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Today is an ugly day, a raw, cold, cloudy day. I’m glad I’m stuck inside the house. We all have food. Agway delivered today.

When I walk across the room, tumbleweeds blow left and right of my feet. I’m thinking cowboy boots and spurs, part of a metaphor of sorts, but I’d be wrong. There are no tumbleweeds, just clumps of fur, a combination of black and white fur so the clumps look grey. I really need to vacuum though I prefer the boots and spurs.

Henry comes in the dog door if he feels like it. If not, he stands outside the door looking in. Either I hide in the den hoping he’ll come in on his own or I go get him in, drawn by the sad face and the paw hitting the door every couple of minutes.

Kids are drawing outside on driveways using chalk. One had a giant, grinning sun with rays all around it. The message underneath said Smile. Kids are answering each other.

The governor has issued a stay at home advisory effective tomorrow which also closes stores except those offering necessary services like grocery stores, medical facilities, gas stations and pharmacies. Only essential people should be out and about. I am glad for all these businesses who have taken to delivering. I have what I need because of them.

I sometimes don’t see or talk to anyone for a few days or even longer. I don’t think it odd. The first time I ever lived alone was in Ghana. I was so very homesick, but I kept this to myself, not comfortable yet with close-by volunteers. I worked through it. It took a couple of months or even a bit more, but I started to love teaching and being in Ghana. I embraced the experience. I liked the alone time, and I liked being part of the community. If I had been with another volunteer that first year, we would have been together speaking English and keeping home.

I have lived alone here for close to 45 years. I don’t mind. I get to pick any TV station I want, anything I want for dinner, sensible or not, and how little or how much I do. I talk to my family. I like my days. They haven’t really changed. I’m doing just fine. I just need chocolate or hard Peeps.

I was a bit shocked when I went to get the papers. It is far colder than I expected, 37˚, and I gasped when I got outside. The day is sunny for a change so I was duped by good old Mother Nature in thinking warmth. I’m glad I’m in my warm house though it almost wasn’t warm. It has been a weird morning. I slept late and missed my 11 o’clock call to my sister. We did connect a little later. She has snow. My thermostat was stuck on some unknown number. I took off the cover and noticed batteries. I didn’t even know it had batteries. I found a couple of new ones and replaced the old. My house is getting warmer.

Yesterday I ate my piece of chocolate cake. I also ate a Payday. It was a salty-sweet test with no real results. I liked both of them equally though the Payday was an unexpected surprise. I can’t remember the last time I had one. The salted peanuts were the first bite. The caramel was next. Every bite was delicious. I finished it, but I had one more for later. My new mantra is treat yourself well.

I am suffering the loss of baseball. It is a sport I enjoy watching and the sport I know the most about, rules and plays and such. Right now I am watching ES2, the Brat Eating Contest from 2006, a new sport for me.

I remember getting the measles when I was a kid and having to lie in bed in a dark room, no lights, shades down. It was torture. I couldn’t read. I couldn’t watch television. My mother knew about measles and eyes. She was part of the mothers’ medical network. This time she was right, unlike the don’t go going swimming after eating or you’ll die of cramps rule.

My daffodils have flowered in the front garden. They are so bright, so yellow. I have different colored tulips from the florist. I ordered them with the groceries. Food for the body. Flowers for the senses.

Today is a cloudy but bright day. Maybe the sun will appear (ASIDE: the sun has started to break through). It’s a little chillier than yesterday and the last few days. I stood out on the deck for a bit this morning watching Henry in the yard. He always runs down the steps and across the gated driveway to a tree with a good size trunk. That’s where he lifts his leg and has been lifting his leg for the almost two years he’s been mine. Poor tree! Strong tree!

I have been watching Star Trek movies. Right now it is the Chris Pine, Zachary Quinto film on the origins of the first TV Enterprise crew. I’ve seen it before, but that doesn’t matter. I like this movie

When I brush my teeth and lean close to the sink, I can smell pine. It is the most wonderful aroma and comes from the candle by the sink: Bedrock Tree Farm Soy Candle with freshly harvested fir needles you can see on the top of the candle. They’re covered with a single layer of wax so they look green all the time. It’s like a Christmas memory.

Jack keeps meowing and he is driving me crazy. I tried being pleasant, but he still meowed. I got firmer. He meowed. I yelled. He meowed. I moved to another room. He followed me, meowing the whole time. I gave him treats. He stopped meowing.

Before I decided to stay mostly inside, I have always stayed mostly inside. I’d go out a couple of days a week for dump runs, any sort of appointments and a grocery stop. Now I have groceries delivered and all appointments are cancelled. I can wait a week before I need a dump run. I’m okay mostly, but every now and then I’d like a connection, a call. Any conversations I have with Henry are very one-sided.

My vacuum is waiting. I brought it down from upstairs. I’m almost at the I must vacuum point but not quite yet. It can wait.

Take care of yourselves!

The dafs in the front garden are almost ready to bud. Finally there is some color in this drab world still dressed for winter. The clouds haven’t left. Rain is predicted. There is a bit of a breeze, but it is warm, 50˚. There was fog this morning.

I’m going nowhere. I have sent orders for delivery to Agway, animal provisions, and to Ring, my provisions. Each place has e-mailed an acknowledgement of its order but doesn’t know when it will be filled. Henry is down to two cans of dog food. He has plenty of treats so he’ll be a happy boy. I have ordered treats for me so I’ll be a happy girl: a slice of the bakery’s chocolate three layer cake, 3 Payday bars, baby back ribs, a Danish and some flowers to brighten the house. I just got a call from Ring double checking my order. I’ll have it this afternoon.

My cleaning couple didn’t come. Lee called to say they are self-quarantining themselves. They have no symptoms, but they have been in a few different houses so they don’t know. They didn’t want to come here because they didn’t want to take a chance infecting me if they have it. I think Lee said something about my age; he was courteous of course. My house is dusty, animal hair dusty. I may clean.

I was in Ghana during its first cholera epidemic in 1970. I was returning to Ghana from out of country and entered at Kotoka International Airport. The passport part was easy, not so health. The inspector said we couldn’t enter as we hadn’t had cholera shots. We didn’t know about the cholera. We begged to be allowed in because we lived in Ghana. We promised the inspector we’d go right to Peace Corps from the airport and get our shots. He let us in. We went right to the Peace Corps office, and we got our shots.

Yesterday went quickly. I changed my bed and threw the laundry down the cellar stairs. I read most of the afternoon and the evening though I did have TV on later to watch a movie. I counted it as a day well spent.

Welcome spring!

We didn’t go to the beach to welcome the sunrise. We got the days wrong, but it is raining so we wouldn’t have seen the sun anyway. The wind is really strong, strong enough to have a voice. It is a good day to be home.

Henry has discovered that the dog door works two ways, not just out but also in. It has only taken him almost two years to figure that out.

I don’t go out every day. Some days I don’t even get dressed. I can’t remember the last time I wore other than my cozies in the house and my comfy casuals outside the house. I don’t need to be busy. I can sit all day and read. I like an afternoon nap. I thumb through catalogs and magazines. The time passes without me noticing. When the dog gets pushy, I know it’s his dinner time. That’s when I realize the day is passing into night.

Gwen now meows from the stairs. She doesn’t come down, but I think she’ll soon be joining Jack, Henry and me. She follows me into my room purring the whole time. I think she knows she is home.

I can see cars in my neighbors’ driveways. They are not at work.

I could use a few things from the grocery store. I was going to get up and go to the elderly only shopping hours, but I chose to sleep in. My friend said the line into the store was snaking outside and not all the people waiting were older (okay, old). I have a list. Maybe tomorrow, early, I’ll shop at one of the smaller grocery stores. I want to make sure I’m provisioned enough for an extended stay in the house. I’m going to call Agway and order dog and cat food. They are delivering. Stores and restaurants are doing all that they can to help knowing we need each other.

The world has become an unfamiliar place, a scary place.

Today is rainy and gloomy. The temperature is 42˚. It is a quiet St. Patrick’s Day. All the pubs and bars are closed. Massachusetts is shut down: schools and businesses are closed, and nearly all gatherings canceled. I figure this is the time to celebrate with friends.

When I was in St. Patrick’s Shamrocks drill team, we marched in the South Boston St. Patrick’s Day parade, cancelled this year. Along the parade route, drunken men would march beside us chit-chatting and offering us sips of beer. We were told to ignore them. As if we could. They’d leave us after we had moved on, beyond their local bar. After a couple of years, we no longer marched in South Boston.

My mother sometimes had a St. Patrick’s Day party. I always drove up to my parents’ house for the event. She gave great parties. I remember my father and my uncle Jack singing Irish songs in the kitchen and all of us joining in with them. The kitchen was filled with people. The windows steamed, and the cigarette smoke had us opening the back door. The parties always lasted into the wee mornings. I miss those times.

On my dog Shauna’s first St. Patrick’s Day, my father gave her a plate of corned beef and cabbage because she was Irish. My father loved his corned beef and cabbage. I know I’ve told this story before, but I always remember on St. Patrick’s Day. My mother had cooked the traditional dinner and was putting my father’s dinner on his plate. She couldn’t find the potatoes. She looked under the meat, no potatoes. She looked through the whole pot, no potatoes. She dished out my dad’s dinner and brought it to him. “Where are the potatoes?” was his first comment.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!!

The day is cold but sunny. It is only 31˚. The breeze is strong enough to stir the branches. The sky is again jawdroppingly beautiful.

My groceries were delivered earlier, but what was delivered was far less than I ordered. The store has no toilet paper, no milk, no Table Talk little pies except cherry which I don’t like, no paper towels, lots of sold out cat food, no bread though it is probably just the one I wanted, and my favorite, no Peeps. Seriously, who runs out of Peeps?

I don’t get cabin fever. My house has plenty of stuff to keep me busy and happy. I have books, most of them on my iPad. I have the pot holder kit, an intro to Legos set, a million movie channels and my uke. How could I ever get bored?

Henry came back inside using the dog door three times yesterday. I was shocked the first time to see his tail high in the air as he walked through the kitchen. This morning, I had him go outside so the grocery delivery woman wouldn’t get scared. Usually he stands outside the back door looking through and whacks the door cover over and over to express his impatience. He didn’t do that this time. He came inside on his own while she was still here.

Massachusetts is closed. Governor Charlie Baker ordered all schools to close for a minimum of three weeks beginning tomorrow and has limited all bars and restaurants to takeout and delivery also as of tomorrow. Public gatherings are limited to 25. This applies to about anywhere you might want to go: all community, civic, public, leisure, faith-based events, as well as sporting events with spectators, concerts, and conventions. It also covers fitness centers, private clubs and theaters. I think that limits me to my kitchen and den.

My local school district will be handing out breakfast and lunch to anybody who lives in the district. You don’t even have to get out of your car. People rise to the occasion, people helping people.

This virus is not a democratic hoax.

I will never tire of beautiful days like today, a day with a cloudless blue sky, still air and a temperature of 42˚, a winter chill.

Stores are open even though the cape has had its first case of the virus, in Sandwich. Schools are closed either one or two weeks as a precaution and for deep cleaning. Events, meetings and most town programs are cancelled. Several libraries are closed. I can survive for two weeks on what is in my freezer, but I need cream, a second loaf of bread just in case, cat food and anything chocolate.

Yesterday I wandered. I took a ride with a couple of stops. The route was a circle from my home in South Dennis down Bass River Road to 6A. From there, my ride was all the way on 6A to Station Ave and South Yarmouth. From four corners in South Yarmouth, finally I turned on to 28 then drove a bit to 134, not so far from home. I did stop twice. The first was at the pasta and cheese shop. I bought frozen four cheese ravioli. I have a great recipe for lasagna using the frozen ravioli. I also bought just made pea soup and some Girl Scout cookies. The pea soup reminded me of my mother. She always made it when she had a ham bone. My father, my sister and I love pea soup. My mother always froze some for me. My other stop was Nancy’s Candies in Dennis. I bought my Easter treats for the Colorado bunch and for my friends, and I bought anise bears and two chocolate covered Oreos for me. When I got home, I changed into my cozies. I had the soup for dinner. It was amazingly delicious. Now I think I need to go back and buy more.

I need more cat food. I got an e-mail from my on-line pet store that the package due today will be as many as four or five days late. I guess I’m stuck. I’ll get dressed and go shopping and grumble all the while.

Today is lovely. We have a deep blue sky with nary a cloud in sight. The sun is brilliant but not so warm. It is only 47˚ but is supposed to get warmer, to the low 50’s. I have barely been outside this whole week so I think I’ll take a jaunt today.

The daffodil buds are ever bigger, and I now have three blooming purple croci in the small garden. I also noticed the first green shoots of the day lilies along the edge of the trees on the front side of the yard. This is so early for all of these.

When I was a kid, my father took my brother and me to the Roy Rogers rodeo at the old Boston Garden. We had front row seats. I remember Roy riding by us, and Pat Grady and Nelly Bell almost close enough to touch.

My brother and I went around the neighborhood collecting for Jerry Lewis’ kids, for the MDA. The telethon went back and forth from Jerry to Channel 5, my local channel. We begged my father to take us to Boston where we could give our money to real life celebrities: Miss Kitty Russell and Doc Adams aka Amanda Blake and Milburn Stone. I gave my money to Miss Kitty.

During the summer of the Watergate hearings, my sister, my cousin and I went to Washington. We were standing in a long line hoping to get in when Dick Cavett went by us. Then Hubert Humphrey walked toward us. I grabbed my book, The Foundation Trilogy, and had him sign it. I still have that book in my upstairs bookcase.

On Newbury Street Barry Manilow with a burly man on each side of him, his protection, walked by me. I said to my friend, That’s Barry Manilow.” Neither one of us was impressed. All I remember are those burly men and how short Barry Manilow is.

My last serendipitous celebrity sighting was Big Brother Bob Emery. I know I’ve mentioned this before but I still can’t get rid of the image tucked inside my memory drawer. We were all standing in the bandstand at Wakefield Lower Common. Big Brother Bob was in the middle of us. I was right behind him. All I remember is there was a bug walking across his neck. I watched.

The morning is dreadful. The sky is grey, the wind is blowing, and it has just started raining. The one saving grace is it’s warm, or at least warmer than I expected.

I am elated. My front garden has eight daffodil buds. They seemed to have popped up in the last couple of days. My kitchen Christmas cactus isn’t a Christmas cactus. It is an Easter cactus flowering right now. It has ten red flowers. Beautiful flowers. Spring is so very close.

When I was a kid, rainy days were my least favorite. Whether a deluge or a spitting rain, I walked to and from school. We didn’t have recess. That meant the second half of the school day lasted forever. No one paid attention to the lessons. We watched the rain hit the windows, and we watched the hands of the big clock barely inch toward the end of the day.

Jack and Henry are having their morning naps. Henry is on the couch and Jack is stretched across the table. He was asleep on my paper when I came back from the kitchen. I pulled it out from under him. He meowed at me. It was a sort how dare you meow, a reminder of how cats always feel entitled.

Some days only certain foods will do. Last week, I wanted Chinese food. Before that, it was Thai. I wanted pizza this week. I ordered it with hamburger and onions. The hamburger was more for Jack and Henry than for me. I like the food delivered. It isn’t all that cheap, but it is just so convenient. The only weird thing is there are no Mexican restaurants offering the service. That’s makes me want fajitas and enchiladas.

The food I most crave is jollof rice. On my last trip to Ghana, I think I ate it every day in Bolga. The rice was piled high on the plate and took up most of the room. Usually chicken was my meat of choice with Guinea fowl close behind, but they were B-movie actors compared to the rice. I never left any rice on my plate. I ate every grain, careful not to bite down on a rock.