Keep the Coffee Comimg

This morning has been a busy one already. That’s what I get for waking up earlier than usual. I got dressed and hurried to the post office to mail my Valentine’s cards and candy. The post office wasn’t open yet so I decided to get coffee, but the line of cars at the Dunkin’ drive up window was so long I gave up and went back to the post office where I parked in the lot. I figured I’d pass the time by reading my papers, but I couldn’t. I hadn’t put on my glasses. After 15 minutes or so, I finally got inside the post office. I first addressed the padded envelopes then got in line. I was number 8. When I left, the line behind me was even longer.

Today is cold, 28˚, but at least the day is sunny with a mostly blue sky. Henry loves the cold and is outside a long time, several times during the day. His fur is always cold as are his ears.

Today is laundry day. I can procrastinate no longer. My mother would say it was growing legs.

I haven’t a to do list, laundry maybe but nothing else. I am free to do whatever I want. Despite evidence to the contrary, I am not fond of to do lists. They make me feel obligated, but I’m slowly getting passed that. I used to cross each completed item off with a bit of a celebration, a clap maybe or hands in the air, but now I am just as happy to do nothing.

When I was in Ghana, I had a routine. I taught 20 hours a week. When I was the tutor on duty for the week (once every couple of months or so), I had to check the dorms to make sure the students had cleaned them and made their beds, wander the cafeteria during breakfast, break, lunch and dinner to make sure students were using forks, not their fingers. I never understood that one. It was contrary to the culture. Ghanaians always eat with their right hand. I had to patrol during evening study time, and, finally, I had to make sure lights were out on time. Afternoons I coached during the volleyball and track seasons. That was it for obligations. The rest of the time was mine, and it was a lot of time.

I went into town on market days. I always visited my tomato and egg ladies and wandered around serendipitously. Once I found a watermelon. Sometimes at night, my friend Bill and I went into town to buy snacks, not what you might think of snacks but the Ghanaian sort. We bought yam or plantain chips, toasted coconut balls, chin chin, a sort of pastry, kabobs and Bofrot, my favorite, a sort of Ghanaian donut.

It’s getting late.

Gee, what a surprise! It is raining yet again. I’m thinking we now have an official rainy season. I always looked forward to the return of the rain when I was in Ghana. The difference here is it’s still cold. It never got cold in Ghana.

My wash has made it to the cellar. it is getting closer to the washing machine, but there is no urgency in washing my clothes so I just leave the laundry sitting in the basket. Should I start running out of underwear, I’ll have to break down and do the laundry.

When I traveled in Africa, I always packed toilet paper. Most public toilets had holes in the floor and no toilet paper. I was an expert at aiming and finding the hole, a strange talent and not one I advertise. When I traveled with my parents, I always packed a cribbage board and playing cards. My father and I played just about every night. My mother did her crossword puzzles. My mother always packed snacks like crackers and cheese. We’d eat them at night during our marathon cribbage tournaments. When I traveled with friends in Europe, I backpacked. I’d always include a few first aid items, especially bandaids. I’d also pack a couple of books. They were easily traded items at hostels. In Ghana, besides toilet paper, I packed a book for the long bus rides and clothes, always dresses as that was what social convention demanded I wear.

On my recent visits to Ghana, I still packed anti-malarial pills and antidiarrheal pills. They are still a necessity. I also packed my iPad filled with books. My clothes this time were mostly pants and shirts. I did pack one dress just in case I needed it. I didn’t. My friend Peg packed coffee bags and Nutella. She shared each. I packed Oreos and a few other snacks. I packed toilet paper, a habit hard to break, and you never know when it might just be needed. It usually is.

Last night, I spent the evening in a time capsule talking on the phone with a long time friend. We met in the first grade, Sister Redempta’s room, and spent all of elementary school and most of high school together. He lives in Florida now. A while back we reconnected on Facebook. During our late night conversation, a marathon conversation, we talked about our common history, childhood friends, music, books and our lives in between then and now. We talked together from 12:30 until 3; consequently, I slept until 11. It was the most amazing conversation.

Today is dark and rainy. It is warm despite the dampness. Henry has been in and out several times. I have a to do list, as usual, but it is all inside. Laundry is on the list, no surprise there. The basket has finally made it to this floor. I have some plants to repot, bills to pay and valentines to send. I may even make cookies. I bought the ingredients yesterday at stop 2, the grocery store. Stop 1 was the dump, 3 Agway and 4 the candy store for Valentine’s Day chocolates. I was busy.

I am safe from the rocking chair. Henry knocked a pillow off my bed which hit the chair and made it rock. He jumped up and growled. That chair won’t dare move again.

My cleaning couple is here. I had to turn up the TV to hear it above the vacuuming. Oh, how I suffer. Henry shook when Lee tried to pat him so Henry is now sitting right beside for his protection, not mine. I guess I’ll have to be more social for Henry’s sake. He needs to meet more loving people.

I track the mileage on my car each week, not for any mechanical purposes, but to see my activity for the week. Last week, during the Polar Vortex, I went 8 miles. This week I have gone 12. My car will last forever.

Today is cloudy but warm. I’m watching the Patriot’s duck boat parade. The crowd is immense. The team is loving it. The noise meter is off the charts. Even Bill Belichick is smiling and waving.

My muse is elsewhere, maybe in Boston at the parade or maybe at the beach walking on the sand closest to the water. The sun would have been a nice addition, but I’m happy with the warmth of a still day.

Near my front door is a basket filled with hats, gloves, scarfs and mittens. My outside shoes are underneath the coat rack. On the rack are vests and Henry’s new coat. It is my winter corner.

My house has Africa in just about every room, mostly colorful Bolga baskets made in Bolgatanga, my other home town. I have wooden figures, metal gold weights, watercolors, woven fabrics, a couple of table runners and a tablecloth, also from Bolga. Upstairs I have dresses and shirts all made from Ghanaian fabrics. They mean the world to me.

I have two years to save enough for what will probably be my last trip to Ghana. It will be my anniversary, fifty years since Peace Corps service. I need to save at least $5000, a sum which seems so very large right now, but I am determined to get there, and when I am so determined, nothing stands in my way.

This morning I slept in after all the hoopla of yesterday. My Pats won the Super Bowl last night. We feasted on appetizers and a chocolate cream pie. The game was a bit boring as the offense slept. The defense, though, was mighty. The parade is tomorrow.

When I got the papers, I was surprised at how warm it is. It feels like spring. Last night the air was hazy, but today the air is clear. A cloudy blue sky frames the bright sun. It is a day to be out and about enjoying the weather.

My father never saw the winning Pats. He would have been overjoyed. My mother would have planned a watch the game party. The food would have been plentiful and delicious. She sometimes watched but knew nothing about football. One time she cheered for the wrong team. We explained. She didn’t really care. She wasn’t into any sports.

The one team my whole family roots for is the Red Sox. My niece and nephews were indoctrinated at birth with their Red Sox onesies, and they have passed on their love of the Sox to their own children who wear Red Sox t-shirts and hats all summer. Spring training for pitchers and catchers begins February 12th. I’m now putting my Patriot’s paraphernalia away and am wearing a Red Sox sweatshirt. I can barely wait for baseball.

That’s about it for today. It is almost time to be out enjoying the weather while it lasts.

The weather day by day doesn’t change. The clouds just hang around. It is a little warmer but in winter a little warmer only means one less layer. I am in my cozy clothes and have even added socks to my ensemble. The air is still.

Lately I have been watching disaster movies. The Earth has been threatened by aliens, the sun, snow and cold, meteors, zombies and various monsters, even dinosaurs. Some of the movies are truly bad. Sometimes I watch all the way through other times I give up. The first ten minutes are more than enough. I still wonder why anyone would pay to have such bad movies made. In most of them I don’t know any of the actors. I understand why they are in the movie. Work is work and someone might just be discovered. I wish, though, they had thought about the poor audience.

When I was in Ghana, this was the worst time of year for weather. It wasn’t winter, but it was harmattan, desert like weather. The days were so hot that when I’d sit in a chair in my living room (hall to Ghanaians), I always left my body imprint. The wind blew dust everywhere making the air hazy and blocking the sun. I’d shower at night and feel cool for the first time all day as my shower only had cold water. In late February the harmattan would begin to change. The days were hot and humid, the worse combination, and we moved closer to the start of the rainy season, my favorite season.

The Super Bowl is on tonight though I figure I really didn’t need to remind anyone. My Patriots play in yet another championship. I know people hate them, and I understand. I spend a lot of years hating the Yankees. My friends and I are getting together to watch the game. Yelling and moaning and cheering are so much better when you’re in a crowd, even a crowd of three.

“Faithful followers, there is no shadow of me and a beautiful spring it shall be,” predicted Punxsutawney Phil this morning, but I’m skeptical as he is only correct 40% of the time. Come on, Phil. Didn’t you notice how cold it is when you stuck your nose outside?

Today is cloudy and a little warmer than the last few days so I have to bite the bullet and go out do a bit of shopping. I have only a small list, but I have to go to three or four stores.

Henry’s fur is all over the floor again. You can chart his route by following the line of dust. It goes from the couch, down the hall to the backdoor. I’m going to vacuum it today. I’m also going to bring my laundry basket downstairs. It is full.

When I was a kid, I would have welcomed today, a warmer than it has been Saturday. If the movie looked good, I’d go to the matinee. If not, I’d ride my bike around town, walk the tracks or even go ice skating at Recreation Park where the town erected a rink every winter. The DPW filled it with water which wasn’t very deep so the rink froze quickly. At the end of the day they’d spray the rink again so the ice would be cleared of all the skate ruts and marks, sort of a do it yourself Zamboni. I wasn’t a very good skater, but I could go backwards a bit. I’d skate until my feet started to hurt.

Quite a few years ago, I dragged my skates out of storage and went with friends to the rink in Hyannis. I could still skate, but it didn’t take long for my feet to start to hurt. I spent most of the time drinking hot cocoa and watching the skaters. I still have my skates, but I used them as a Christmas decoration. I sling them over my wooden sled. I am ten again.

The air is perfectly still, the sky partly cloudy, and it’s cold but warmer than yesterday. I hurried to get my papers and yesterday’s mail then lingered over cups of coffee while I read the two papers. The sky got cloudy.

I do have a small shopping list, but I’m debating whether today or tomorrow when it will be warmer still. Part of the reason to stay inside is the cold, but I do admit that that the bigger part is pure laziness. I’d have to get dressed, out of my cozies into my outside clothes. That seems a daunting task.

Henry has finally figured out coming in dog door, but he still needs encouragement before he goes out the door. He runs down the hall and turns to look at me. I say go, and he goes a few feet then turns around again. When he finally gets to the door, he goes outside. Sometimes he’s outside so long I get nervous and go check on him. He always comes running.

Lately I have been watching really old television on Best TV Ever. This morning I watched the very first Dragnet when it wasn’t even Dragnet but rather Badge 714. The station is filled with black and white programs dating back to the early 50’s. Some I remember, many I don’t. Robin Hood is one of the programs. I remember the arrow and Richard Greene as Robin Hood.

Our TV was in a wooden console with doors that covered the screen. The console was huge. The TV screen was small. Knobs turned the TV on and off. In the back were tubes. The rabbit ears antenna sat on top of the console. Snow was common, on the screen, not the yard. One of us would play around with the antenna hoping to find the sweet spot where the snow disappeared. Sometimes we didn’t, but we watched anyway. I remember the first time I stayed awake long enough to watch the TV station sign off for the night with the Star Spangled Banner. I even watched the Indian test pattern for a while. It was boring, but I was excited staying up so late, later then the TV.

From the window, the morning looks lovely with a bright sun and a totally blue sky. I blithely went to get the papers only to be hit with air as cold as it has been all winter. I gasped. I’m not leaving the house today. My errand list can wait. I have all I need including Mint Oreos, cold cuts and cheese. My larder runneth over.

I have found the perfect movie for today, a really bad movie, but still perfect, 100 Below Zero. CGI snow covers Paris as an ash cloud heads to the city causing a new ice age in its wake. The top of the Eiffel Tower just fell. I’d best stop for a bit to get back to the movie before I miss any of the exciting action. Will our heroes survive?

When I was a kid, they never called off school because of cold, only snow. On the coldest days my mother dressed us much like Randy in A Christmas Story except we wore layers, not a snow suit. I had to wear a skirt to school so my mother made me wear snow pants under the skirt. Under the snow pants I wore long underwear, pink long underwear, which came to my knees, just above the skirt hem. I wore knee socks, a sweater, my winter coat, mittens, a hat and a scarf. Walking to school, we all looked the same so none of us were distinguishable.

Yesterday I went through all the Christmas presents I bought on sale for next Christmas and put them in individually labeled decorative bags, also bought on sale. I made a list of all the names and put checks under each name for the small gifts, and I listed the bigger ones. The sorting took a while, but I’m glad its done. I swear to keep the list updated, but I know I won’t.

It is almost laundry day. A pile sits in the laundry basket in my bedroom, but before it is moved, I have to change my bed then add the old sheets to the basket then haul it downstairs next to the cellar door where it will sit until I get tired of looking at it. That takes a long time.