Archive for the ‘Musings’ category
September 22, 2017
Last night the wind sounded like a freight train. I know it’s a cliche, but it perfectly describes what I was hearing. The wind blew in gales. In between the gales it was quiet if only by comparison. I think it was the wildest wind since the start of the storm. This is day four of the remnants of Jose. Earlier this morning it was raining loudly enough to hear. At other times the rain has been misty, quiet. The wind is still raging.
My deck and yard are filled with fallen leaves and smaller branches. Every time I go out, a few leaves are blown inside the house. All of them are shriveled and dead.
The birds are at the feeders in such numbers the sunflower and thistle feeders need to be refilled. I’ll just have to brave the rain. I don’t want to disappoint all those birds.
I did finish my errands yesterday. At the doctor’s they had snacks to thank us for getting our flu shots. I had a chocolate chip cookie and a mini-cupcake. Last night the spot where I got the shot itched a bit, and the spot hurts a little today. I’ll just have to be brave.
Last night I was cold so I grabbed a light blanket and snuggled a bit under it. This morning when I woke up the house was at 67˚. Since then, the temperature has risen a couple of degrees but not enough as I’m still a bit chilly, but I refuse to turn on the heat this early in the season. I’m still taken aback by having to use the AC the last couple of days because of the humidity. It is late for the AC and too early for the heat. Weather has gone amok.
Today is the autumn equinox, a beginning and an end: the end of summer and the beginning of fall, autumn. The nights will now be longer than the days.
When I was a kid, I loved when the leaves were falling. On our way to school, we would walk in the gutters kicking leaves and watching them fly. I remember yellow the most.
The only things on my to do list are to order groceries and finally get the laundry finished, or rather get it started. It is still upstairs. I have no ambition whatsoever, but I guess I could scare up enough energy to order groceries on line.
Rain is predicted for tomorrow as are wind gusts up to 45 MPH. Sunday, Monday and Tuesday are supposed to be sunny and in the low 70’s. I’ll believe it when I see it. All this rain has made me gloomy and skeptical.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 67˚, AC, amok, bird feeders, blown leaves, dead leaves, doctors, flu shot, Freight Train, gales, groceries, heat, Laundry, leaves, mist, raging wind, rain, to do list, weather, Wind
Comments: 8 Comments
September 21, 2017
Jose has found a home. It is sitting right over Cape Cod and bringing rain and intermittent winds. This is day three of the rain. It is also day three of gusts up to 65 MPH. Out my window, I can see my backyard trees bending and swaying and the top branches of the oak trees are whipping back and forth. Jose, now a tropical storm, will hang around for a few days more.
The winds don’t bother the birds. Five gold finches were sharing a thistle feeder and a chickadee was waiting in the wings. I had filled all the feeders a couple of days ago so I’m hoping they’ll last just a bit longer, until the rain stops.
Yesterday was thick with humidity. I turned on the AC for a while just to clear the house. This morning, even with the windows and doors closed, the house is a bit chilly. It is 64˚ out but with the rain and the dampness, it feels colder.
I have to go out later to pick up two refills of Gracie’s medications, and I’m going to get my flu shot. These are the least thrilling errands ever.
The only problem with subtitled movies is I have to pay attention. When I watch TV, I like to be doing something else as well. Right now The Brainiac is on, a 1962 old B&W movie about Baron Vitelius. The movie is from Mexico and is in Spanish with subtitles so I can’t write Coffee and watch at the same time. Vitelius is burned at the stake by the Mexican Inquisition. Before he dies, he vows to return with the next passage of the comet seen as he is burning and slay the descendants of his accusers. Vitelius returns and takes advantage of his abilities as a sorcerer to carry out his threat: he is able to change at will into the hairy monster of the title in order to suck out the brains of his victims with a long forked tongue. He is also able to render his enemies motionless or force them to act against their wills. The special effects are awful at best. The comet is a blurry picture as are the rest of the backgrounds. The telescope looks like a skinny old muffler. The comet lands with a thud and then turns into the creature, Brainiac. The monster’s clothes have burn marks. It did after all arrive in a meteor. I keep getting drawn to this awful movie.
When Gracie was young, she was a runner. She’d take every opportunity to get loose, and when she did, I could never catch her. She played keep away. She’d stop and wait, and when I got close, she’d run. My neighbors, friends and even complete strangers easily caught her. She went right to them, even to climbing into my friend’s car. Now that Gracie is so much older and has unsteady back legs, she doesn’t even need a leash. She walks ahead of me into the backyard and right to the stairs when she’s done. This morning I took Gracie in and out by the driveway as I was afraid the back steps would be slippery. She walked ahead of me and waited by the door for me to catch up. She and I are both too old to run.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 64˚, birds, damp, feeders, flu shot, go out, GRac ie, gusts, humidity, JOse, keep away, oak tree, rain, refills, runner, swaying
Comments: 12 Comments
September 19, 2017
The window by my head was open. When I first heard the rain falling, it was so gentle I thought it might have been a breeze rustling the leaves, but when the sound continued, I knew it had to be rain. It stopped and started again and again, and that’s been the morning. I opened and shut the window a few times as the dampness was chilly. Finally I grabbed the afghan and left the window open. Gracie joined me and we both fell back to sleep.
Tropical storm conditions are expected on the Cape within 36 hours. What is left of Jose will bring rain, 2 to 4 inches, and heavy winds of around 65 MPH. The surf will be high, and there will be rip currents and coastal flooding. I’m going out to the deck later to take down the decorations hanging from the trees. I’ll leave the bird feeders until the last. I have to go out later as I have no dog food. She had her morning can but will be looking for more this evening. Besides, I need bread.
The flies are still here, but their numbers are far smaller. I see two on the ceiling in this room, and I killed four buzzing around a dining room window pane. Three others were set free. They had been on the door screen. This was quite the infestation. I’m trying to figure out what offense of mine has caused such wrath.
It is a dismal day, a dark day. I need to go to the library as I have finished the books I got last week, and I can’t imagine being housebound without books and snacks. Need I mention chocolate?
From when I was a kid, I only remember hurricane Carol. I suspect there were probably more but Carol was so exciting it still hangs around my memory drawers. I was too young to notice damage or destruction so I only remember the wind and the pelting rain. I watched out the picture window as the trees bent and the tops of the bushes seemed to touch the ground. After Carol moved on, we went outside. The streets and the yards were filled with debris, mostly branches. Some of the leaves still on the trees had died; they were shriveled and brown. Some of the trees had healthy leaves on one side and dead ones on the other.
Tomorrow is my Coffee day off, but if Jose lives up to its hype, I’ll keep you updated.
Categories: Musings
Tags: After the hurricane moved on, Carol, Chocolate, damp, dark, dismal, flies, heavy winds, hurricane, infestation, leaves, open window, rain, raindrops, snacks, tropical storm warning, Window
Comments: 12 Comments
September 18, 2017
About a month ago my friend’s house was infiltrated by flies, large, noisy flies. She sat armed and ready to smack any fly within her range of vision. I helped by doing reconnaissance. Neither of us could figure out where the flies had come from. Well, the flies have moved here so I am now suffering through the first plague of South Dennis. The flies, big, ugly flies with green bodies are all over the house, at least down stairs here where I can see them. I am also armed with a rolled up newspaper. Last night I counted ten of them roosting, sort of roosting, on my ceiling. Any that alighted on the window or any other surface was unceremoniously dispatched. By the time I went to bed there were only three on the ceiling, but then came this morning. I have slain at least five of them and shooed three or four more out the front door, but more are by the closed windows in the living room hoping to escape. I don’t see any here in the den. Perhaps the bodies of their comrades are warning them to stay away (I know they aren’t sentient, but I can still hold on to a false hope).
I abided flies in Ghana. They were a part of living there. Few were in my house, but the market was filled with flies. I had to ignore them or I would never have bought meat. Ponder that for a while.
My laundry is being brought down here where it will sit leaning against the cellar door until I get tired of looking at it. From past experiences, that could be a while. When I worked, I had to do all my errands and chores on the weekends when I had the most time. Everything always got done. Now I figure I have eons of time so I procrastinate.
Yesterday I went to my neighbors’ son’s tenth birthday party. It was great fun, and I got to sit and chat with my other neighbors whom I usually just see driving by my house when we just wave at each other. The food at the party was spectacular: tasty chicken wings, sausages, steak, white rice, plantains and Brazilian chicken salad. The last two dishes came from The Brazilian Grill in Hyannis. My neighbor always gets plantain knowing how much I like it. We all sang Happy Birthday to Branden. First we all sang in English then the Brazilian guests sang in Portuguese. What I like is everyone always claps during the singing of each song. We all got to drink Caipirinhas, Brazil’s national cocktail. It is made with cachaça (there) and vodka (here), sugar and lime. The limes are muddled with brown sugar then ice and vodka are added. I had a few. We all did.
I have nothing on my dance card for today except maybe finish the book I’m reading so I can go to the library tomorrow and get more. I did fill the bird feeders this morning so I do have a sense of accomplishment. I’ll take that as enough for today.
Categories: Musings
Tags: big, birthday party, chicken wings, dispatched, green flies, Laundry, plague of flies, plantain, rolled newspaper, smack, steak, still there are flies
Comments: Comments Off on “Birds are the eyes of heaven, and flies are the spies of hell.”
September 17, 2017
I apologize for yesterday, and I thank you for worrying as I know I usually let you know. I slept later than I intended and had time for getting dressed, a quick cup of coffee, feeding the animals and taking Gracie out. It was International Festival Day at the local college, and I was at the Peace Corps table all day. Luckily I had packed what I wanted to use to decorate the table so I just grabbed the stuff and left. When I got home, I napped.
A couple of people who stopped at the PC table were surprised to find Peace Corps still existed. I guess we don’t do a great job advocating for ourselves. One man stopped and asked me if I knew who he was. I did, just by his question. Twice before I had met him, asked his name and country of service. Each time he answered a bit testily that he was with me in Ghana. I still didn’t recognize him this time either but said, “Gary?” and he smiled. I had guessed right.
It is a bright, beautiful day now, but it started out foggy, a fog which hovered around the lower limbs of the trees and atop the roads, covered the bridge and hung just above the ocean. When I was a kid, that was the scariest fog. It hid the sidewalks. Noises were amplified and footsteps echoed. We’d run if we heard someone behind us. We never knew who or, even worse, what was behind us. It could have been the man with the hook or some mass murderer looking for another victim so we ran as fast as we could. It never occurred to us the footsteps might be from something benign. In the fog it could only have been something scary and evil.
The paper today had a page devoted to Marshmallow Fluff which is celebrating its 100th anniversary. About 7 million pounds of Fluff is sold each year which is mind boggling given how light Fluff is. Fluff has only 4 ingredients: corn syrup, sugar, dried egg white and vanilla. When I was growing up, we always had Fluff in the cabinet because a fluffernutter was a quick snack: thin on the peanut butter, thick on the Fluff. The only problem was being careful not to tear the soft bread when slathering the Fluff. 50% of all Fluff is sold in New England and Upstate New York. I still keep Fluff in the cabinet. I never know when I might just want a quick snack.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 7 million pounds, eerie, fog, footsteps, ghosts, International; Festival, Marshmallow Fluff, noises, Peace Corps, running homr, serial killer, sun, the hook
Comments: 14 Comments
September 15, 2017
It is sunny and breezy, a strong enough breeze to chase the earlier humidity away. It rained last night but not much. The temperature will stay in the mid 70’s all day. Gracie is restless and already panting, a sign the day is too warm for her. I have given her treats, pulled her onto the couch and taken her outside, but she’s still not happy. I can’t take the staring. Maddie too is impatient. She keeps meowing at me. I give her treats but they’re not enough. Both these animals feel far too entitled, my fault I know.
I got most of my errands done yesterday but not the dump. I was gone a couple of hours in and out of stores so when I got home, I was too hot and tired for the dump. It will have to be today as I have no time tomorrow.
The paper explained that older people don’t have the capacity to adjust to temperatures as well as younger people because old people don’t sweat as much, and many take medication that affects body temperature. I mustn’t be at that stage yet as I was sweating yesterday. All my life I have been a head sweater (as in one who sweats not in reference to a garment to be worn). That might already have been obvious to you, but sweater just didn’t look right to me: hence the aside. I’m glad I’m not a pit sweater. That always looks gross to me.
When I was packing for Ghana, my mother and I looked for a strong antiperspirant knowing how hot it gets in Africa. We found one with maximum protection which keeps you smelling great for 48 hours. Who could have asked for more? Well, I used it and ended up with boils under each armpit, a carbuncle, meaning a cluster of boils, a word I wish I didn’t have to learn. I couldn’t even lift my arms to write on the board. I didn’t connect with the deodorant right away as Ghana has all sorts of diseases, but I stopped using the deodorant anyway. The boils did their thing and eventually broke. I wrote the Peace Corps doctor asking for information. He figured it could be an infection or even my deodorant and said to stop using it. I had guessed right. After the boils finally disappeared, I used powder. It didn’t provide 48 hour protection, but I didn’t care. Those boils were the worst.
Categories: Musings
Tags: antiperspirant, boils, breezy, dump, entitled animals, Ghana, mid 70's, older people, outside, Peace Corps Ghana, sunny, sweating, treats
Comments: 6 Comments
September 14, 2017
The humidity is making the day sticky and uncomfortable. Last night was the same. I ended up cooling the house by turning on the AC. Both Gracie and I slept comfortably.
Today is sometimes cloudy and sometimes sunny. Rain is a possibility, a holdover from Irma. I don’t mind as it hasn’t rained in a while.
Yesterday I filled all the bird feeders and washed off the deck and the deck furniture with the hose nozzle on jet. It was a power wash of sorts. The birds had left calling cards.
Today I have errands. The lens fell out of my glasses so I need to get them fixed. The old pair I’m using sits at an angle on my ears so I have to keep tilting my head when I read. It’s a bit disconcerting. I also need a few grocery items with toilet paper topping the list.
My house is still dusty, and I still don’t care.
Gracie is just fine. She scared the heck out of me last night when she barked at me. She had been standing beside me and staring for a while so I had blocked her out. The bark made me jump. It was an I’m hungry bark even though she had already eaten dinner and her after dinner treats. I tried to ignore her but it didn’t work. I got the paw, twice. I fed her another small can, and she was fine. I bow to her whims and wants.
I like ice cream. My favorite changes with my moods. Coconut was a favorite last summer. Couple it with hot fudge or caramel, both salted or unsalted, and it’s food bliss. Lately I’ve bought mint chocolate chip gelato. It needs no enhancements. Vanilla by itself is boring to me. It begs for toppings like hot fudge or peanut butter cups and maybe some jimmies (sprinkles to those of you not in New England). I like a sugar cone. It adds to the ice cream, but a sugar cone often ends up with a hole in the bottom. That means licking the ice cream from the top and the bottom. It’s a talent to keep the drips away. I’m very talented.
Categories: Musings
Tags: barking, bird poop, cloudy, coconut, glasses, Gracie, hot, humid, ice cream, jet spray, minty chocolate chip, power wash, rain, sunny, tilt, Toilet paper, vanilla
Comments: 7 Comments
September 12, 2017
Alexa woke me up this morning as I had an early library board meeting. When I heard her dulcet tones, I said thank you without thinking. Alexa said, “You’re welcome.” I’m going to start calling her Hal.
Today and tomorrow are predicted to be perfect fall days. It will be in the high 70’s today and down to the 50’s at night. Tomorrow will be about the same but a little warmer when the sun goes down.
The flowers on my front fence are bee magnets. When I went through the gate this morning, I brushed against the flowers and disturbed a few bees who then flew around Gracie and me. She didn’t care, but I was a bit unnerved because when I was a kid, I was stung by a bee. We were in Maine on vacation. The house where we stayed was up the hill from the ocean and was surrounded by trees, but if you walked a bit, you came to fields overgrown with wildflowers. One day we explored. As we walked through the fields, bees rose from the flowers. I swear there were hundreds, but I admit the sting probably skewed my perspective. One bee flew around me and then stung me on the head. I yelled, well, maybe I screamed. I said I’d been stung. My parents checked my head and said the bee wasn’t there. I knew it was so I yelled again. They rechecked. They found the bee which I swear had bitten me two or three times. I can still see that field in my mind’s eye. I’n not afraid of bees despite that experience, but I don’t like them either.
I’ve mentioned how much I hate the Dole ad about the mixed doubles fruit cup drainers who are assailed by the Dole sipper who tells her husband, “Oh, they’re drainers.” As she says this, the sipper’s face shows perfectly the distain in her voice. This commercial has disappeared, but the sipper is back. This time she is in the aquarium, and she is still a know-it-all who just happens to have an extra Dole juice cup on hand to give her drainer friend when she has her fruit epiphany.
Yesterday I took a nap and stayed around the house so today I have yesterday’s errands That’s it for my list. That’s it for the day’s activities.
Categories: Musings
Tags: alexa, bee sying, bees, Dole drainers, Dole sippers, drainers, flowers, Maine, perfect weather
Comments: 4 Comments
September 11, 2017
I’m late this morning. I slept in and so did Gracie. She sleeps in her crate for most of the night then joins me on the couch at no particular time. Today it was close to 7:30. I helped her get on the couch then got comfy and went back to sleep. That has become our daily ritual.
Last night was an afghan night, and the chill is still in the air mostly in the back of my house, in the shade. I wear a sweatshirt now while I wait for Gracie to finish in the yard. While I was outside, I noticed the bird feeders were empty so I filled two with sunflower seeds and another with thistle. Immediately, chickadees went for the sunflower and gold finches for the thistle. They arrived so quickly I figured they were hanging around on branches waiting and hoping. I’m glad I didn’t disappoint.
My dance card is pretty empty. I do have two errands which I’ll finish this afternoon. My inside plants need watering so that’s on my other list. The dust in this room is almost bad enough to force me to clean it but not yet. Maybe in a few days. I espouse the maxim that dusting today still means dusting tomorrow. It is a never ending chore.
When I was a kid, my mother cleaned the house while I was in school. It was a miracle of sorts. I’d leave for school and when I got home, the house was clean, the dishes washed and the beds made. My mother was like the shoemaker’s elves. The only chores I ever saw her do were cooking dinner and doing dishes at night and taking clothes off the line in the backyard.
We lived in a duplex so we shared the backyard with our immediate neighbor. We each had our own clotheslines, either two or three apiece. I forget which. The end of the lines were attached to metal poles which were green but always seemed to need paint. I remember the silver-colored metal underneath the green. Below the lines was pitch or what we called hot top. It was square-shaped except for the small walkway leading to the back door. The rest of the yard was grass. My mother kept her clothespins in a bag which attached to the line and could be slid up and down so she had easy access to the clothespins.
My mother hung the laundry upside down. I never asked her why. I just figured that’s how laundry is hung. What I remember the most are the sheets doubled over the lines. In my mind’s eye, they are all white. I can still see them billowing and flapping, and I remember the sound of the sheets in wind. I also remember running between and under the sheets. My mother always yelled at us.
Categories: Musings
Tags: afghan, bird feeders, chickadees, chilly day, clotheslines, clothespins, duplex, Dusting, errands, gold finches, late morning, Laundry, shade, sunflower seeds, thistle, watering
Comments: 8 Comments
September 10, 2017
Today is sunny but chilly. Though I have the doors and windows closed, the house still isn’t warm. Last night I woke up and grabbed for the afghan as nights are colder this time of year especially when the days are in the mid 60’s. I’ve taken to wearing a sweatshirt when I bring Gracie to the backyard. She seems better this morning, and she ate her breakfast. I just hope she keeps it.
This is my favorite time of year here on the cape. The ocean which stayed cold so long in the spring stays warmer in the fall. The cranberry bogs are red with fruit. The trees hold their leaves a bit longer thank north of us and change color later in the season, mostly to red. Dogs are allowed back on the beaches. The weather is usually sunny and a sweatshirt is more than enough to keep me warm.
When I was a kid, I never planned ahead except for the times before my birthday, Halloween and Christmas. I just took each day as it came. I knew I had five days of school, and that was the constant. What we did after school depended on the weather and the time of year. In the fall we’d bike ride or we’d skate in the parking lot which never had a car. It was up the hill from where we lived. The lot was lined into spots, but people preferred to park in front of their houses. We’d skate mostly in the middle as there was sand next to the curb surrounding the lot, and a spill meant a cut, usually a bloody cut from the grit. We’d play crack the whip with all of us in a line holding hands as the front skater moved us in circles. I hated being at the end where the force was the greatest. Ends didn’t last long.
On our bikes, we loved the grit. We’d ride on the sand, hit our brakes and skid to make an arc on sand. The key was to get your foot on the ground before the bike fell. It took some skill. I seldom fell.
Categories: Musings
Tags: afghan, bike riding, chilly, cold night, constants, crack the whip, cranberry bogs, each day, empty lot, kid, planning ahead, playing, skating, skidding
Comments: 6 Comments
keepthecoffeecoming.blog 