Keep the Coffee Comimg

The house was cool when I woke up so I was shocked by the blast of heat when I went to get the newspapers. When I got back inside, I turned on the air conditioning to keep the heat at bay. The house is comfortable now except I feel as if I’m living in a cave. I haven’t turned on any lights. The back of the house is dark.

When I was growing up, we mostly went on day trips during my father’s vacations, but we did spend a few days here and there in Ogunquit at a cottage belonging to a friend of my father’s. It was in a village of small cottages, rows and rows of them. The attraction was the ocean, only a few minutes walk from the cottage. The problem was the water was freezing. I never went in beyond my feet when the tide was high, but low tide was different. There were sand bars and tidal pools. In a few of the pools small slivery fish swam, but they too fast to catch with my hands.

Sand dunes separated the big beach from the small beach. I’d walk over to the big beach with my father where I’d watch in amazement as he body surf. First off he didn’t care about the cold water. He ran, jumped into the surf and swam out beyond where the waves broke so he could catch one. When he did, he looked like a sleek weirdly colored dolphin riding the surf.

In the cottage, most of the space was taken up by beds to accommodate the family. There was a small table and some chairs in the front room, but we usually ate outside. My father grilled.

I was always bored when we went to Maine. There were few things for kids my age to do. Mostly I just read, but I do remember I went into town one night to see a movie. I don’t remember the movie, but I do remember that just about every seat in the theater was filled.

There were tall sand dunes by the big beach. One time, when I was a kid, I was wandering the beach area looking for shells and driftwood. I decided to walk through the dunes to the cottage. I was shocked to see two naked sunbathers lying on the sand between two of the dunes. I ran home.

The rain fell but for only a short while. Poor Henry was out, and I wasn’t at the door to let him in so he went under the deck out of the rain. When I called him, he checked first to make sure I was there then came upstairs. Henry is now on the couch resting from his ordeal.

Yesterday I received my vote by mail application. All registered voters in Massachusetts received one, with no excuse required. I can have ballots mailed to me for the primary in September and the election in November. I’m sending in my card.

It is chilly right now at 68˚, but it will get warmer, into the low 70’s. My dance card is empty right now. I have dump fodder, but I really don’t want to go. I don’t even want to get dressed. I’m going to hang around the house, maybe watch a movie, definitely read.

When I was a kid, summer rain meant no fun at the playground, but my mother never insisted we stay dry inside the house so we didn’t. I think it was a self-defense decision for her with four kids stuck in a smallish house. I’d take my bike out of the cellar to ride in the rain. I loved speeding through puddles, the bigger the better. I’d take my feet off the pedals and raise my legs in the air over the backwash from my front tire. It was exhilarating.

I love the sound of the rain. I remember it tapping against the long windows in my elementary school and banging on the roof over my head when I was in the fourth grade. Rain plinks when it hits a puddle. Rain on a tin roof drowns out all sounds except its own. It is loud, commanding. Today’s rain was quiet, gentle. I had to stand outside to see if it was still raining. It was, but since then the rain has stopped. Just now the sky got lighter. Dare I hope?

Today is perfection. The bright sun is framed by a blue sky with only a few small clouds. The breeze is keeping the day cool. It’s 71˚. The high may only reach 73˚. The low tonight will be around 62˚. That’s the way it was last night when I closed the windows and the two doors. Periodically, Henry paced from the couch to the hall and back and forth, a signal of his I learned the hard way when he first came. Henry needed out, but the door was closed. Now I get up and open it and close it again. I am well trained but Henry isn’t quite yet. I’ll have to teach him Poochie Bells.

In the evenings lately, I’ve been going through some catalogues. Every now and again I find the perfect Christmas present for someone so I order it. I know this is really early, but my mother always said, “Buy it when you see it. It might never be there again.” She was right, and I listened.

The last two days have been busy for me. I actually got dressed on both days and went out. Yesterday was to the dentist for my cleaning. At least I got a new tooth brush and some floss. I had one more medical stop then I was done. The day before, when I did three errands, including groceries and gas, I’d have expected cheers and confetti, but just doing three errands paled in comparison to what happened later. I did my laundry. Yes, I did. I finished three loads and hauled them up two floors and put them away. While I was in my bedroom, I changed the sheets and started all over again.

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.