Keep the Coffee Comimg

The nights go by so quickly. I start reading or straightening pictures or just fiddling around and then I notice it is already 2:30. I usually just shrug and go back to what I was doing until morpheus holds sway. This morning it was close to four before I went to bed. It was close to noon when I woke up.

Today is hotter than it has been. It is also very still. We’re at our predicted high of 80˚ right now. The back of the house where I am is still cool, still holding on to the evening chill, but when I went out earlier, I could hear my neighbor’s AC cranking. He got the morning sun.

I’m hanging around the house and deck today. With no to do list, I’ll read and loll. Later I’ll take my outside shower. I’ll bring my phone just in case the latch sticks.

I voted in the primary, by mail. I’ll also vote in the presidential election by mail. It is easier but even more importantly it is safer. Only in one other election, in 1970’s general election, did I vote by absentee ballot.

I was in Ghana for their first general election, in October 1969, after the coup of 1966. It was exciting. The Ghanaians wore cloth with their party’s symbols, fanned themselves with political party fans. There were big rallies, impromptu parades and a lot shouting and cheering. I even went to a rally. My Ghanaian father supported Kofi Busia and the Progress Party. Kofi Busia won the election. He became Prime Minister.

I met Kofi Busia at a luncheon in my town. The principal dragged me with her. There were around twenty guests, the mucky mucks from town and one Peace Corps volunteer, dragged unwillingly.

The breeze from the north is strong and cooling. It will be sunny all day but only stay around 80˚. Tonight will be in the mid 60’s, comfortable for sleeping.

I haven’t decided if I’ll go to the dump today. The trash is in the car, but I think I’ll stay close to home.

Huzzah! I did the laundry. I do have a small load left because I ran out of detergent before I could wash it, but I’ll finish today as I bought detergent on a quick trip to the grocery store, to Ring’s, where I also bought cut fruit, ice tea, hummus and a piece of cake. The last item is my prize for doing laundry.

I couldn’t get to sleep last night. When I paused my reading and checked the clock, it was 1:30. That surprised me. The time had taken off without me. I watched a bad movie hoping it would drive me to bed. Around 3, I went upstairs and played a few games on my iPad. It was close to four, when I turned off the light. It was noon when I woke up.

After all this time stuck inside the house, it is difficult to distinguish between my being bored and my being tired, but I’m thinking I’m leaning toward the former, toward boredom, or the laundry would still be leaning against the door. The amount of dirty laundry is an indicator of my mood.

Yesterday two boxes from Amazon came. One had cookies and ice tea. The other had color coded dish cloths for specific tasks. Just what I need, another list. What do I call this one? Weird things I bought because they piqued my interest?

I have a list of tasks, of do whenever tasks. The list includes going through Christmas presents I’ve bought and marking the clip board. I also need to move the new pillows and cushions from the dining room to the deck. Every time I see them piled in the dining room they drive me crazy, but then again, it doesn’t take much any more to put me over the edge. Seriously, a pile of pillows and cushions?

We had a bit of rain the other day. The drops were heavy for about five minutes then the rain stopped, and the sun ventured from behind the clouds. It has been lovely since then with warm days and cool nights. Today is about perfect.

Last night I wanted to hurt Alexa. I played a dumb game using rhyming words. The first clue was the abominable snowman a hot day. I guessed sweaty Yeti. Alexa said it was the wrong answer. The correct answer, according to Alexa, was sweaty Yeti. I tried another rhyme. I gave my answer, and the virtual shrew told me it was the wrong answer. The right answer was exactly what I’d said. I swore at the shrew who said she didn’t know that one. She’ll learn.

I grew up with television. There was one in our living room as far back as I can remember. The early TV’s were huge pieces of furniture in cabinets needing their own wall in the living room. I remember moving the TV to make room for the Christmas tree. When I was a kid, I thought the TV was miraculous. You turned a dial and a picture with sound was right there in the living room for you to watch. Sometimes the picture was snowy or it jumped up and down. One of us would fiddle with the rabbit ears until we got a good picture.

I remember the color screen we put across the TV picture. It was supposed to look like the program we were watching was in color. The top of the screen was blue for the sky and the bottom green for grass. It didn’t at all resemble a real color TV, but at least the picture wasn’t black and white anymore. When color TV sets got cheaper, we begged my father for one. He gave before we moved to the cape. I remember watching Star Trek in color.

This summer we haven’t had movies on the deck. I really miss those fun evenings with my friends watching old black and white B science fiction movies while eating popcorn and malted milk balls. I bought a couple of new ones for this summer. I’ll put them away for next summer.

Yesterday the rain continued on and off. It must have rained during the night as everything is wet. The air is chilly from the rain. I shut a couple of windows but left the doors open. I needed the lamp lit. The day is dark.

When I was a kid, my third grade nun told me to mouth the words to the May procession songs. From then on I never sang where someone could hear me, but in the car I always sing enthusiastically and loud. I love music and have since I had a record player for my red and yellow records, but I don’t know much about music. A key for me is something you put into the lock to open the door; regardless, I love music and have always have, just sung by someone else.

In Ghana, in the late 1960’s, highlife was the music played everywhere. It was a bit Ghanaian and a bit jazz with calypso as part of the mix. It was like Ghana’s big band era. I loved highlife music. It had a unique rhythm. It had guitars and drums and brass, and I could hear the calypso. Highlife was played everywhere, even from radios in the shops along the roadside. I have a few records of highlife, and I cherish them.

During my first year in Ghana, my family sent me a cassette recorder, a mixed tape and a few favorite albums. I played my music most nights. I can never hear Joni sing Chelsea Morning without seeing my living room, with the red bulb shining from the cassette, with the three chairs with red cushions and my bookcase. We’d sit there, Bill, Peg and I, and listen. Bill and I were a bit hazy on, “I will bring you incense owls by night.” Why, he wanted to know, would someone bring an incense owl? Maybe because it was cute? Who knows? We both agreed the oranges were green. I wonder if the Ghanaians thought it odd that green fruit is called orange.

The sun has come out. It looks like a pretty day.

We have rain though barely enough to mention. The wind is blowing, and the day is dark. I’ve left the lights off. I like the mood. It’s sort of spooky.

In my bedroom, the only light I use is clipped to the headboard. I had lamps like that when I was a kid. I’d snuggle into my blankets and read by the light of my bed-lamp. The light was close to me, just over my head. I remember pink plastic lights. I melted a couple. They didn’t last in the heat under the covers for long when I was sneaking and reading.

When I was a kid, there were Golden Books but not as many as now. My mother used to read them to me. She told me I knew all the animals in the circle on the back when I was two. I’ve already mentioned Henny Penny, my favorite. My mother read my brother and me Treasure Island. The treachery of Long John Silver crushed me. Back then I read the classics like Little Women and Little Men. I read Wind in the Willows, and I envied Doctor Dolittle. Black Beauty and Old Yeller made me cry. My mother introduced me to mysteries, but I found science fiction on my own. Heidi gave me my first glimpse of the Alps. So many books for me.

I was an adult when I found Narnia and The Lord of the Rings. Afterwards, I gave the books as gifts so no-one else would have to wait. To me, books are personal gifts and finding just the right book takes time. I found one last year for a friend. She liked it and was passing it along. I was happy knowing I’d found The Book. Right now I am reading one which has potential for Christmas. I hope so.

It has started raining. I can hear the drops almost one at a time. I hear drops on metal and the different sound of the drops on the roof. The close drops are right outside the open den window. I hear drops on the barbecue cover, on the furniture and on the roof overhang. It is a plethora of sounds, a symphony of rain. The wind brings the crescendo, and all the leaves are blown north to south then it is quiet again except for a few drops of rain.

Last night my house had a late summer feel. Shadows fell in a different way. The angle of the sun has changed. At 5:45 I needed to turn on the lamp here in the den then I turned off the AC and opened windows and the backdoor. Outside was quiet. The cool night breeze was from the north, on my neck and back. I watched the Red Sox -Yankee’s game for a while. I do miss people at the games though the way the Sox are playing, maybe not. 

Today is almost chilly. The sky is filled with clouds. A cold wind is from the north. According to the weatherman, maybe we’ll have rain but maybe not. That means regardless of the weather he’ll be 100% correct.

When I was a kid, I never baked or cooked anything. In the summer, I’d sometimes make my own lunch, a bologna sandwich. I liked bologna, still do, and I loved sandwiches back then because they were portable. I’d cut a chunk of the bologna from the round of meat. It never came sliced from the deli the way it comes now. I always cut uneven slices, thicker at one end. Luckily, though, the bread was soft enough to follow the contours of the bologna. Sometimes I used mustard. Other times I used mayonnaise. I wasn’t particular. I’d throw in cookies if we had them and fruit if we didn’t. Cookies went fast in my house. Fruit lasted longer, except for watermelon. It went quickly.

Oreos were big in my house, the regular Oreos, that’s all they had back then. We all ate our Oreos the same way. Every kid I knew did. Split the sandwich in two. Eat the plain cookie side first (unless you’re one of my sisters. Then you feed the empty side to the dog) then use your teeth to scrape off the creme from the other cookie and then eat it. That second cookie was always streaked with creme.

I don’t know if I have a favorite cookie. I like so many. I guess I’d have to make a list in no certain order. On the list would be chocolate covered Oreos, a sublime cookie. Chocolate chip cookies have to be on the list, sort of a cookie emeritus. Anise cookies, the way my Uncle Jack made them, are high on my list. They go with Christmas celebrations. Scooter pies too are on the list. They’re definitely not pies, maybe small cakes, but I’ll stick with cookie. I like hermits because they are a different sort filled with raisins, dates and nuts. The spices like cinnamon and cloves say winter to winter.

I have no cookies right now. I wish I did.

The air is much less humid, and it’s cooler. 77˚ is the current temperature, and tonight could even get as low as 68˚. Today is an open the windows and doors day.

Around three this morning I got up to go to the bathroom. I turned on the light. I could see Jack and Gwen lying in the hall, in the path of the air-conditioner. That reminded me of night travel in Ghana. When we were driving through towns and small villages, we could see goats sleeping in the middle of the road, on the white line. Despite the cars, they never moved for the road. That is sort of what the cats were doing.

Yesterday was my just hang around day. I lolled. Today I’m easing in to doing a bit of work. The outside feeders need filling, and the deck flowers need watering, but they’ll wait until later as I have to go out.

When I was a kid, we never had regular check ups anywhere. We went to the dentist if we had a toothache and to the doctor when something happened. I remember the dentist used gas so I didn’t mind going. I seldom went to the doctor. That was just the way it was back then. I do remember getting my vaccination before I went to school. My friends had theirs on their arms while mine was on my upper left leg. I remember when it got scabby. It looked gross. I also remember when I somehow knocked part of the scab off when I was playing, but it didn’t matter because by then I was safe from smallpox.

I will vote by mail. I got my primary ballot in the mail the other day. Voting is for me an act of reverence. It is the most important responsibility of every citizen even if you don’t like either candidate, the common excuse for not voting. Notice I used the word excuse.

Today you get short-changed as I need to finish and get to my appointment, but I figure getting out of the house may be my story for tomorrow.

Today is cloudy, and without the sun, the house felt cool so I turned off the AC and opened some windows. The house got hot quickly. The adage not the heat but the humidity must have been coined here in New England sometime in August. I’ll throw another one at you, the dog days of summer. We’re caught in both of them.

My friend Maria called. She and I have been friends since the fourth grade for me and the fifth grade for her. I remember when I was in high school going many times to her Sunday family dinner. Every dish was Italian. Every dish was delicious.

My aunt married an Italian. She was my mother’s older sister. My mother used to tell us my aunt wouldn’t even carry Italian bread so my mother thought it ironic that my aunt married an Italian. To top it off he owned a fish market in East Boston which was heavily Italian back then. My father and my uncle were great friends. They fished together for smelt, and my father used to help him around Christmas. Because of the Night of Seven Fishes, the market was non stop customers. I have a new dad story from his time selling fish just before Christmas. A woman wanted a fresh eel. She said they looked dead. My father grabbed one, which was dead, and moved it around as if it were fighting him. The woman bought the “live” eel.

All of the above is the back story connecting Italian and my aunt. I remember visiting her in East Boston with my parents. She and my uncle and two cousins lived in the tiniest apartment. On one visit, she served spaghetti in clam sauce. I liked spaghetti and I liked clams, but I never would have put the two together. She served and grated cheese on top. I tried some out of courtesy. It had an unexpected taste. It was delicious. I don’t think I’ve had it since.

Now I am looking for a taser. I went on the deck this morning and saw one of the clay pots from the rail had fallen and was broken. The spawns use the deck rail as their transportation network so the culprit is not in question, maybe a potato gun.

We’re still stuck in all that heat. Half my lawn is dying so I’m thinking the water from my irrigation system is not hitting that side. Maybe I should keep a hose and sprinkler as a back up.

My laundry is still in the basket in the hall. Given my laundry history, I’ll need to run out of clothes before I do that wash. It is on the list but it has been on the list for a couple of days, well, almost a week.

Today is dump day. I’ve already put one bag outside by the car. It was the smelly bag. I had to double bag it.

Usually I treat myself to a restaurant delivery once a week, but I skipped last week. Instead, I took some homemade sauce out of the freezer and added ziti. I even made garlic bread. That meal lasted two suppers and a lunch.

I’m now thinking a clam plate for dinner. It comes with French fries and onions rings, the best onion rings, the thin ones. It’s been a while since I’ve had clams. I remember my mother never ate the ones with bellies, so un-New Englandish. She also hated steamers. Shrimp was her seafood of choice. It was my alternate.

Chocolate, I’m thinking chocolate cures everything, and I haven’t had any in a while. It’s no wonder small things are starting to drive me crazy. I go around straightening stuff which isn’t crooked. Yesterday I went through one side of the den closet. I took a few things out, but mostly I put everything back. It was the definition of futility.