Today is a good day. We have sun, at least for the meantime, and a blue sky hazy with clouds. It is in the 50’s though it will drop to the 30’s tonight. The Red Sox have their best opening record since 1918. Today’s game is on at 1. My knee barely hurts this morning so it is close to healing completely. I even brought the trash bag to the car. The laundry which has sat by the cellar door long enough to grow legs is now in the washer and the dryer. Henry is more at home. He growled when he heard a car door shut. He is sitting and napping on the couch. Last night I went out on the deck to check for him, and he was running circles at top speed in the yard. He then ran up the backstairs and went into the house by the dog door. His dishes are now on the floor, no more couch feedings.

This coming week is April vacation. When I worked, I usually went to Europe and spent the week in one country. One of my favorite trips was with my parents and my sister Sheila. We  spent most of the week in Belgium though we did cross over to the Netherlands. I remember driving along the side of a canal. I think my father held his breath the whole time. We took a ferry, and I had to drive the car onto the ferry, onto the two wooden entry planks. My father closed his eyes. The funniest incident was in a wonderful restaurant though I can’t remember which town. My mother and sister went to the ladies room. My dad and I checked the map for our next leg. All of a sudden the middle of the map was on fire. We had been too close to the candle. Everyone in that restaurant burst into laughter. We just sort of shrugged, put out the fire and folded the map. When my mother and sister got to the table, they wanted to know why everyone was chuckling. I unfolded the map. It had a huge hole in the middle with burnt edges. The two of them roared laughing. My father and I were chagrined.

My mother told us she was tired of Europe. We jumped on that one. She was forever sorry she had said it, but I knew what she meant. Our next trip was with the whole family and was in honor of my dad who had wanted to take us all somewhere to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary. They didn’t make it to 50. My dad passed away. My mother decided she’d give us a trip to Panama through the canal and fulfill my dad’s dream trip. We hoisted more than a few in his honor when we met every afternoon for drinks. We knew he’d have loved that trip.

My last four trips have been to Africa: one to Morocco and three to Ghana. My bank account is gasping for breath. I’d like to take one more trip. I figure in three years if I’m frugal I’ll have enough to go somewhere. That destination has yet to be determined, but it won’t be to Europe. I love off the beaten path.

Today was supposed to be warm. It isn’t. Maybe some sun would help, but that doesn’t look likely. Drab is the best adjective I can come up with for today.

Henry is a chewer. He chewed two edges of my down comforter. Feathers were on the floor or I would have missed it. He also chewed his halter in half. I went to Agway and bought him chew sticks. He ate two of them yesterday. I got good news at Agway as I found out his halter has a lifetime guarantee so I can trade the chewed one for a new one. He is a crazy dog when he sees me awake. He jumps all over the bed, pushes me with his nose and lies on his back for pats. Today he slid off the bed. He is spending his days down here with me, compliments of the gate. Right now he is napping.

When I was a kid, there was no leash law. Dogs just roamed. Duke used to follow us to  school. My dad would call him, Duke would look then just ignore him. It drove my father crazy. My mother used to entice him with a slice of bologna. Duke would run up to her, grab the bologna then run away to eat it. My mother was always left with only a small piece. The nuns sometimes made me take Duke home from school. I never minded as school went on without me. I’d get home, have a snack then walk back to school. The nuns didn’t know where I lived so they didn’t questioned how long it took. I never discouraged Duke from following me.

My mother was a whiz working with hamburger. She made the best meat loaves. My favorite had mashed potatoes as a frosting which browned in the oven. Other times she’d put ketchup and bacon on the top. Her American chop suey is still a favorite of mine. Another dish had the requisite hamburger, bean sprouts, water chestnuts and chow mein noodles all served over rice. We thought it was real Chinese food. I still don’t understand how she got us to eat the sprouts and water chestnuts. We had spaghetti with meat sauce. In the summer it was barbecued cheeseburgers.

I was never tired of eating hamburger. My other served it in so many ways it was never boring or repetitive. We never complained. Even now when I go out for a quick dinner, I usually order a cheeseburger and fries.

Okay, I am discouraged. That doesn’t happen often as I am stubborn enough to plow through being discouraged, but my knee is out of my control. It still hurts, a lot.

We’ve had sunny mornings the last few days, but the nights are winter cold. During the Sox game on Tuesday you could see the players’ breaths. I was so happy I was watching the game from the warmth of my house.

Henry had been spending the days upstairs on the safety of my bed. He’d come down to eat or to go out. Yesterday I put a gate across the stairs to keep him down here. He jumps on the couch but turns around and jumps off. He is restless.

My house and clothes are covered in white dog hairs. I am picking up piles from on the floors and the stairs. I never thought about the white hairs. Gracie and all my boxers were short-haired. They left hair on the couch and the backseat of the car, and that was it. Given the amount of hair, I don’t know why Henry isn’t bald.

Today is opening day at Captain Frosty’s, a mostly seafood restaurant, the sort with fried foods like clams and scallops and shrimp. My friends and I always celebrate the opening  by having dinner or actually a late lunch. I’m leaning toward shrimp.

My landscaper guys came and spring cleaned my yard. They raked all the gardens and the front lawn. They blew the deck and the driveway clean. Everything looks ready for planting, and I have list of flowers I want. They are mostly orange or red as the front garden is heavy on white and purple flowers. They are all perennials. I also need flowers for the front step pots. I know some will be pansies. When I was a kid, I believed pansies were the flowers of fairies. I could see their faces in the flowers, and I could see the sun hats which framed their faces. When I first saw The Wizard of Oz and the flowers in Munchkin Land standing up behind Dorothy, I was sure about my pansies.

What a surprise! It is cloudy and damp and it rained a bit earlier. Welcome to spring!

My yard is being spring cleaned. The blowers scared Henry who is upstairs hiding. He came down to eat, sat a bit with me on the couch then ran upstairs.

I went to physical therapy yesterday. My arm is stiff and has curtailed movement. I have a couple of exercises to help. Peter, my therapist, noticed my limp. It’s a bit difficult not to. He checked my knee and couldn’t believe how swollen it still is. That I can’t straighten it was his big concern. It just hurts too much. He worked with the knee a bit and gave me an exercise to help straighten it. Last night was brutal. Today isn’t much better. I have decided not to fall again.

My first fall was at 5 and the second fall I remember happened when I was ten. I must have been going to the bathroom and turned the wrong way and tumbled down the stairs whacking my chin on the table at the foot of the stairs. Nobody heard me. My chin was bleeding profusely. I woke my mother up and told her I had fallen. I didn’t mention the blood dripping from my chin. She told me to go back to bed so I did. I had to sleep on the floor with my back against my bed as my chin throbbed too much for me to lie down. In the morning my mother was horrified to see the gash on my chin and all the blood on my pajama top. We went to the doctor’s. First he cleaned it and was none too gentle. He said he couldn’t stitch it. He closed it with bandaids. I have a scar under my chin.

I could do an errand or two today, but I just don’t want to go anywhere. I want to stay home, moan about my knee and take a nap to make up for last night.

My larder is filled. With my coffee I had an onion bagel and cream cheese. It was a perfect way to start the morning. I love the days after Peapod delivers.

We have sun. I even opened the front door to let the warmth stream. The cat is lying in the sunlight. Cats know how to be comfortable. It is still chilly, in the 30’s, but will get warmer, low 40’s, toward the afternoon.

My heat has started blasting. It is time to shut the front door. Maddie won’t mind. She’s here with me. Henry is upstairs. He had a tough night. He threw up a couple of times and was so restless he was on and off the couch and on and off my bed. Around 2:30, I was thinking to take him to the emergency vet. I looked on-line at vet sites most of which said to watch the dog, check for dehydration, and if the vomiting continues to take the dog to the vets. He seems better this morning and ate some chicken. I’ll keep an eye on him the whole day.

I’m still limping though my knee hurts less. My fractured arm is just about healed. I only wear the brace toward the evening after using my arm all day. Such are my trials and tribulations.

I was once a candy striper. My uniform was a white blouse and a striped pink and white jumper. The New England San was the hospital where I volunteered. It was also the hospital where I was born. We’d all meet first then get our jobs for the day. Sometimes I delivered flowers and mail to the patients. Other times I brought stuff to the lab. I even worked in the gift shop. My stint only lasted a few months. I didn’t enjoy it. Being a candy  striper helped me decide I would never want to be a nurse.

When I was in college, I had the same job every summer and during Christmas vacations. I worked in the Hyannis post office. The money was good, and I was usually busy so the time went quickly. Mostly I sorted first class mail. On weekends I sometimes worked parcel post. I got to toss packages into huge canvas bags. That was my favorite part. I also sorted newspapers and magazines. If it got slow, I’d stop and read the magazines until I got noticed. I actually liked working in the post office. I was even offered a full time job just before my senior year in college. I declined.

I saw a new flower in the garden. It is another yellow daffodil. I also noticed several hyacinths peeking out of their greenery. I can see the tops of their bumpy buds. The day lilies are above ground. Every morning brings something new in the front garden. Despite the cold, the flowers are preparing for their spring debuts. That brings a bit of elation, a bit of joy.

I remember reading All Summer in a Day by Ray Bradbury. On Venus the sun comes out for one hour every seven years. The rest of the time it rains, and that was what brought this short story to mind. I am living the Venus experience. Here we are again with Clouds, nothing but clouds. I called my sister who lives north of Boston. She has sun, an object becoming fainter in my memory.

The day is cold and raw. Snow flurries are predicted. The low will be 29˚. I am so tired of bundling when I go out and wearing socks and a sweatshirt inside the house. Where have you gone spring?

When I was a kid, it didn’t matter how cold it was. Life went on. I don’t remember ever complaining about the weather. That was an adult thing. We played after school in the cold of winter. Snow was fun and the more snow the better, maybe even a snow day! It was only winter rain which kept us inside. Now the cold gets into my bones. Sometimes I just can’t get warm. I am quite adept at complaining about the weather.

I have watched every Red Sox game. The last two were at Fenway. It was football cold. Even if I had been offered tickets, I would have politely declined.

Henry is feeling more at home. He has started to roam a bit. He came into the bathroom with me and followed me to the front door when I went to get the papers, but I have to be careful as any noise spooks him, and he runs to his safe spots, the couch and my bed upstairs. Every morning when I wake up, he greets me with a wagging tail and kisses. When I let him out, he runs down the stairs to the nearest grass. He doesn’t roam the yard yet. I still need to teach him to use the dog door.

The cape used to shut down all winter. The motels closed. Route 28 was mostly dark. Only one movie theater was open. The only shopping was Main Street Hyannis. Few restaurants were open. I don’t know how I survived my teen years.

My dance card is empty. I do have the first physical therapy for my arm tomorrow, but that’s it for the week. When bears hibernate, they sleep and time passes. I wish it were the same for me. With the clouds and the cold and staying in, it feels as if I’m hibernating.

I am watching the ballgame, and it is sunny in Boston. We still have clouds, and it is still cold. A daffodil has bloomed in my front garden. It is a bright yellow. I loved seeing the color. I am so tired of winter drab.

My leg feels better today after resting it all night. I still moan and groan at the pain, but it is less than it had been. I slept until late this morning because I woke up a few times during the night. My bed is such a mess it looks like a crime scene from Forensic Files.

Other than watching the opening baseball game with my friends, I’ve done little in the last week. I shopped a few times for food, both animal and human, but that’s it. My house is clean, but I didn’t clean it. Roseana and Lee did. I just wrote the check. My laundry is piled by the door, but that will have to wait. I don’t need an excuse to avoid doing laundry, but I like having one. It makes me feel less of a sloth.

I wanted seafood so I finally got clams and onion rings, the thin ones. I didn’t even get to the French fries hidden below. Now I want Chinese food. I’m thinking lo mein, jumbo shrimp and scallion pancakes.

I saw a review of a new restaurant in Hyannis and put it on my list. It serves Caribbean food including plantain, one of my favorites. That made me wonder about all the foods I love and whether I would have tasted them had I not gone to Ghana. Plantain and okra are included. I had hummus and tabouli for the first time ever in Accra at a small restaurant called Talal’s. On my last trip to Ghana, my friends and I had Lebanese food for lunch in Accra. It was like so long ago. I ate Indian food for the first time in Ghana at the Maharaja. I didn’t know what to order, and I don’t remember what I had except I’m guessing curry as it was in Ghana where I had curry for the first time. That is now one of my favorite meals to cook for friends.

I know some people who taste with their eyes. My father would never eat hummus because he said it looked like wallpaper paste. As for me, I’m willing to try just about anything though I do think I’d avoid haggis. I had tongue once in Ghana and doubt I’ll ever eat it again. In Colorado I did give Rocky Mountain oysters a try, and they go on the same list as tongue.

Right now I’m eating coconut jelly beans.

The morning has been a disaster. First, my back really hurt from sleeping as I did curled around the dog who had made himself quite comfortable. I had to grab on to things like the door knob so I could get to the bathroom with the least amount of pain. When I reached to the bottom of a shelf, I missed and down I went. That caused me to yelp loudly and I scared Henry. I stayed a bit on the floor until my knee stopped hurting then got myself up. When upright, my feet began to slide on the floor in opposite directions. My right leg turned in the wrong direction and down I went. The leg was so painful I made a bit too much noise for poor Henry who was quite scared. I got up after a long while, went to the bathroom then hobbled back to bed to comfort Henry. I then went down the stairs slowly, a step at a time. Henry wouldn’t come down. I fed the cat, made coffee and used my cane so I could get the papers. Henry still wouldn’t come down. I knew he must have peed so I crawled upstairs, cleaned up the pee then sat with Henry on the bed for a while. I went back downstairs. I called Henry, and he came running  and went right outside. He did his business and came back in and jumped on the couch. I got a cup of coffee and fed the dog. I read one paper. By then, both legs hurt. Walking is painful, especially my right leg. When I did the split, I used muscles I didn’t know I had. These two falls were the weirdest of any. I didn’t trip. I missed the shelf. I didn’t trip. I slid. Today will be a couch day for me and poor Henry. I do think I am taking falling to a whole new dimension.

It is snowing right now. A few random flakes are falling. Today is April 6th. The gardens should be ablaze with bright flowers of all colors. The trees are supposed to have buds, not snow, on the branches. This is soup and sandwich weather when I expected barbecue. Mother Nature definitely has my attention.

Bundle up if you’re going to Fenway for the home opener. It is really cold. Right now it’s only 35˚. That sounds like football weather to me. I’ll watch the game, of course, but I will be sitting in a warm house with my friends. I’ll be wearing my Red Sox garb while I cheer on the boys of summer.

Baseball has always been my favorite sport. I think that comes from how easy it is to understand: even the complexities are easy. Texas leaguer, infield fly rule, defensive indifference, hitting for the cycle, I know all of those.

When I was a kid, I used to go to the town’s little league field to watch the games. I’d sit on the hill and cheer on the boys who were my classmates. My brother was on a farm team, and I’d sometimes go to his practices. Once the team was short a man so the coach invited me to play. I was really excited. I’d been playing softball but never baseball. They put me in the outfield. I caught the only ball which reached me. I even got to bat. I hit a double, a stand-up double and knocked in a run. The coach clapped. He said too bad I wasn’t a boy.

My den has lots of Red Sox stuff. My favorite is the brick my friends gave me. Another one just like it is on the floor of the concourse at Fenway. The brick says Kathleen Ryan, Peace Corps Ghana, 1969-1971. If you go to Fenway, check out the Monbouquette area and find my brick. The bobble heads of Jerry Remy and Don Orsillo remind me how how much I miss Don calling the games with Remy. They were wonderful and funny. They broke each other up all the time. Maybe that’s why Don was unceremoniously fired. I didn’t even know the name of the current play by play guy though this is his third season. I had to look it up. I miss the fun.

My favorite Fenway story was when I was a senior in high school. My friends and I went to an afternoon game, far more common back then. There was a bunch of guys beside us. They were swearing the whole time, not your innocent hell or damns but the big ones. I found their language offensive and asked them to stop. They didn’t. I asked again. They still didn’t, and one guy swore right at me. I have no idea what possessed me, but I punched him in the face. Everyone around us stopped still and just looked at the both of us but mostly me. I was shocked at what I’d done and afraid he’d was going to punch me, but he didn’t. He stopped swearing and even offered me popcorn and peanuts. I thanked him and we all went back to watching and enjoying the game. I don’t remember if the Sox won, but I’ll never forget that punch.

The morning was sunny. Now the sun is hit or miss as there are clouds. Rain is coming later.

The world is catching up with me. I prefer cocooning, but sometimes I have no choice but to go out. Today I have errands, those mundane little chores which I generally eschew. Actually, I have several days worth of errands. Little stickies are all over the house reminding me what I need, and the stickies have no room to grow. I’d much rather rummage through the cabinets and the freezer than go shopping, but Maddie hates the new food I bought. For her, I shop.

For some reason, I have been a night owl of late. I don’t really mind as I can sleep in or set my alarm if I have to be somewhere. Most nights I keep busy by puttering around the house, playing on the computer, reading or watching TV. Last night it was mostly the computer and TV. I make most of my appointments for the afternoons. I am not a fan of alarm clocks. They ruled my life for far too long.

When I first moved into my house, I had a desk, a TV and a studio couch, all in one room. In the kitchen I had two pots, a frying pan and a toaster oven. I didn’t even have a fridge for the first few days. Though the mortgage was half my month’s salary, I remember sitting in the sun on the small farmer’s deck in a hand-me down blue lawn chair thinking I owned the world.

The house has come far since those early days. Each year the mortgage became a smaller percentage of my salary until it was finally paid off. Back then, in the beginning, with almost no extra money to spend, I bought furniture a piece at a time, and family and friends gave me some wonderful castoffs, including a bedroom set I still use and a rocking chair I love. The guest room beds were $10.00 each from a friend of a friend, and I have them still. An old kitchen table I bought at an auction was the first piece in the living room. It’s still there. The desk too remains. It is big and awkward and only used for storage. I no longer have the pots and pans, but they had a long and useful life.

My house is decorated with mementoes from my travels, most from Ghana. There are baskets, paintings, gourds, wooden and brass figures and pottery. From Ghana I also have a pottery bowl with a wooden masher which is used for grinding foods like hot peppers and ginger. From Morocco I have a tagine. I have a pottery coffee set from England and a few more pieces from here and there. When I use any of these, I feel the connections between the places and me. They are far more than souvenirs, more than memories. They are vibrant and alive.