parties:

“It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews, Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other.”

John Adams expected July 2nd to be Independence Day as that was the day the Second Continental Congress voted for independence, but the signing ceremony for the Declaration of Independence didn’t happen until two days later so because July 4th appears on the Declaration, it became the date we celebrate Independence.

I know some people complain that the meaning of the day is lost in the barbecues and the fireworks, but they have forgotten John Adams’ hope. We are honoring the day exactly as he wished. Flags are waving everywhere. Families get together to celebrate and to break bread, albeit hot dog rolls. Fireworks illuminate the sky. Baseball is played on small town fields and in huge stadiums. Drums beat the cadence in parades. We sing rousing songs celebrating America and our freedom. We also sing heartfelt songs about what America means to us. We are many sorts of people, we Americans. We don’t all look the same, practice the same religion, eat the same foods or dress in the same way, but we all celebrate today.

“You have to love a nation that celebrates its independence every July 4th, not with a parade of guns, tanks, and soldiers who file by the White House in a show of strength and muscle, but with family picnics where kids throw Frisbees, the potato salad gets iffy, and the flies die from happiness. You may think you have overeaten, but it is patriotism.” Happy Birthday, America, from all of us Americans.