Keep the Coffee Comimg

Last night it poured. I expected at some point while I was sleeping the rain would turn to snow as the prediction was we’d have 3 or so inches, but when I woke up, there was no blanket of snow, just piles of rain pocked ugly snow from the last storm. The worst, though, is the slush. While my coffee was brewing, I walked to get my paper and yesterday’s mail. My street has two clear ruts for cars, but the rest of the street is all slush so deep it almost went up over my shoes. I removed the mats on my front steps as they are soaked, and I don’t want them to freeze. That’s how I broke my arm, slip sliding away.

Today is such an ugly day I’m going nowhere. I’m not even going to get dressed. I have everything I need including two cupcakes I bought yesterday. One is chocolate and the other lemon, two favorite tastes. The world is a wonderful place!

It’s time to welcome spring with pastels and colorful new Easter clothes. I think, though, I’ll pass on the Mary Jane’s. I remember these weeks before Easter, and my poor mother dragging us Easter shopping. My sisters always went frilly. They wore petticoats under their dresses, wide brim hats with ribbons and white shoes with a single strap. My brother got new pants, a white shirt and a clip on tie. My sisters loved to come home and try on their new clothes and new shoes. They’d prance. Yellow and pink and light blue were their favorite colors. I got a dress most years but it wasn’t ever frilly. I was never the type. I do remember my favorite Easter dress. It was a style straight from the 1920’s with its low waist. My shoes were squat little heels which I always think of now as training heels. The dress was a light blue-green, and it had a flower on the side at the waist. I felt sophisticated and older when I wore it. I was probably thirteen.

We always got new clothes. It was part of the Easter ritual. I never thought about it back then, but when I was older, I often wondered how many weeks my mother put money into the budget envelope labeled Easter clothes. She never disappointed us.

It is late I know, but I have had a busy day. It started at 5:15 when my obnoxious alarm went off. I whacked the snooze once then decided to drag myself out of bed. Coffee first was a necessity. I then turned on the news to keep an eye on the next nor’easter. Snow is definitely coming starting tomorrow afternoon. I find this storm an insult. Today is the first day of spring. I should be in the garden planting flowers. I shouldn’t be wearing layers, warm socks and a hood.

My friends and I celebrated our first day of spring tradition by greeting the sunrise at West Dennis Beach this morning. It was extraordinary. We sang our songs: Rocking Robin, Morning Has Broken, a third song whose obscure title I don’t remember and then we each read lines from Frost’s Two Tramps in Mud Time. The sun began to rise over the rocky jetty. First came the light then the top of the sun then more of it until the brilliant ball of light had risen completely. Its light glinted on the water and a band of color spread across the beach looking like a carpet of light. It was so bright I had to shade my eyes. It was glorious. Before we left, Clare looked for and found shells, our reminders of the beauty of today.

We ended the morning, as we do every year, by going out to breakfast. I had the usual, eggs over easy, bacon and toast.

I got home, read the paper for a bit then left for my library board meeting at nine. It was quick, and I was home by 9:45. I was tired. I took a nap.

I don’t really care that the snow is coming. Today is the first day of spring. Soon enough my garden will be filled with bright, colorful flowers. The birds will sing every morning to celebrate the day. I’ll open my windows to the fresh, sweet air. I’ll hear the rustling of leaves again. It’s all coming. I just have to be a little patient.

Yesterday’s St. Patrick’s Day dinner was superb. We feasted on the traditional meal of corned beef, potatoes, carrots and cabbage with wonderful Irish bread slathered with butter. In the background was Irish music compliments of Alexa. We were all in green as befitting the occasion. My friend Tony gave Clare, his wife, and me bags of St. Patrick’s Day goodies including green Snowballs, Necco Wafers and chocolates covered in shamrock decorated foil. It was a festive evening, a wonderful evening.

The weather is wintry with below freezing nights and mornings. Right now it is 24˚, but the sun is bright and the sky cloudless so the day is a pretty one. I do need to fill bird feeders and do a load of wash. That’s it for the day’s to do list.

Sometimes a perfect moment occurs, and I recognize it right away. These feelings of delight, of glee, usually come from something simple but wonderful.

I remember being in Ireland at a B&B in Youghal, a summer resort. It was off-season. My family and I, mother, father, grandfather and two aunts, were the only guests. My room was cold, no heat. The bed had layers of comforters. I took a bath, quickly toweled dry, put on warm clothes and jumped into bed.   I grabbed my book, a Dorothy Sayers Lord Peter Wimsey novel, and unwrapped my Cadbury fruit and nut bar. I broke off a piece and ate it. It was the food of the gods. There I was in Ireland warm under all those comforters, reading one of my favorite authors and eating chocolate. I knew I would never forget that moment.

I remember a summer day when I was sitting on the deck. Gracie was lying on the deck beside my chair. I was idly patting her. The sun was hot but there was a cooling breeze. The birds were in and out of the feeders. I could hear only their chirping. I realized they, Gracie and I had shared serenity.

The first sip of coffee in the morning, an outside shower at the close of a summer day, a favorite song playing on the radio, a book so good I can’t put it down, Maddie purring while I pat her, the first light of dawn and the last light of the day are moments to be savored, to be remembered. They are perfection.

The morning is chilly and cloudy so I was surprised to hear more drips from the roof. Given how cold it was last night, I checked the steps for any ice before I went to get the papers. They were dry. I was safe.

I love Twizzlers, cherry Twizzlers. When last I did Peapod, I ordered a big package of them and put them in the cabinet. A few days later, I had a sudden need for Twizzlers.  I went to the cabinet to get the package and was shocked by what I found. All the tops of the sticks of licorice were missing. There were gnaw marks. At least one mouse had returned. The old-fashion mouse trap had been on the floor with a glob of peanut butter inside for weeks, even months. On Wednesday morning I happen to look down. A mouse was in the trap. I don’t think he was there long, not enough mouse poop around the trap. Because the car was buried, I had to let the mouse go by the front door. It jumped into the deep snow and disappeared, fate unknown.

When I was around eleven, my family vacationed on an island in Maine. The house was isolated, at the end of a tire rutted road with grass between the ruts. I have a whole bunch of memories from that vacation. My father bought lobsters for him and my mother. The lobsters were alive. My father put them on the kitchen floor, and when they moved, my dog Duke kept barking at them. We stood around watching the dog and the lobsters and laughing. I figure the lobsters went in the pot, but I don’t remember that.

There was a sunroom off the kitchen. I remember a rocking chair and a bookcase. In that bookcase I found Robert Louis Stevenson’s A Child’s Garden of Verses. I sat, rocked and read that book cover to cover. I fell in love with poetry. I was amazed by Robert Louis Stevenson. He understood me as if he had been reading my mind.

The house got close, too many of us and too few private places. I took my book and went to read in the car. It was pouring so I ran. I stretched out on the back seat surrounded by the sound of the rain hitting the car. I read, and I fell asleep. I was there the whole afternoon until my father came to check on me.

My parent’s devised a treasure hunt. We followed the clues and ran from place to place. I remember a clue stuck inside a rotted tree lying on the ground. Our last clue led us to an old barn which was falling apart. A side of it was hanging. It was a great old barn, one perfect for later exploration. Our treasures sat right by the front opening. There they were, easy to find Hershey bars, the traditional ones. We were thrilled.

These memories sit in my memory drawer as clear as if they are new. I can close my eyes and see the house, the rocking chair and those Hershey bars.

This has been the most leisurely of mornings. When I woke up, I stayed in bed and finished my book then I came downstairs, got the papers and my coffee and read each paper from front to back. I then checked my e-mail and turned on MSNBC. That held my attention until the screen went black. That held my attention even more. The TV was on but the cable had disappeared. I checked on-line, and the Comcast page said problems in my area. I called my friend who lives in my area, down the street, and she has TV. I started a chat with Comcast but it disappeared so here I am.

Today is simply lovely. It is 40˚so the snow is melting. I am surrounded by the sounds of constant drips from the roof. I had my front door open to the sun for a long while until the sun started moving around my house on its way to the back, to the west.

Today is one of those quiet days I love. It’s a book day, a get cozy on the couch and read day. It’s a stay in the house and look at the world through the window day.

One of my prized travel possessions is a small book called JUST POINT! I bought it when I went to Russia in 1972 as I had no hope of pronouncing words I couldn’t read. The book is filled with pictures divided into categories. In the gifts section are pictures of leiderhosen, clocks, fans, lighters and statues, none of which I have ever bought, but it’s nice to know they’re handy just in case. There is a tobacco section should I ever feel the need for a cigar or a pipe. Ice is pictured in a bucket, and the phone still has a dial. Even the parts of a cow has its own page should I desire a specific cut of meat. I can travel by train, ship or airplane and point to what I need. A toilet seems to a prominent picture on several pages. For that I’m glad. In most of the pictures, people seem to be having a really great time. I especially like the smiling couple atop the elephant in the transportation section. He has a cigar and she’s wearing a hat. In that section, I get to point at the elephant, a rowboat, a canoe, a gondola, a sleigh, horses, a mountain tram or a camel. The automobile has its own section.

The emergency section is my favorite and it covers just about every contingency. A hand is being burned, hit by a nail and caught in a door. There’s a dog biting that same hand and some bees stinging it as well. I love the picture of a huge rock hitting a foot clad in high heels. Luckily for me there’s a picture of someone falling. I keep a sticky on that page. I can point to a sunburn, something in my eye and a traffic accident. Two pages are devoted to emergencies resulting from crime. There’s a pickpocket, a mugger, a camera snatcher and a suitcase thief. The last picture proves crime doesn’t pay as it is a policeman hauling away a criminal.

When I go where English is most decidedly a foreign language seldom spoken, this handy book will be safely packed in my carry-on. I can hardly wait to be in a place where I have to open a page and point. Page 19, however, will be skipped. It’s the one with the smiling beets and the Lima beans.

I know it is Wednesday, my usually quiet day, but I figured you were wondering what has been going on here in the land of sand dunes and beaches. At 1:15 yesterday the electricity went off for good. It had been going on and off all day so I was hoping that it would be back. Nope, that was the end of the warmth and comfort. My cell phone had no service so I was unable to communicate with anybody. My neighbor came over to check and make sure I was okay and to see if I need anything. I was glad to see him. I assured him that despite everything all was well.

We didn’t get anywhere near the amount of snow which was predicted. It is to difficult to figure exactly how much as the wind blew it all over there place. The snow is really high in some spots and barely covers the ground in others. For that I am thankful.

Last night I read until my fingers were too cold to turn the pages. I got under a down comforter and got warmer. I fell asleep until nine. I looked around the neighborhood. There were no lights next door so I figured they went to a motel or some other warm spot. A couple of neighbors had lanterns. One neighbor who is always awake most of the night had lights. He obviously has a generator. Now I want one. I read a bit more while wrapped in the comforter then fell asleep again until three. The house by then was about 59˚, and Maddie and I were cold. I fell asleep again. When I woke up this morning, the house was down to 51˚. I just couldn’t stay warm so I added afghans to my comforter. They helped. Poor Maddie’s fur was really cold to the touch. I put her on the comforter and build a bit of it around her. She is 18 1/2 so I worried, but she did just fine.

My friend arrived with coffee and chocolate cookies, the foods of the gods, just as the electricity came back on. It will take a while for the heat to warm the house.

No trees went down. The birds were in and out of the feeders even at the height of the storm, and Maddie and I are fine. All is right with my world!

I am going to my friend’s house for soup and company. I’m confident now that Maddie will be okay as will the house. I can already feel the heat.

I woke up this morning to a deep blue sky and a bright, eye squinting sun, but I was not taken in by the glory of the morning as the third nor’easter is heading this way. The weatherman says it will be a twenty-four hour event, and during that time it will dump 12-18 inches snow on us. That’s right. This time we get snow. The winds will blow as high as 60 miles per hour. The storm will start tonight around eleven.

I will join the rush to the supermarket. I need light cream, bread and cat food. I’m also thinking I need chocolate. It calms fears, gives comfort and chases away the blues. It even makes a nor’easter bearable.

The snow is almost magical, mesmerizing. When I was a kid, I used to watch it fall from inside my house out the picture window. A street light shined and highlighted the flakes. I could see them fall gently or be blown sideways from the wind. Now I turn on my back light and watch through the storm door. I keep track of the amount of snow as it piles on the top of the deck rail.

Last night as I was lying in bed, I kept hearing a sound I didn’t know. It was a muted scratching sound as if from behind a wall. It was intermittent. I had no guesses as to what it was. It was too loud for a mouse. It wasn’t a branch as there are none which touch the house. I had a couple removed last spring. They scraped my bedroom window. Maddie never comes upstairs so it wasn’t the pitter patter of little cat’s feet. I ran out of guesses and never figured it out, but it didn’t matter. I fell asleep anyway.

Because of the storm coming, I have to fill the bird feeders. I bought sunflower seeds, their favorite. I also have some mixed seeds I throw down under the deck for the doves who are ground feeders and for the spawns of Satan. I have suet for the woodpeckers. Maybe that’ll keep them from pecking holes in the back of my little library though it didn’t before.

By the time it starts to snow I’ll be ready and probably munching on chocolate. I’m thinking it might just be a rabbit, ears first.