Keep the Coffee Comimg

The morning is chilly, 67˚. The house is cold so I’m back to wearing my sweatshirt. I went out with Henry for a bit. The day is pretty and warmer than I expected. The sun is squint your eyes bright. A breeze ruffles the leaves on the oak trees. I’m thinking a bit of deck time.

When I was a kid, I thought Sundays were wasted days. I had to dress up and go to church. That ruined the morning. The afternoons were mine as long as I stayed close to home, no bike rides. Sunday dinner was usually around 2ish. I loved Sunday dinner. We always had a roast of some sort, mashed potatoes, gravy and a couple of vegetables. Peas were often one of those vegetables. I still love baby peas in the can and even bought a couple the last time I shopped. The only drop back to having them in the pantry is I’ll have to cook. I think I have a roasting chicken in the freezer. I know I have potatoes. Sounds like Sunday dinner to me.

I find myself talking out loud to no-one. Many times it is the TV which prompts my comments. I am isolated by circumstance. My friends Bill and Peg keep in touch. They want to know how I’m doing. My sister, Moe, and I talk every Sunday. Every few days I call my other sister, Sheila. That’s it for other voices.

I have nothing planned for today. I’ll be staying home again though I really do need to get my deck flowers and herbs. Tomorrow, I suppose. I have a list of what I want, the first list I’ve written in a while. It is good to have my lists again.

The birds are singing. That makes the moment.

What a beautiful day! It is pleasant and cool, 65˚, and there is no humidity. Yesterday I got so warm I turned on the air conditioner. Now I’m a bit chilly.

This is about the time in June when summer vacation started. On that last day, we didn’t have to wear uniforms, and it was only a half day. My nun gave out our report cards one kid at a time. We all immediately turned to the back of the card to make sure we were promoted. I never knew any kid who was held back.

A couple of summers I went to Girl Scout day camp. It was at the lodge, Camp Alyeska. I loved that camp. It had a big room with a giant fireplace. There were storage benches all around the room which held the cots, old wooden and canvas cots. Our troop leaders had their own room. There was also a kitchen and bathrooms. Outside the lodge, there were cleared spaces, each with a picnic table. Campers, by ages, were assigned a spot. I remember when I was in either the seventh or eight grade. We were the oldest campers. We were not great role models. I remember folding the flag at the end of camp one day and laughing, triggered by my folding buddy. We got reamed for that. My mother was a camp leader one year. I remember she had the tallest spot. Behind the lodge we’d hike on the trails among the tall pine trees. We’d collect leaves and wild flowers then use them in crafts. I don’t know how long my camp stood among the trees. I know when last I went by where the camp road used to be, I saw trucks and earth movers parked right there. I wish I remembered where the paths through the woods which led to the camp were. I’d like to look.

Sports on TV have taken a strange turn. ESPND is now showing the American Log Lift Record, an obvious audience grabber (tongue in cheek comment). After that I get to watch the ACL Cornhole Championship. Wow!

Sometimes I forget how old I am. Inside I am still quite young. It is only the outside which looks old. My hair is mostly gray. My smile lines have turned into wrinkles. I forget things, and sometimes the perfect word eludes me. I sigh a lot.

Last night it rained, pretty much the whole night. It is still cloudy, and the humidity is hanging in the air. It is dump day.

My father loved his lawn, and my mother loved her small flower garden. The first time they came to see my new house my father brought his garden tools and some plants for the front garden. My mother and I went shopping. When we got home, my father gave us the grand tour from front to back. The lawn in front had been easy. He had mowed it and trimmed the beds. But when he saw the back, he complained because it had grown totally out of control. It was so tall it was a field which I didn’t think needed mowing. I never really thought of it as a lawn. Who saw it anyway? My father was quite proud of having cleared that area near the house. The grass had disappeared in a wide swath. He told me to keep it clear. I sort of did.

I was so happy to see my cleaning couple yesterday. My house is now clean, all of it, every nook, every corner. When I walk, no balls of dust are dislodged. None of the rugs are covered in fur. Everything was polished so I can’t write on the tables anymore. They arrived at just the right moment. I don’t know if I could have wielded another mop without screaming.

After the dump, I’m headed to Agway to buy my window box flowers and herbs. I love wandering the aisles there. I find what I want but then I end up buying far more. I’ll plant them another day.

The wind is strong enough to blow the curtains. It is really humid but no rain until tomorrow despite the totally overcast sky. My house is dark which feels cooling. Alexa is playing rain sounds which are relaxing and even soothing. It is just what I need.

My political awakening was in 1960 when John Kennedy ran for president. Because he was from Massachusetts, he was my candidate. That he was a Catholic sealed the bond. I remember hearing people believed if Kennedy were elected, the president would somehow be more loyal to the Vatican than to the American people. Even I, at the tender age of thirteen, knew this was idiocy and ignorance, and I was angry. Kennedy faced it full on, “I am not the Catholic candidate for president. I am the Democratic party’s candidate for president, who happens also to be a Catholic. I do not speak for my church on public matters, and the church does not speak for me.”

My cleaning couple is coming back today. I can put the dust broom, the vacuum and my sweatshirt sleeve away for now or for at least for a couple of days, but I’ll keep my go bag just in case the dust and fur balls take over again, and we have to run for our lives.

I am sedentary by nature. I used to walk 8 miles a day, but my back has made even short walks painful. The most exercise I get is tossing trash bags at the dump, wielding a mean dust mop and swabbing the decks.

When I was a kid, I remember watching the town’s trash trucks empty the barrels in front of our house. All the guys on those trucks wore filthy clothes and filthier gloves. They’d grab the barrels, hold them behind their backs and then empty the trash in the back of the trucks. My favorite part was when the trash got compressed. That night, my father would haul in the barrels and put them back downstairs.

My deck is in dire need of cleaning, but I’ll have to wait until the pollen goes away. The prediction is for rain the next couple of days so that may spell the end of that disgusting yellow green pine pollen.

I have no lists and no errands, but I may have to manufacture one to get me out of the house. There’s always the dump!

Today’s musing will be short. I need to get out of the house. My sanity is at issue, but I really do have some errands so it works.

The day is partially sunny. It’s warm. The high will be in the low 70’s, the low in the 60’s. I’d love to have this weather every day. It’s perfect.

I gave Henry one of those chews he loves. He was eating it on the couch. A bit later he stood up and looked to the floor. That’s the sign he’s dropped it but can’t see it so he expects me to get it. I hunted and hunted under the couch. I was lying down to look but I saw nothing. I pushed my back scratcher underneath the couch. It unearthed Henry’s spawn of Satan. I wondered where that went. But after finding nothing else, I gave up. About five minutes later I saw Henry in the hall. It was in his mouth. I got punked by my dog.

When I was a kid, meals were usually around the same time every day except in the summer. That was more of a catch as catch can. It was a quick whirl in the kitchen to make a sandwich to go for lunch, but in the early evening, for supper, we sat down at the table usually without my father who worked a late day and my mother who usually ate at the counter. I don’t remember many of those suppers. I know we had corn and probably burgers or hot dogs. Tater Tots were big. My mother never served a salad except potato salad, the perfect accompaniment for a burger. I always opted for a cheeseburger. My mother topped it with the yellow cheese individually wrapped. I still order a cheeseburger, but the cheese is far more sophisticated. It’s often Monterey Jack.

I’m ready to face the world. I’ve showered so as not to be offensive, brushed my teeth so I can smile without food being stuck and have almost gotten dressed. It’s time.

Lovely is the perfect word to describe today. It is dry and pleasant with a bright sun, a blue sky and a slight breeze. The temperature is 71˚. This is going to be a stay home and read day. I have nothing pressing.

Writing Coffee isn’t easy in these days of being housebound. Cleaning has been a big topic. It is about the only way I keep busy. Laundry too has had its day in the sun so to speak. As for today, I’m going to water the plants. I’ll rest in between moving from room to room.

When I bought my house, my mother brought down some stuff she had saved from my childhood. I have three Fanny Farmer rooster egg cups in a bright cheery yellow. Some of the beaks are missing, but they were missing when I was young. The small white chair came from one of my father’s uncles. My mother said he made it for me when I was three. Right now a doll I had sits on the chair. The doll is wearing red overalls and a pattern shirt. The overalls have a patch. The doll has yellow braids. I was not a doll person, but I liked this one because it isn’t one of those dolls with puffy dresses and a hole in its mouth for a bottle. My mother also brought down all my childhood books like The Bobbsey Twins, Trixie Belden, Donna Parker and Nancy Drew. I bought a small bookcase and filled it with all those books. That they are in wonderful condition is because I loved books and took special care when I was reading them. I bought many of the Whitman hard cardboard cover books with my allowance. They were 49¢ which gave me a whole penny to spend. Back in those days, even the lowly penny had value.

Massachusetts starts Phase 2 today which the governor calls cautious. It is a huge step. So many places are opening it seems almost normal, but it isn’t even close. Kids can play sports and go to playgrounds. Hotels, pools, funeral homes and so much more have the green light to open. My favorite, though, is personal services can start. That includes house cleaners. Halleluia!

In maybe three weeks, the next phase will begin as long as there is no spike of new cases. That phase is called vigilant. Three or so weeks after that begins the last phase, the new normal, but I think phase 4 needs a different name. Nothing about this is normal.

Today is dank and overcast, but it is cooler than yesterday and far less humid. Showers are predicted. The high will be 65˚.

I alternate between sweating far more than a lady should and then needing my sweatshirt because I’m cold. I haven’t had my morning coffee yet. I don’t feel up to par as my mother would have said.

My freezer is full, but I forgot to defrost anything. I miss my hot dogs. They are always my go to meal. My second go to meal is eggs. Those I have. I even think I have some bacon. Sounds like dinner!

I order in once a week. Last week it was a total meal with potatoes, meat, vegetables and warm rolls. It lasted two full dinners.

Yesterday I watched World War II movies, it being D-Day and all. Many were filmed during the war and served as rousing salutes. One movie, 1000 Plane Raid, I watched with a bit of nostalgia. The only other time I saw it was in Niamey, Niger during my Peace Corps days. The embassy there showed movies every Saturday night, and because I was always hungry for a movie on the big screen, I went to watch. That I stayed the whole time is a tribute to my forbearance. Last night, despite that memory from so long ago, I watched it again, in entirety. I’m now thinking my not feeling up to par might be a residual from watching 1000 planes raid, one really bad movie.

My plans for today are simple. Do nothing. I may shower, but I make no promises. After all, I’m not expecting company.

Last night it poured. I had my bedroom window open so I got to hear the raindrops. It was a tough night. I had trouble getting to sleep. It was close to five when I last checked the time. Jack was with me. I think Henry was downstairs, but when I woke up, Jack was gone. Henry had taken his place.

Today is disgustingly humid, leftover from the rain. The air is so thick I swear I can see it dripping (a slight exaggeration acceptable under the circumstances). Once in a while, the leaves are blown about then they just sit. Thunderstorms are predicted.

I didn’t get my dump sticker. I didn’t include a copy of my registration. I’m going to have to find a place that makes copies. I have until June 15th to get the sticker.

I feel out of sorts, a bit disconnected. I find myself talking to the animals and the TV. Henry waits until I finish then he wanders. Jack jumps up for pats as does Gwen when I visit. I tend to raise my voice at the TV, never the animals.

Henry wouldn’t come into the den. He had a look, one I recognize and hate, his fearful look. His tail was between his legs. When I see that, I always figure something happened, and he thinks he’ll get punished. I looked around. Henry had thrown up on the living room floor. I cleaned it up then gently told poor Henry what a good dog he is. His tail finally wagged. He is a happy dog again. I wish I could find the people who did this to him, to my sweet boy. He is on the couch now and is deep asleep.

I have declared today a cleaning free day. Let the dust abide.

The rain is light. It was expected. The temperature is 69˚. The low for the day will be 62˚. I’ve been out and about the last two days so I’m staying home today though I still need to buy flowers and herbs for the garden and the deck boxes. I’m thinking Monday.

Yesterday I swept then washed the kitchen floor, just in time for today’s rain and new Henry paw prints.

Henry keeps chasing poor Jack. He jumps at him and purposely lands right behind Jack all the way down the hall. Poor Jack’s little legs move so fast they’re a blur. Henry is having fun. You can see it in his face. Poor Jack jumps on the table, his sanctuary. I pat Poor Jack, and he always falls asleep purring.

My big chore for today is to put all the lantern glass through the dishwasher. Yesterday I noticed how dusty they are, especially the ones in the dining room. I’m thinking this is a symptom. Seriously, who makes plans to wash lantern glass. How bored must this woman be?

Saltines were a stable of my childhood. I used to crush them into my soup, and I used so many the liquid was always absorbed. My father, my sister and I ate canned sardines on Saltines. I find that disgusting now. I can still see those headless fish crammed into the can and packed with olive oil. How could I have eaten those fish? Saltines slathered with peanut butter were a favorite snack of mine. Sometimes I made a fluffernutter with the crackers when I added marshmallow. Why this cracker conversation you’re probably wondering? I bought a box of Saltines, but I didn’t buy any fish.

Today is another warm, sunny day. I have to go out again in a bit, but I’m not complaining. The traffic on the side roads was light yesterday. It took me only fifteen or so minutes to get to Hyannis, and I never waited more than a single light cycle.

I was on the deck with Henry for a little while, but he got bored and went back inside through the dog door. He has used the door to come inside twice already today, but this afternoon, he’ll revert and look through the door for me to come and open it. He drives me crazy with that door.

The white lights on the deck rail died so I had to order some. Meanwhile, at night, Henry would not go out on the dark deck until I turned on the back door light. Seriously, he wouldn’t go out. He’d just stand there looking at me. But as soon as I’d turn on the light, out he’d go. Last night, the new lights were lit so Henry was out the dog door. I had to let him in.

The cleaning schedule for today is vacuuming downstairs. I just saw a dust ball which could wreak havoc on Earth should it get loose.

I did have a few sloth days in a row. I just couldn’t bring myself to do anything. Staying inside was taking its toll. That’s when I forced myself to make lists again. I figured I needed a purpose. Yesterday I had a list of places I needed to go. I finished four out of the five.

The cats have been with me nearly a year. Henry has been with me 2 years. Gwen wanders around up stairs and often comes down a few stairs to meow at me. Every night she waits for my final visit. I pat her, and she is a purring machine. The two cats get treats then I fill the dishes and clean the litter. I noticed I need to vacuum the littered floor again. Walking on it gives me a beach vibe.