Keep the Coffee Comimg

Do you hear that horrible sound, the one giving you shivers? That’s me screaming because it is raining again. The day is grey and dismal. I want sun.

I need to go to the dump. After I changed the cat box yesterday, my trash hit its maximum level. The front and back seats are filled with boxes. The trunk has three or four trash bags and bags of newspapers. I’ve lost count.

My sister told me about a friend of hers whose dog could no longer wag its tail. They brought the dog to the vets where the diagnosis was a sprained tail. It seems the dog is so excited to have its family around all the time it is constantly wagging its tail. Overuse caused the sprain.

My sister in Colorado had snow yesterday. She said it was freezing.

I can’t get myself interested in much for too long. I play games on line, clean a little, nothing taxing, do laundry and water my plants, all mostly busy work. The day crawls from morning until night. I read in bed. Last night I read for nearly two hours. It was around three when I turned out my light. I woke up at nine.

When I was a kid, we lived in the project, on one side of a duplex. My best friend lived up the hill in another duplex, one we had lived in until my sister Sheila was born. My friend and I walked to and from school together until the ninth grade when she went to the local high school while I went to a Catholic high school two towns away. I never minded living in the project. We didn’t have much money, but I didn’t know that. I always figured we had more than enough. My parents were amazing. I always thought myself lucky to have them.

Hot dogs are my go to meal. My sisters make fun of me, but I don’t care. I really like hot dogs. Sometimes I even go crazy with wild abandon and add cheese. I’ve always been fearless.

I woke up and heard the rain. It was heavy for a bit but has since stopped. The sky is a light grey. The wind is strong enough to bend the tallest, thickest pine branches when it blows. Even the tree trunks sway. I can hear the train coming.

I’m watching Godzilla, the third American one I think. The creature looks the same in all of his films: tall with its back lined with armored plates, a throwback from the age of the dinosaurs. This Godzilla saved the world from another creature then took its leave and disappeared into the ocean. I always liked these disappearances. They usually mean a sequel.

Gwen is making her voice heard. Last night she was meowing from the hall upstairs. I thought it was Jack then I noticed he was asleep on the chair. It’s a sign. Gwen is getting bored upstairs.

I stand on the deck every now and then, mostly when Henry is out in the yard. It is unusually quiet. I don’t hear any traffic. I do hear birds.

Last night I went downstairs to get some paper bags. On the way down I noticed what I thought were paper towels still packaged. I decided to move them where I can easily reach them. That’s when I noticed it was toilet paper, three ply, ultra plush. I had found a treasure.

When I was a kid, we would have eaten ourselves out of house and home by now. The cookies would have been long gone, the same with the crackers. We’d be eating peanut butter and jelly for lunch and maybe even dinner. I doubt we would have cared. We’d have eaten anything put in front of us.

I remember the hurricane when the huge tree fell across the road. I was only around seven, but I was never scared. I kept looking out the window to watch everything being blown by the tremendous wind. I felt exhilarated as if I were standing into the wind with my arms spread hoping I could fly. I remember snow storms and blizzards. I wanted lots of snow, feet of snow. I watched the snow fall from the living room window where I could see a streetlight on the sidewalk below my yard. I loved watching the snow under the light of that lamp.

I miss people.

It was cloudy yesterday then it rained all night. It is still cloudy and damp. The wind is strong, and even the thinnest pine branches are swaying. I am so very tired of this weather. I need the sun.

I have been making a daily list of things to do, but every day I do nothing so every morning I tear up the list and toss it then I make another list. That has been happening just about every day. Yesterday, though, I had a surge of energy. I vacuumed the whole house. I watered plants, and I dusted the den, the room where all of us spend most of our time. I used the sleeve of my sweatshirt.

I didn’t fall asleep until close to four. Jack was on my bed snoring fairly loudly. Henry was on his side of the bed and made noises every now and then. I have no clock in my room, but I was reading from my iPad so I kept loose track of the time. I turned off the light at two but tossed and turned enough to drive Jack off the bed. I recognized Morpheus had deserted me so I gave up, turned the light back on and read for another couple of hours. Jack never came back.

When I was a kid, I spend most summer days at the playground on the field at the end of my street. I tossed horseshoes, played tennis and pitched on the softball team which played teams from the other playgrounds around town. We won more than we lost. I did crafts. I wove lanyards and braided bracelets from gimp. I made potholders, and this is where today meets yesterday, proverbial yesterday. A long while back, I bought a potholder kit with the square metal loom and bags of colored loops. Last night I watched videos from YouTube about designing patterns for the potholders. The kit is still here on the table. I found a jigsaw puzzle I haven’t ever made. I opened it and hunted through for all the edges. I got three quarters of the edges together but ran out of table space so I carefully placed the pieces in the top cover until I can make room. I bought a Lego set a few weeks back. I haven’t ever made Legos. I looked through the box and decided to put my Legos away until later. I am running out of diversions. I’m thinking paint by number could be fun.

On my newest list is cleaning my closet. Believe me, that is a last resort.

It is cloudy, the same as it is most days. My weather has become cliché. You’d think Mother Nature would realize we need a sunny day. I want to sit on my deck. I want to feel the warmth of the sun on my body. I want the sun to reinvigorate my soul.

I watched War of the Colossal Beast this morning. It was as bad as I expected so I loved it, but it got it weird at the end when the black and white picture was in color for the last few minutes. The Colossal Man, having regained his memory, realized what he’d become so Glenn aka the Colossal Man decided to grab all the electric wires and electrocute himself. When he grabbed the wires, sparks flew, and his body shook. That’s when it became colorized.

I saw one of the neighborhood kids yesterday, the first I’ve seen. He was riding his bike on the street. He never got close to me. He turned around and went back toward his house.

All the trash is in the car. I’ll go tomorrow.

Yesterday I went out to do an errand. I went to the candy store to pick up Easter candy. I called first, gave her my credit card number and my order. It was curbside pick up. I didn’t even get dressed. I went in my cozies. Life has changed dramatically.

Dunkin’ was open yesterday. I craved a Boston cream donut so I stopped. I also wanted a lemon but there were no lemon. I ordered toasted coconut. None of those either. I ordered the classic jelly. She told me to move to the window. I paid and gave her a tip, and she gave me my coffee and donuts. She said there was a gift. She had given me a half dozen assorted donuts including classic jelly and Boston Cream. I had some in the afternoon, had classic jelly after dinner and had a donut this morning. Henry has shared the largess.

A box of trash bags I ordered from Amazon came today. They were not wrapped. The label with the address was on the front of the box. It was strange for only a minute or two. Not so much is strange anymore.

Last night it poured. I could hear the rain hitting the roof. Henry went out anyway. He doesn’t seem to mind rain.

I never did go to the dump. The rain came. I did do my laundry. One load is still in the dryer. I’ll get it later. All the clothes are parts of my quarantine wardrobe: t-shirts, sweatshirts and flannel pants. None of the dirty clothes were for outside. I washed three sets of sheets. I hated folding them even though I had looked up on YouTube how to fold a fitted sheet. I watched twice. I failed miserably.

When I was a kid, I never noticed my mother cleaning or doing laundry except in the summer when I was home from school. During the rest of the year, she did all the house stuff while I was in school. She didn’t drive until we lived on the cape so she either walked or stayed home. I remember her pushing a carriage uptown. Not driving was common. Most of the neighborhood mothers didn’t drive. My mother eventually learned, and we became a two car family.

My mother had an eclectic collection of silverware and unlatching plates. The only plates which matched were Melmac with sheaves of wheat as decorations. Those plates lasted forever. I have bought a few items which are exactly like ones my mother had. She was with me when I found the tulip nesting bowls. There are three of them. My mother’s held mash potatoes and green beans and appeared every Sunday on the table at dinner. Mine are on the fridge top and are rarely used. I have a pitcher and six glasses of red-ware. My mother had some plates. I bought the pitcher at an antique store and the glasses were a Christmas gift. I don’t know what happened to my mother’s plates.

Both cats are upstairs sleeping. Henry is down here with me and is barking incessantly. When I tell him to stop, he runs from the living room to the den doorway and gives me a look, a sort of incredulous look at my having dared to quiet him down then he goes back to the door and his barking.

I’m going out later. I have to go to the post office. I’m wondering how that will work. I need to buy padded envelopes to send Easter to Colorado. I’m also going to stop at Dunkin’. I’m craving a Boston Cream Donut.

I found out Henry is barking with a purpose. There are trucks on the street in front of my neighbor’s house and one behind his house. I also saw a small front end loader digging a hole in the back. I almost barked. It is the most interesting thing I’ve seen in a couple of weeks.

Spitting rain is what my mother called it, but it doesn’t matter what you call it. The day is dismal regardless. It is warm, in the mid 40’s, but the rain makes the day feel chilly, like spring on Cape Cod. Henry was wet when he came back inside the house. I could see the mist when I got the papers.

I am going to the dump. I called, and it is open for trash only. All the recycle areas are closed. Everything goes into the same bin. I put some boxes in the car earlier and have at least two more trips to the car with more boxes and 2 bags of trash.

I’ve been rearranging. I moved a few things from one room to another and from one table to a different table. I think I’m just doing busy work.

I’ve been going through my cookbooks. I know I can find what I want on line, but I like the pictures and the backstories in the books. I have some yeast so I might try my hand at bread. I have chicken, lots of chicken. I have plenty of ground beef. My larder is full of food but missing treats so maybe I’ll make brownies. Chocolate salves a fretful soul.

HUZZAH!!!! Last night I was passing through the living room, and lo and behold, I saw Gwen sleeping on the throw on the living room chair. That was an amazing moment. Gwen is getting comfortable enough to move around down here although I do wish she’d stop hissing at Henry. I chose not to spook her and just kept walking.

Life has a monotony now. When I could go out, I often didn’t. I waited until I had a list. Now, I just want out for the sake of leaving the house. Henry and the cats see no difference. The cats sleep upstairs a lot while Henry stays here and drives me crazy. He jumps on and off the couch then runs up and down the hall. He goes out then turns around and stares through the door hoping I’ll go let him in. I don’t anymore. He’s got it.

I keep putting everything off until tomorrow so nothing gets done. I feel like Scarlett O’Hara.

Yesterday I filled my new pillow covers and put them on the living room couch. I have two more coming. I’m calling it a redo as in I just redid my living room. I got no mail yesterday. Society is beginning to break down. The loss of catalogs is first.

My new across the street neighbor whom I don’t know well was out spraying his bushes this morning. He was using a small spray bottle. It will take a long time to do front and back.

Henry started his intruder bark, loud and deep. He was right. It was FedEx.

When I was a kid, being housebound would have tired quickly. I figure we’d have been at each other’s throats after only a few days of boredom, of watching the same old TV programs and playing the same old board games. Don’t get me started about Monopoly.

On weekends we’d make our own lunches. I was a bologna fan. I was also an American cheese fan. A few hot peppers from the jar spiced up the boring bologna, but the bread was so porous that the middle, where the peppers were, got soggy and a bit mushy. I didn’t care. I could do mayonnaise or mustard. It didn’t matter. We only had yellow mustard back then, my father’s only mustard. We’d add more like Dijon and horseradish, as we got older. I have several jars of different mustards in my fridge. I always have mustard on my hot dogs with the piccalilli.

I still have a pair of saddle shoes. They are about forty years old. I found them in a cave of a small shoe store. It was in an old building. The store was filled with boxes. They were stored one on top of the other until the piles were close to the ceiling. The salesman, also the owner, was little and old and bent over. He wore pants with a belt and suspenders. When I told him what I wanted, he went over to one pile, counted up and pulled a box. In that box were my saddle shoes. They fit perfectly. I’ve only worn them a couple of times. I think I’ll wear them today. I designate today as a dress up day. Wear something unusual, something you seldom wear. Make a statement.

Mother Nature has provided us with a beautiful day, in the low 50’s with sun, although a transient sun, and periodic clouds. I’m thinking of placing an order at the hardware store to be collected. That will get me out if even for a short time. I need a new laundry basket, a bin for snowmen storage and AA batteries. That sounds like a shopping list to me.

A woman on TV bemoaned the lack of choices left on the shelves in the pasta aisle. I bet she never flicked a bug from her dinner. I was good at it. Distance in the air is a skill honed over time.

Jack is feeling the pressure. Last night he sat on the table here in the den and maliciously pushed off the pile of note paper I keep on the corner in case I need to write down something I don’t want to forget. After he knocked it off, he just down.

This morning I had to open the cream. It had one of those plastic pull tabs under the screw top. To pull it off, that tab took all the strength of one of my fingers. I was thinking a knife or scissors next.

I read the Globe first, start to finish and even do the crossword puzzle. I get a second cup of coffee, and then, depending on the time, I either read the Cape Times or begin writing. Today is earlier than of late.

In the paper was a picture of five men standing side by side. The main man was described as third from the left. Why didn’t they just say second from the right?

FedEx delivered a couple of boxes. When I went to pull them inside, off the front steps, I could smell the motor of the truck. It reminded me of the smell of the jet engines when you’re walking on the jetways at the airport. I love that smell at the airport. It means I’m off, on my way to somewhere.

Yesterday afternoon I decided to live vicariously. I figured I should check to see what I have for Easter for my grands, my sisters and my friends. I knew chocolate was involved. The grands are all set. My sisters are all set. My friends are not even close. When I reached in to empty the bag from the candy store, I found a package of two chocolate covered Oreos. Mine! Mine! They really were mine. I had bought them for myself when I bought the chocolate rabbits and such. I had forgotten. They were exactly what I needed. Now, on to my list.

I love dusk when it is just starting to get dark. I turn my den light on and it lights half the room. The other half is in shadow on the edges.

Someone put a surgical mask on the statue of Paul Revere in the North End. It must have been a climb as Paul is on his horse. Mrs. Mallard followed by her Mallard family, her eight chicks, is in the Boston Garden. She is now wearing a mask. The ducklings are not.

I still have the same things to do I had yesterday.

From my yard, I can sometimes hear the traffic from the Mid-Cape. It sounds like the wind. This morning it was the wind.

Today is overcast. Notice the change of adjectives. Variety is the spice of life. Yes, I did write that. It came from my fingers unbidden. All this lack of human contact now has me talking in cliches.

Yesterday in the paper I noticed you can contact a sommelier who will choose your wine pairings for your dinner then send them to you.

I didn’t know you could still buy corned beef in a can with a key. Well, you can (UGH!!). It is made by Libby’s. My friend Peg and I were talking about buying it in Ghana but not often. It was expensive. I had to go very slowly using that metal key or the metal would break off. I learned to put more metal in the hole of the key at the start of it. My father’s can of Spam always had a key. I cut myself a few times on sharp covers. I bought some Spam before Christmas. I gave my sister some in her stocking and bought some for myself. I bought Hot and Spicy Spam, Spam Chorizo and Spam Tocino, a limited edition Filipino flavor. I just thought there was Spam, plain old ordinary Spam. It is perfect for every cupboard. I found out an unopened tin of Spam can last in the pantry for between two and five years. Once the tin is opened, it will last in the refrigerator for seven to ten days. How serendipitous of me to buy it.

Peg and I talked about dawadawa, a Ghanaian condiment. I love the name of it. Dawadawa is melodious, and you get to say it twice. Kelewele is another. Banku has a British English sound with the opening Ban but ku may be more Ghanaian. It is a forceful word, but it’s only a dough or a paste which comes in a plastic wrap. You eat it with soup. I never liked it. Maybe it is the consistency.

I think I have eaten the equivalent of a hot dog in just about every country I’ve visited. Most of the time I bought the food from stands along the sides of the roads. Sometimes chopped meat was wrapped around a stick and cooked over coals. I felt like like a cartoon character who nose pulled the character along to the fire and the food. I always bought a stick or two. My nose has not been wrong.

MSNBC was talking to maybe a senator or maybe a rep, I don’t remember, but I do remember the line he used to answer a question. He said there was, “No magic fairy dust.” I know the reference. At what age does it have no meaning beyond the words?

I got a few packages yesterday. I haven’t opened them yet. I thought I’d heighten the surprise for myself. I know the where, but I don’t remember the what, and I’m not looking. I’ll open the boxes when I finish here. It will be a fun afternoon, one different than the other afternoons so far.

Alexa tells me today will be cloudy. I knew that. I looked out the window. It is currently 44˚. Last night it rained. The air is still. I woke up late though I went to bed early for me, 12:30. Doing nothing is exhausting.

All nonessential businesses in Massachusetts are closed. Grocery stores, of course, are still open for pick-up and delivery. Liquor stores are still open. They are considered grocery stores. Only medicinal marijuana is being sold, not recreational. Probably a mistake.

I am a lazy sort. I used to need excuses as to why I didn’t vacuum or make the bed. Not any more. I choose the dust. I choose the unruly bed and the pile of dirty clothes. I choose my books.

Two of my dafs are in full bloom and four more are very close. Their yellow is so bright in the garden I stopped for a bit this morning on my way back inside with the papers hoping to inhale that color, to keep it close in my memory drawers.

When I do crossword puzzles, I am taken aback sometimes with the clues in the difficult puzzles. Those clues are my childhood. I have answered hula hoops, Howdy Doody, Mickey Mouse Club and The Beatles. Who, I stridently asked aloud, doesn’t know The Beatles. Henry didn’t even stir. He is used to my outbursts.

Today Nancy Pelosi said about something being Pollyannaerish, her word, not mine. I thought about the film Pollyanna, the reference I have for this word. I remembered Haley Mills, Jane Wyman, the orphans and prisms. I wondered at what age Pollyanna becomes simply a name, not a definition. I know what Nancy Pelosi is saying. I saw the movie.

I have lights on. They are comforting on days like today. I’m watching old movies, happy endings mostly. I even watched a Hallmark Christmas movie. I have no shame.

I watch news shows with correspondents broadcasting from home. I like to check out what I can see of their rooms. One MSNBC correspondent was in a room covered with palm frond wallpaper, or I think it was wallpaper. It could have been painted. Either way it isn’t my taste. I like the Jimmy’s: Fallon and Kimmel. They have short films from their houses. Jimmy Fallon has a neat slide from one room down to another. I liked his rooms. I liked Formal Friday which had been touted by Jimmy Kimmel. At his house, all the Kimmels are just fine, dressed fit for a fancy restaurant. I liked that too.

As for me, I’m hanging in. I have lots of stuff to keep me busy.