Archive for the ‘Musings’ category
March 21, 2017
Today is a wonder. It is bright and warmish, almost springlike. I stood outside on the deck for a while watching Gracie, but I got a bit chilly so I came back inside. She stayed outside. Both doors are open. The sun is streaming through the front door working its way to the back, to the south. A day like today recharges my batteries. I have a long to-do list, but I have already crossed off two chores. Granted, they were quick and easy, but I still feel accomplished.
I figure my energy is a reflection of the warmth and the sunlight. Winter days make it easy to do nothing but lie on the couch under something cozy and read or watch television, but I’d feel guilty wasting a day like today.
When I was a kid, I loved to go miniature golfing. It was at Hago Harrington’s where the windmill was my nemesis. It had three lanes at the bottom leading from under the mill to the green. I don’t know how many times I missed them all. I still remember the thud sound of the ball hitting the wooden windmill, not the lanes. It was frustrating. My favorite had a slope which, if played right, dropped the ball right into the hole. On the last hole, a hole in one got you a free play. Hago Harrington’s is still there.
On the way to the beach yesterday, I saw a couple of houses still lit with Christmas lights. The colors lit up the darkness. I have new lights, all white bulbs, I need to put on the gate trailing the new star I bought. I also have a multi-colored set for the deck rail. They are on my to-do list. My neighbor will be glad. She called me a while back to say how much she loved my lights.
I’ve been watching CSI: New York on Netflix. They have a plethora of dead bodies, a necessity for the crime lab. After watching murder after murder, I’ve decided that being a murder victim would be the perfect role. There are no lines to learn so all I’d have to do is lie down and try not to breathe or blink. Sounds easy to me.
Categories: Musings
Tags: a bit chilly, Christmas lights, CSI: New York, dead body, deck, energy, hole in one, Miniature golf, recharge batteries, springlike, sun, to do list, warmish, windmill
Comments: 6 Comments
March 20, 2017
Happy Spring!
Good reasons are responsible for the lateness of my musings today. First off is Miss Gracie. I grabbed her as she started to fall going up the stairs. I was filling Maddie’s dish on the stairs so Gracie tried to go by me but lost her footing. We went up the stairs, got to my room, and she was hesitant to jump to the bed. I helped. She tried to settle down but just couldn’t. Finally, I grabbed my pillow and a blanket, took Gracie downstairs, and we both slept on the couch. She snored so I knew she felt better. On the first day of spring every year, my friends and I go the beach to welcome the sun. We sing Here Comes the Sun and Rockin’ Robin. We recite a poem by Frost, Two Tramps in Mudtime.
The sunrise was at 6:28. It was a cold, windy early morning. We sat in the car facing the east and waited. When we realized clouds were hiding the sun, we stayed in the car to sing our welcome. We watched seagull after seagull carrying breakfast then dropping it on the parking lot. We figured they were opening small crabs. We saw geese along the shoreline and ducks in the marshes. It was an amazingly high tide. The water in the marsh was all the way to the edge of the road. We didn’t get the sun, but the clouds were jaw-droppingly colorful. Red and orange spread across the sky in all directions strikingly set against the white of the puffy clouds. My friend Clare braved the wind and cold to get our shells, a first day of spring tradition. We stayed a while then went to breakfast, another tradition.
When I got home, I took Gracie out then settled on the couch and slept over two hours. When I woke up, I put on MSNBC to watch the hearing questioning James Comey and Admiral Mike Rogers. That is still holding my attention., makes me hopeful
Today will have a high of 44˚. I’m thinking that’s hardly spring, but I am hopeful. Spring does that to me. It makes me hopeful.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Beach, breakfast, Clouds, cold and windy, dusks, geese, MSNBC, seagulls, Singing, spring, stairs, sunrise
Comments: 4 Comments
March 19, 2017
When I woke up around nine, the snow was just starting. Because of the wind, the fluffies were coming from different directions, from the north and south. Then the snow suddenly disappeared, but it’s back now, small flakes tossed by the wind. I doubt it will last long enough to accumulate.
I didn’t go out yesterday. I had no motivation. Today, though, I have a list of weird items. I need a bulb for my bathroom nightlight, an extension cord, and a plastic container for my snowmen. I’m putting them away for the season. I think they jinxed me.
I remember my first pair of nylon stockings. In those days I had to wear a garter belt. The back snaps were always the hardest to attach. I remember sometimes one would swing back and whack my leg. Pantyhose is one of the greatest inventions of the 20th century.
I never get gussied up anymore. I don’t go anywhere demanding gussy. The closest I get to dress up is coordinating the color of my pants with a clean shirt. That works no matter the season: long sleeves in winter, short sleeves in summer; corduroy in winter, cotton in summer; shoes and socks in winter, sandals in summer. I don’t even own a pair of panty hose. I do have three dresses: two flowered dresses for summer, one green dress for winter.
I don’t wear my winter jacket much. My sweatshirts are usually enough, but I do have the warmest sweater, blue with snowflakes, the sort which used to be called après skiing, for single digit temperatures. I have several pairs of mittens, but I don’t remember the last time I wore them. I have earmuffs and knit caps. My mother would be pleased.
I love Mad Magazine. I used to buy it every month. I remember the Alfred E. Newman for president drive. Mad taught me about satire and parodies and thinking for myself. I didn’t understand it all because I was young, but as I got older, I learned what it all meant. Spy versus Spy was a favorite of mine. Sometimes the white spy won and other times the black spy won. I believe that Mad Magazine helped form my politics and those of my generation. “What, me worry?”
Categories: Musings
Tags: Alfred E. Newman, Après ski, black hat, Dresses, errands, gussy, knit caps, list, Mad Magazine, mittens, nylons garter belt, pants, sandals, shirt, shoes, Snow, snowmen, spy versus spy, sweatshirts, white hat, Wind, winter coat
Comments: 9 Comments
March 18, 2017
Huzzah! im6 got a copy in his e-mail. Here it is!!
Monday is the first day of spring. On Sunday the cape may get 5-8 inches of snow. I’m thinking that’s an up yours from Mother Nature. What is even worse is today is warmer than the last few days, in the 40’s, lulling us into a false sense of flowers, scented air, lunches on the deck and the end of bulky clothes.
When I woke up, it was sunny. The dark blue sky was clear. Since then clouds have begun taking over, and the blue is disappearing. I have some errands, but before I leave I need to get outside to fill the bird feeders.
My yard got a spring cleaning today. All the wood left from the fallen pine tree is gone, the lawn and gardens have been raked, the backyard has been cleared of all the limbs and branches which fell this winter, and my deck has been tidied.
When I was a kid, weather like today’s was prime bicycle weather. I’d dress accordingly with as little as I could get away with, haul my bike out of the cellar and take off down the forbidden hill hoping my father wouldn’t see me, but I always knew there was the chance bike treads on the grassy hill would give me away. I didn’t care. I liked the hill.
We didn’t have much money when I was growing up, but I didn’t know that. I had everything most kids had back then. I had skates and a sled for winter and my bike, my all seasons ride. For Christmas one year, I got a transistor radio. It was the Christmas of radios as my friends also each got one. I took that radio everywhere, and it wasn’t small. It was the size of a hard-covered book. The clothes I got for Christmas were always the fashion rage, the same styles all my friends were wearing. My mother knew exactly what to buy.
When I think back to growing up, I figure I got the best parents. They were fun, involved and generous. They were loving. I got the luck of the draw.
Categories: Musings
Comments: 10 Comments
March 18, 2017
I don’t know what happened, but after writing prose worthy of a Pulitzer, I couldn’t find the entry, today’s musings. I had hit publish, and it didn’t; instead, the post disappeared. I checked drafts and it wasn’t there where it should have been saved automatically. My post is gone. I’m thinking I was hacked by the Russians and expect soon enough my words will find the light of day in cyrillic with a For Your Eyes Only cover sheet. I don’t think the British had anything to do with this.
Sorry there is no post today. I just don’t remember enough to replicate it.
Categories: Musings
Comments: 6 Comments
March 17, 2017
Happy St. Patrick’s Day!
The day is sunny and beautiful though still chilly. I was out on the deck watching Gracie. She ran with wild abandonment through the backyard. I could hear the crunch of the dead leaves and small branches as she ran. I got cold and went back inside. She stayed out a bit longer. It must have been exhausting as she and Maddie are taking their early afternoon naps.
St. Patrick has always been my favorite saint. I went to St. Patrick’s grammar school, belonged to St. Patrick’s parish, and when I was 10, I started marching in St. Patrick’s Shamrocks, a drill team. I was in the juniors and only had practice Saturday mornings at the armory just beyond Stoneham Square. The armory was a wonderful old brick building. On the first floor were military banners and flags and, in one room, a pool table. Upstairs was a large open room where we practiced. It was smaller than the fields for the summer competitions so we learned our maneuver in pieces which were put together once we got outside on the field. We practiced twice a week, Tuesdays and Thursdays and, once the season started, some Sunday mornings before we left for the competitions. We also marched in parades, including the St. Patrick’s Day parade in South Boston. We were naturals as we had a shamrock in the middle of our uniform blouses and between the skirt and blouse was a sash with one bit of yellow, a shamrock. Our colors were green and white. The crowds watching the parade were huge. We got lots of applause.
My parents always celebrated St. Patrick’s Day. Some years they’d have a party, and the house would be filled with people. There was always lots of singing at every one of my parents’ parties especially on St. Patrick’s Day. The kitchen was the party hub. I can still picture my dad and my uncle Jack standing together by the table with an arm on each other’s shoulders as they sang When Irish Eyes are smiling. Their voices were filled with such joy and exuberance. That memory from so long ago is one of my favorites.
Categories: Musings
Tags: armory building, drill team, parades, party singing, practice, South Boston, St. Pat's Shamrocks, St. Patrick's Day, Stoneham
Comments: 10 Comments
March 16, 2017
Last night I was freezing though I was only outside for about 5 minutes. It was Gracie’s last trip before bed. She sniffed the air, checked out a couple of sounds and walked around outside the fence. She didn’t seem at all inclined to do her duty. I begged. She ignored me. I begged again. She sniffed the ground, but that was it, no squatting. It was the end for me. I brought her inside. We went to bed. She slept the whole night, but I got up once.
When I was a kid, my room was upstairs on the left. The bathroom was also on the left. The stairs were a quick right turn from my room. In the small hallway outside my door was the dirty clothes hamper and the linen closet recessed in the wall. When I was 10, I walked out of my room and turned right. I fell down the stairs. You’d think the sound of me falling would wake someone up. It didn’t. Either I fell quietly or my family slept like the dead. That is an important memory for me, a milestone of sorts. It was my first fall down stairs, the first of many.
Yesterday we didn’t go to the dump. It was because of the weather. The dump is generally cold, and if it is a windy day, like yesterday, the dump is as cold as Siberian steppes. The wind whips and freezes you to the bone. This morning I brought the trash to the car. I decided to bite the bullet and go despite the cold, 33˚ which will be the high today.
My front yard is still covered in branches from the huge pine tree branch which fell on the lawn. The small stones from my front parking space are on the street and in the garden. They were moved around by the plow. My back yard has several different size branches lying where they fell during this winter. One skinny pine tree breathed its last. Another leans and its future is doubtful. Winter is harsh.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Bathroom, bedroom, cold, doggy duty, dump, fallen branches, falling down stairs, Lawn, outside, small branches, Snow, stairs, Stones, stones in the road, sun, winter
Comments: 4 Comments
March 14, 2017
Today is miserable. The snow started early. When I first woke up at 9, I checked out the window and saw snow blowing north to south. I went back to sleep. When I woke up at 10, it had just started raining. I went out to get the papers and yesterday’s mail. Gracie was with me on her leash. She hated it and looked beaten walking close to the ground with her ears down. The street was pure slush, snow topped by rain. I left footprints right down to the street. Gracie finally peed then ran to the door. She should have stayed out as I know she still has more to do, but I wanted in as well. I was soaked. Later she wanted out again but didn’t take the plunge. The wind was ferocious so Gracie just backed into the house. We did that twice, both to no avail. She is sleeping now. I hope she enjoys her nap. My hair is still wet.
The first load of laundry is in the dryer. I threw the bags down the cellar stairs last night so I wouldn’t have to look at them anymore. This morning I decided to bite the bullet and do the laundry. I found a missing gray sock on the floor in front of the dryer so I reunited the pair. Two other socks wait for partners. I first thought them a pair but realized in the light one is black and the other dark blue. There must be another exact pair in today’s laundry.
On the Peace Corps Ghana Facebook page are pictures of current trainees doing their laundry. They are all sitting on the porch edge with buckets of clothes in front of them. Clean laundry hangs on lines behind them. I got a chuckle out of that bucket brigade. All through training, my group found Ghanaian women to pay to do our laundry. During the first two weeks of training, the women were from Winneba where we were staying. You gave laundry to them one day, and it came back the next, ironed and folded. The only exception was undergarments. Those we had to wash ourselves. I hated bucket laundry. In retrospect, I figure maybe a smidgeon of that feeling is responsible for two bags of laundry sitting in the hall for nearly a week. Maybe, though, it is just laziness, but I suspect running out of clean undergarments forced my hand and prompted my memories.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bowing trees, buckets, dryer, Hand washing, Laundry, lone socks, miserable day, missing socks, Peace Corps Ghana, rain, slush, socks, storm, Wind
Comments: 6 Comments
March 13, 2017
Today is bright and sunny and will even reach 34˚, but I’m not taken in, not beguiled by the brilliance of the sun. I’m on to Mother Nature and her tricks. I know all that sunlight is just a cover for what’s coming: more snow. This time, though, we’ll get less. The Boston area will get clobbered with up to 2 feet while down here we’ll only get 2-4 inches, a mixture of snow and rain. For some strange reason, though, I feel cheated. I’m thinking it should rain or snow. A combination is just a mess. Mother Nature should know better.
All my icicles are melting in the sun. I can hear the drops. The road is wet from melting snow. Along the sides of the road, small puddles have formed from the piles left by the plows. I just hope all that water doesn’t freeze.
I loud bang accompanied by the sound of a howling cat woke me up this morning. I figured the bang was a falling icicle. The cat howls every morning so nothing was wrong. I rolled over and slept another hour.
My dance card is totally empty for the week. The meeting scheduled for tomorrow has been canceled. I have a to-do list which still includes my laundry which is still leaning against the cellar door. I guess I’ll work on finishing the list or at least get the laundry done. I admit I’m tired of looking at it.
I want some elves like the shoemaker had. I want to wake up to clean, folded laundry, the aromas of breakfast baking in the oven, and of coffee perking. When I get downstairs, I’ll find the table set with flowered dishes and a small clear vase with a couple of daffodils. The elves will have left, but I’ll see small footprints in the snow leading to and from the house then just disappearing.
Too bad wishing it away doesn’t get my laundry done.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 2-4 inches, 31˚, breakfast, dafs, flowered dishes, howling cat, icicles, loud bang, rain, shoemaker and elves, Snow, storm, sunny, waking up
Comments: 6 Comments
March 12, 2017
Today is a repeat of yesterday. It is cold, bitterly cold. The day is pretty with a bright sun and a deep blue sky. The icicles hanging off the front of my house are melting. When I opened the door to get the papers, an icicle broke. I was reminded of a murder mystery I read where the weapon was an icicle which melted, and poof, the evidence was gone. I got the papers and stopped to check out the house. One of the icicles is long and very thick. It could be the weapon.
A snow storm is coming our way. Alexa says a 77.7 % chance on Tuesday. She also predicted close to 5 inches of the beastly white stuff, but that amount deserves only a wave of the hand dismissal. Is that the best you can do, Mother Nature?
I love the sound of crusty snow breaking as you walk across it, especially at night when the moon and the stars are shining. There are no sounds except the ones my feet make. My footsteps echo. Few people venture out on a freezing winter’s night. I always feel like I’m the only one awake.
If I were a movie, I’d be a Hallmark Movie. I’m a sucker for happy endings, and every Hallmark movie has one. In December, I was on a sugar overload. I got to eat cookies and watch at least one Hallmark Christmas movie a day.
My second choice, if I were a movie, would be a science fiction movie. I’d throw in some sort of disease, maybe an alien or two, a post-apocalyptic world where the cities are in ruins and heroes of every ilk who wear the same clothes throughout the entire movie. The aliens would lose. They usually do, even in my movie.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bitterly cold, Christmas movies, crunchy snow, footsteps, Hallmark movie, icicles, murder weapon, night, science fiction movies, Snow
Comments: 8 Comments
