Keep the Coffee Comimg

We did get a little rain but not enough. Now we have humidity. The air is thick despite the breeze, but here in the den it is still cool. This room is morning dark. It won’t get sun until this afternoon.

The anniversary of the moon landing brought back a flood memories for me. I was in Ghana that July, in training for the Peace Corps. It was during the second phase of training. We were in Bawku, a village in the Upper Region, for three weeks to live with families. There were 9 of us learning Hausa. We all had bicycles rented for us so we could get in and out of Bawku so every day at lunch we rode our bikes and met for more language training at a volunteer’s house just outside Bawku. I remember the house. The main room was huge. One end was the living room while the other end had the kitchen table and chairs. We were pretty cut off from what was happening at home. We saw no newspapers. None of us trainees had radios, but that day we listened to VOA. The volunteer whose house we were at had a radio. I remember it was early evening in Ghana. We were all clustered around the table. None of us spoke. We just listened. Everything was described. We had to visualize Armstrong going down the ladder and his feet jumping off the ladder and landing on the moon. We heard him describe the leap. We cheered.

Many Ghanaians didn’t believe we had landed on the moon. They hadn’t seen it, just heard it the same way we did. They thought it had all been staged, that it was a radio play similar to that War of the Worlds broadcast by Orson Wells.

I’m tired today. I think it’s the humidity. Mother Nature has to quick fooling around and either make it rain or make it dry.

Today is dark and dank. The humidity is back, and the air is thick with moisture. There is  a wind blowing branches and leaves back and forth. Rain is predicted for this afternoon, and I can barely wait. Everything is dry.

Last night we never did see a movie. We had appetizers and dinner on the deck, but it got too cold to stay outside so we had game night inside instead. You are reading the words of a winner!

I like to try new recipes when I have company so last night we had blueberry salsa. It was delicious. The blueberries were small, wild berries and were wonderfully sweet. I ate a few handfuls before I made the salsa. A variety of barbecued sausages, marinara sauce, caramelized onions and fried peppers were the main meal with coleslaw and cucumber salad as sides. I had bought fresh ciabatta bread so we could made sandwiches. Dinner was delicious, and the best part is I get to have leftovers today.

One of the spawns of Satan has gone to his reward. When I was watering the deck plants yesterday, I saw what I thought might have been Henry’s waste product (better known as poop), but it was in a weird spot and he never goes on the deck. After a closer examination, I realized it was offal. It was then I saw the gross remains of a gray spawn’s head and only the head. I jet sprayed all of it off the deck. My guess is a raccoon though I haven’t seen one and Henry hasn’t announced one.

Today is a stay around the house day, a sloth day. I’m not even going to get dressed. I’m going to finish my book and start another one. I’m going to eat a sausage sandwich. I may even take a nap.

The perfect weather will end tomorrow, but I still have today. The morning air has a coolness left over from last night. When Henry went out, I followed, but I stayed on the deck while he romped in the yard. Some birds were singing while others flew in and out of the sunflower feeders. The goldfinches hug on the bag of thistle.

I noticed a few new flowers have burst from their buds in the front garden. I saw a purple flower and a small blue one in the back. Other bunches have buds growing  bigger and bigger every day. I can see their white flowers. Soon the whole garden will be a riot of colors.

Today I have a small must do list. I’m going to the dump. The new flowers for the deck need to be potted, and the chiminea needs tempering. Tomorrow is our first movie night so I want to buy a few groceries, put together the outside basket and finish the menu. The outside basket has punks, a lighter, some natural bug spray, sparklers and some balloons which light up. It also has movie napkins and some movie candy. The movie for tomorrow is The Beast from Yucca Flats which is on several worst movies ever lists. According to IMDB, this movie was filmed silent, had dubbed-in sound effects and voiced-over narration. The star is Tor Johnson who was in Plan Nine from Outer Space which should give you an idea of his acting talents.

My neighborhood is quiet again: no kids, no machinery. I don’t even hear a barking dog. I like the stillness. Maddie is sleeping but Henry is wandering. He won’t get on the couch because I put the halter on the couch. I want to leave it there so he no longer sees it as a threat, but he has to be on the couch for that to happen. I’ll see how long that takes.

It’s time to get moving, to work on that to do list.

When I did my errands, the roads were full of cars. I even had to wait a few light cycles. What in the heck are all those people in cars doing? Why are they not at the beach on a perfect beach day? Spending even one sunny day of a vacation on the road seems a monumental waste.

I  got all my errands done because I had strategized my route before I left. Some days I give up and go home in mid-errand. Today wasn’t one of those.

When I left, I didn’t close the back door hoping to keep the house cool and in case Henry wanted out, but when I got home, he and Maddie were asleep.

Henry and Maddie rule the roost which is an odd metaphor as neither roost. I am their housemaid. Maddie wants fresh water every time she takes a drink. She sits by the water dish and meows at me when I go by the bathroom where the dish is. Before I do anything in the morning, including my coffee, I feed both of them. Henry sits and waits by his dishes, and Maddie weaves in and out of my legs, a dangerous maneuver for both of us. Treats are kept here in the den, mostly Maddie’s as she needs bulking being so skinny. Maddie is a slow, gentle eater. Henry gets a chew treat as that takes him a while to eat so Maddie can eat her treats in peace. He is always noisy and a bit messy. For their morning, afternoon and evening naps, Maddie sleeps on a small throw on the table and Henry sleeps on the couch. At bedtime, Maddie stays downstairs, and Henry runs up the stairs ahead of me and is usually waiting on my bed. Thought they don’t speak human, they have taught me how to respond to dog and cat speak. I am their faithful servant.

It has been a noisy morning. When I woke up, the kids were playing in the street, loudly playing in the street. The kids are gone but I can hear machinery, a different sound than a lawn mower. It is coming from somewhere down the street. What has happened to my  usual, quiet morning?

The air conditioner is back on as the house last night felt hot and stuffy. This morning, despite a slight breeze, it is already 81˚ with 73% humidity. As my father always said, “It ain’t the heat. It’s the humidity.”

I have to go to Hyannis today. To me, that’s like a trip to the big city. It has all the stores Dennis doesn’t, and they will soon add a Walmart. Most times I shop a bit while I’m there, but it is too hot today. Trader Joe’s will just have to wait for cooler weather.

Lately I have been watching YouTube videos about street food in Ghana. The guy doing the narrating and the eating drives me a bit crazy. He constantly smiles and thinks everything is delicious. I want to whack him every time he says awesome or amazing. His Ghanaian guide, though, is excellent. She is finding the best street food for him to try. He just bought a donut of sorts, one of my favorites. Small girls used to carry square glass boxes with wooden sides on their heads filled with those donuts. The guy finished the donut, sort of like eating dessert first, and is now eating a goat soup with okra. As he scoops banku into the soup, the okra slime hangs from his hand. I so remember that slime when I’d eat okra soup, one of my favorites despite the slime. In case you were wondering, the goat meat is awesome. His guide also had goat meat but with fufu. I love everything familiar in the video: hearing Ghanaian English, seeing little kids follow the narrator, walking behind the houses in the villages and listening to the different tribal languages, though here it is mostly Twi. He is now in a cocoa village where he will have lunch. The women are still cooking. The fufu being pounded is plantain and yam. Watching these videos always makes me feel homesick.

Last night I was reading in bed. A fly was in and out around the light and my head. I tried to whack it with a book but missed a few times. Finally I caught it in my hand. I didn’t know what to do with it so I got up, opened the window and threw out the fly who was still quite alive.

This morning I just didn’t want to get out of bed. I lolled a bit then finally around 9:45 reluctantly got up. Henry had awakened me around 6 so I went downstairs to let him out. I was taken aback a bit when I saw my door was wide open. I hadn’t closed it before I’d gone to bed. It’s a good thing no gangs of armed marauders had roamed my neighborhood in the darkness of the night.

The weather is again delightful though the humidity is coming. I wish it would rain.

When I was a kid, I was a bit mouthy, but I thought myself quite witty. My father thought otherwise. He never appreciated my quickness with the bon mot. That I got myself in trouble didn’t matter. I liked the one-upmanship.

Growing up, I mastered all the usual kid stuff like ice skates, roller skates and bike riding. I never did spin the hula hoop more than a couple of times before it fell to the ground.

I haven’t thrown horseshoes in years, but in bygone times I was good at it. Seldom did my horseshoe land far from the post, and leaners and ringers were common for me.

I haven’t miniature golfed in forever, but I still remember my frustration with the windmill. Our windmill had three holes leading to the green, and they were always my downfall. My ball inevitably hit the windmill between the holes and bounced back to me again and again. My co-players would sit on the bench waiting and laughing and doing a play by play.

I also haven’t been bowling in forever. Around here we bowl candlepin with three balls to a frame. One of my balls always ended up in the gutter, a sort of bowling curveball. If I ever got a spare, I wanted to hear We Are the Champions over the loud speaker and spontaneous applause.

I was good at softball. I was a pitcher who had a wicked fastball, and I could play first base. My bat was lively and I could judge most balls well enough to hit them for base hits. This sport, of course, is not a lifetime sport.

I’m best at tripping and falling. Too bad it’s not a sport. I’d always get a ten.

I am loving this weather. My den was so chilly this morning I had to shut the window behind me, but it is already getting warming. The high will be 78˚ and the low 55˚, which I’m expecting will be tonight.

When I was young, I believed in everything. I knew there was a Santa. He left toys under the tree every Christmas and filled my stocking until it bulged. The tooth fairy left money under my pillow. Fairies flitted in the field below my house. There were hundreds of fairies, hundreds of Tinker Bells. I never questioned why a bunny left eggs in my basket at Easter. I saw the Man in the Moon. He always smiled. I jumped over cracks in the roads and sidewalks. I didn’t want to be responsible for my mother’s broken back. My mother led me to believe if I ate watermelon seeds, they’d grow in my stomach, and that I could go blind sitting so close to the TV screen. She told me eating carrots would give me keen eyesight, and if I crossed my eyes, they’d stay that way.  I kept hoping I’d be able to see in the dark. My mother could tell if I was lying because my tongue turned black. I couldn’t get away with anything as she had eyes in the back of her head. It didn’t matter how much I looked. I never saw them, but I figured they were there anyway.

As I got older, I gradually stopped believing. I was never traumatized by learning the truth, and in some cases I was actually relieved. There would be no gardens in my stomach, I’d not go blind watching TV and my mother’s back was safe. I ate carrots and had no expectations. My mother couldn’t see behind her, and my tongue would never turn black.

I now know fireflies aren’t fairies but they still enthrall me. When the first one appears in my backyard each summer, I am always so excited, and I watch the on and off light of that firefly until it disappears, until the firefly flits off too far for me to follow. Christmas is always a joy, a delight of traditions, family and friends, even without Santa. I spit watermelon seeds for distance and for the fun of it and not because of that garden. I still believe there is magic in the world. I have to.