Today is warm, 71˚. It is a dark, cloudy day, but we aren’t expecting rain. I have a few house things to do like the ever present laundry, and I need to repot a few new plants I bought yesterday, but that’s it for my to do list so the rest of my day can be devoted to lolling about watching cheesy movies on YouTube.

Henry has his Halloween costume, but I’ll have trouble getting it on him as he won’t even let me attach the leash to his collar. Despite that I’m thinking this costume will be well worth the effort.  My hope is I can at least one picture of him. His costume is the height of irony. Henry will be a squirrel, a spawn of Satan.

I bought a new fascinator for Halloween. It is all black, has a veil in the front and a black spider across the top. It makes me wish I had a black dress like Morticia Adams always wore.

When I was a kid, I had an old black and white television set in my room. I’d lie in bed and watch. I liked movies most of all. This time of year the old monster movies would be on. I think Dracula scared me the most. That the count wore all black added to the fright as did his gleaming eyes and that cape. Frankenstein’s monster wasn’t all that scary to me. I sort of felt bad for him especially when all the villagers were hunting him. What I remember most about the mummy is the horror of him being wrapped then buried alive, and when the mummy was awakened, his obsession with his princess though I didn’t know the word for it back then. I just knew nothing would stop him from getting to her.

Those old movies never had all the blood, all the gore, that movies have now. They relied on mood, shadows and the imagination to scare us. I still like watching those movies. They are a part of my Halloween.

The house was cold this morning. I put on a sweatshirt and turned on the heat until the house felt warm. When I went to get the papers, I found outside warmer than inside.

The day is lovely. Bright sunlight is glinting through the leaves on the trees in the backyard. Everything is still. Bird songs are the only sounds. It is the perfect fall day.

The tourists are back for the long weekend and the good weather. Yesterday I had to use back roads because the main road was clogged with lines of cars waiting at the lights. The parking lot at Cuffy’s was filled with buses filled with people buying Cape Cod t-shirts with sharks on the front I’m guessing.

When I was a kid, today would have been the perfect day to explore, to ride my bike all over town. I had favorite places like Weiss dairy farm. I remember watching the black and white cows walk from the barn to the field. Their path was mud with grass on each side of the path. The barn was white and had a conveyer belt to the loft. It sometimes had bales of hay on it. I thought it was neat to live in a town with a farm.

A field where a couple of horses grazed was a short bike ride away. The house was in the far back of the field. I remember it was red and looked like a block, a square. I used to grab some grass and stand by the fence hoping to entice the horses to eat. My big dream was to ride one. It is a good thing I never did. Who knows what I would have broken falling off.

I used to bike the trail pass the swamp as it was a shortcut to the road leading to the next town and its lake. I didn’t stop at the swamp. It wasn’t all that interesting this time of year. The tadpoles were now frogs and had moved on. The flitting bugs we called knitting needles were also gone, driven away by the chilly nights. We would return to the swamp when it was ice, and we could skate on it.

We’d bike to the lake and ride around it. I remember the Indian Trading Post at one end of the lake. It had two teepees, one on each side of the building. It was neat place to visit. The trading post had beautiful handmade feathered Indian bonnets, beaded clothes and stuff like arrowheads which had been found locally. My father bought his headdress there when he became sachem of the Red Men.

All my favorite places are pretty much gone now. The farm has no cows. It sells mulch. The field with the horses is now streets with rows of houses. The swamp is long gone, replaced by apartments for the elderly. The Indian Trading Post was torn down. I, however, still have vivid memories of all those places. They helped give me the best childhood and the most wonderful places to ride my bike.

Today is one of those weird weather days. When I woke up, I looked outside the bedroom window and saw a dark day, a cloudy day. A few minutes later I dragged myself out of bed, and this time it was sunny outside. That’s the way it’s been.

The wind is strong. All the branches are turning and twisting. The day is cool because of that wind.

A dump run is on my to-do list. I also need a few groceries. Other than those errands, my dance card is totally empty for the next week. I’m going to stop at the library. Books can fill that empty dance card.

I tried to put a leash on Henry this morning. He ran outside and stayed there looking through the dog door. When he finally came back inside, he avoided me. He jumped on the couch, and when I tried to pat him, he jumped off the couch. He did that a few times but is now settled on the couch away from me. He is leery.

When I was a kid, I felt protected by Duke, our boxer. Duke would stand at the front door and watch the street in front of our house. We knew when anyone walked by as Duke would bare his teeth, growl deep in his throat then bark and jump on the storm door. People usually walked fast pass our house.

We’re getting into soup weather. My favorite is chicken noodle though I would never turn down tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. My mother used to make pea soup with the Sunday dinner ham bone. She always froze some to give to me.

I bought some tapioca to make pudding. My mother used to make the best tapioca pudding. My father loved it, and it was his second favorite, behind chocolate pudding. When my parents came to visit, I always made my father a chocolate pie. He never shared.

Sort of summer has returned. The morning is warm. I stayed outside a while taking in the sun after I picked up the papers. Tall white flowers are still blooming in the small garden in front of the house. I always stop and admire them knowing that the season of flowers is almost gone.

The birds, especially the chickadees, are in and out of the feeders hanging above the deck. Already I need to refill a couple of those smaller feeders and put out the suet. I got 24 free blocks of suet when I bought the new feeders.

The only trees with leaves are the oak trees in the backyard. They turn red. The rest of the trees are pine. They drop needles all over the front lawn, so many needles some of the lawn disappears. The guys will rake three or four times.

The first time I ever lived alone was in Ghana. It was quite a change from being with over 100 other people during the weeks of training. I remember one day in week seven I went to the dorm room where all of us women stayed. I said I’d had it, and I was packing to go home. The other women chimed in they were leaving too. That made us laugh. We were all fine again.

When I moved into my house on school grounds, I was alone with no one to talk to about my homesickness. I wrote letters never to be mailed. They were filled with the feelings I was struggling to get through. I even gave myself until Christmas for things to change or I’d go home. They did change, and I got used to being alone. I filled my time with reading, preparing lessons and writing letters describing my days; what had become commonplace for me was new and exciting for my family and friends. I had to keep reminding myself of that. I was in Africa after all.

Some time during the early morning it rained. The streets are still a bit wet along the sides. The day is damp and it’s dark. I’m staying home today.

When I was a kid, I walked to school, even on a rainy day. I didn’t have rain boots, but I did have a raincoat. I didn’t wear a hat. I always got wet. The cloakroom outside my classroom smelled of wet. In winter it was wet wool. On a rainy day, boots were on the floor under the coat hooks. The floor stayed wet all day.

When I’d get home from school. I’d be wet again. In winter my shoes went under the radiator. My uniform got hung up to dry. I’d put on my pajamas and slippers even though it was late afternoon. They made me feel warm and cozy.

Spitting rain is just an annoyance. I want heavy rain beating the roof and windows. I want to be surrounded by the sound of rain.

I loved the rainy season in Ghana. The first rains were tremendous. They pounded the tin roofs of my house and the classroom block where I taught. The sound was so loud I couldn’t teach. I couldn’t be heard. Each time I’ve returned to Ghana, it has been during the tail end of the rainy season. The storms even then are still tremendous. On my first time back, I was on my way to the market when the heavy rain started. I stood under an overhang outside a shop. The woman in the shop saw me and invited me inside where it was dry. I sat on the chair she offered. I think her customers were wondering what the white woman was during sitting in the shop. During my last visit, my friends and I sat in the dining room at Zaina Lodge. The room was open on three sides. We could see the sheet of rain making its way toward us. When the rain reached us, it poured heavy drops which fell straight down. We watched until the storm ended. We stayed dry. At our hotel in Bolga, we sat in the restaurant under the thatch roof above the table and chairs. The rain surrounded us. I loved it.

The sun was out this morning but has since disappeared. The paper said intermittent clouds with a high in the low 70’s. I’ll take the clouds and be happy with the warmth.

Yesterday I found a nest on the dining room floor. Not so odd as I have a few nests I’ve found and put on a shelf in the dining room to display. All of a sudden a bird flew by me and landed on the mantle. The nest on the floor made even more sense then. I opened the storm door and thought I saw the bird fly out, but Henry went upstairs so I wasn’t sure about the bird. It never reappeared so it did go out the door. My floor in the kitchen is filled with paw prints from Henry and the last rain. Yesterday I started washing the floor. I found some bird poop.

Henry lies down when I tell I’m to sit. He does it every time. I have no idea how that confusion started. I’ve decided to teach him to sit when I say lie down.

The birds are back to the feeders. It didn’t taken long. Most are chickadees. Two of the feeders are hidden by the table umbrella. I’m going to move it. I do like looking out the window and watching the birds.

I couldn’t wait. I made a jaunt to the deck a while ago to move the table. It took far more time than I expected. A feeder was hanging too low because the branch it was on had broken. I tried to move the feeder to  another branch, but that branch was too high to reach even for my longest hook holder. For a fleeting second I thought of moving a small, sturdy table and standing on it to reach the branch but then common sense and past history overrode the stand on the table idea. I did hang that feeder but not where I wanted. I need a tall person or someone not afraid to climb. I’m neither.

The morning is a delight. The air smells fresh and fragrant. The sun is shining. It is warmer than I expected and hints of a warmer afternoon. When I got the paper, I stood outside leaning on the car for a while. I didn’t want to go back inside. I greeted some joggers and waved to my neighbor driving by me. A beautiful butterfly was on the front step flowers, the red flowers. I watched a while then went in and got my camera. The butterfly was gone when I got outside, but it returned, and I took a few pictures.

My friends left yesterday, and without them the house was too quiet last night. I miss them, their companionship, the conversations and the laughs. Bill made my breakfast, scrambled eggs with cheese and bacon, and Peg toasted the cinnamon raisin bread. I felt like the lady of the manor. Peg brought down tons of food including Thursday night’s dinner and some desserts. I munched on leftovers last night and had brownies with chocolate sauce for dessert. Thank you, Peg!

When I was a kid, on fall Sundays, we stayed home, no more beach trips. My father ushered at church. He got to pass the basket. I remember the baskets were woven and their handles were really long so they could reach to the middle of the pews. My father did the main aisle first then the other half of the pews on the side aisle. I always sat so I could smile at him as he passed the basket in front of me. I’d drop in the dime he always gave me.

My little library has another hole from the woodpecker. I’m going to cover it inside and out with gorilla tape. Next to that hole is several not quite holes. I don’t know what the attraction is to the birds. I guess they see it as an upgrade, a wonderful birdhouse with a window.

Henry still runs away when he sees a leash. I’m going to attach one to his collar and have him wear it just to get use to the feeling of the leash. That and riding in the car are my two major Henry projects.

Today is an around the house day. I have a few random chores like water the plants, change the flag outside to a fall flag and fill the bird feeders. I’m going to lower the deck umbrellas, sort of a step one in closing the deck. I’m thinking it’s a perfect day to sit outside and have a fire in my chiminea. I love the smell of wood burning.

My house is quiet. My friends have just left to drive home to New Hampshire. Their visit was great fun. We seem to fit together perfectly no matter how long between visits. Last night’s dinner was a success. Everyone had two helpings of the chili. The blueberry appetizer, also a new recipe, was wonderful with the taste of the sour cream, the cheese and the blueberries which popped while baking. Henry barked a lot at my company. If they got up at night, Henry barked as if we had an intruder. He also growled deep in his throat. My friends, especially Bill, patted Henry who was willing to sit still for the affection. Henry and I are both sorry to see them go.

Today is a perfect fall day. The air smells fresh. The sun is so bright after the dark days. It is 67˚ and may even reach the low 70’s. Maddie and Henry are having their naps. Each is in a favorite spot

My dance card is empty until Thursday. I do need to go to the library as I have been spending a lot of time with books lately and need more. I hate to be without a book.

When I was a kid, I used to use my fifty cents allowance to buy a 49 cent book. The Children’s Corner, a clothing store uptown, had a bookcase in the back. It was filled with Whitman books, many of which were for girls. The main female characters were smart, curious and tenacious. I loved Trixie Belden. She lived in the best sounding place, Sleepyside-on-Hudson. She had three brothers and didn’t like math which she and I had  in common. Trixie and her best friend Honey solved mysteries. I think I read every book in the series. Some I bought and some I got for Christmas. My copies of Heidi, Treasure Island and Little Women were Whitman books. I still have Heidi. Its heavy cardboard cover is worn and frayed. The pages have yellowed. I remember reading it and feeling sorry for Heidi when she was taken from her Grandfather and the Alps and Peter, the goat herder. I wanted a happy ending. I got it.

The rains started during the night, and it is still heavily raining. The lights are on as it is so dark here in the house. Henry went out and came back in soaked. I tried to towel him off, but he would have nothing to do with it. My friends are visiting. We first met in Philadelphia for what is called Peace Corps staging, the time before any groups leave for in country. During that time before Ghana, we got shots, met with a psychologist, had our teeth checked and attended lectures and slide shows about Ghana. The lectures were boring so Bill, Peg and I decided to check out the historical sites and the art museum. Nobody noticed we were missing. We had no guilt.

We went for a ride down cape yesterday. That means we drove toward P-Town. Up cape means towards the bridge. We never talk of directions here. East and west mean nothing. We went down cape to Wellfleet center. It is a delightful collection of small shops in really old buildings. There are no chain stores, not even a chain grocery market. We left the center and took a road I’ve never been on. It had a yellow line so I figured it had to go somewhere. Most of the sides of the road were desolate and lined with the tall trunks of dead trees. There were no houses. It wasn’t until toward the end of the road that we saw mailboxes. The houses were off the road and difficult to see. The road ended at the Mid-Cape, Route 6 to those of you unfamiliar with local lingo.

Peg brought last night’s dinner and dessert including my favorite, lemon meringue pie. The chicken was delicious, but the highlight was kelewele, my favorite Ghanaian dish. The rest of dinner was rice and green beans. I filled my plate, and it was totally empty except for the chicken bone when I’d finished. Tonight is my turn for dinner, and we’re having chili with butternut squash. I hope it is as good as dinner last night!

It’s time to finish and have a piece of pie for lunch.