Archive for the ‘Musings’ category
January 23, 2017
Today is not one of my best days. My mother would say I am not up to snuff. To give you a better idea: I woke up at 9:30 and never got my first cup of coffee until 10:15. I just didn’t have the energy. I have someone who does all my yard work, a factotum who does odd jobs and plows, and a couple who clean every two weeks. Now I’m thinking I need a barista.
My Patriots gave the Steelers a bit of a football beating last night. We were on our feet more than a few times cheering their heroics on the field. Now it is on to the Super Bowl. My first thought for the big game is the menu. I’m thinking a sort of tailgating in the living room. I really wish my Dad was around so he too could cheer for his Pats and nosh with us (nosh-another one from my mother).
When I was a kid, baseball was my sport to watch mostly because it was easy to understand. The game didn’t have all the positions or plays football has. My dad watched the Giants on TV. I never did. I was a Red Sox fan. My football knowledge is much greater than it was, but I still don’t understand a lot of the responsibilities of the many positions. I understand the fundamentals of the game, and I find that’s enough.
Winter this year is weird. It is warmer. Today the high will be in the low 40’s and the low will be 38˚. It’s raining which makes it feel colder. It is also going to be extremely windy. When I was young, it was always cold walking to school. I was bundled as much as my mother could fit on me, but I swear my cheeks often went numb. They were red the entire winter. I didn’t have many colds, but I had sniffles. My nose was not a pretty sight nor, sadly, were my sleeve and mittens. Kids never carried handkerchiefs or kleenex.
My mother made the best cocoa. I drank it every winter morning. She’d dissolve the Nestle’s cocoa in some milk then add hot water to the cup. The cocoa always had bubbles on the top.
I have eaten all sorts of foods on my travels. Sometimes I had no idea what I was eating. I didn’t know the language. In some countries, I was glad I didn’t know. When I was a kid, I ate foods I’d never touch now. I ate sardines, the ones out of a can with a key on the top. I ate Spam right out of a can, also with a key on top. Those keys took a deft hand. My favorite way, favorite here used with tongue in cheek, of eating Spam was after it was fried. My mother often made us oatmeal for school day breakfasts. It wasn’t the smooth instant oatmeal they now sell. It was thick, lumpy oatmeal out of the cardboard cylinder with the Quaker on it. I never liked the lumps, but I found out that milk, a little cinnamon and lots of sugar helps the oatmeal, lumps and all, go down.
Categories: Musings
Tags: barista, cocoa, conference champs, football, football positions, mittens, not up to snuff, numb cheeks, oatmeal, Patriots, Quaker Oatmeal, Red Sox, sniffles, Spam, strange foods
Comments: 9 Comments
January 22, 2017
Today turned out to be a pretty day. It was sunny and warm, too warm for this time of year, but I’m complaining. I love sweatshirt weather in January.
When I was a kid, my mother had a great way to find out the truth. If something was found broken and no one admitted to it, my mother asked the four of us who did it. We all said we didn’t know. She didn’t believe us. She knew one of us was guilty. She told us when we lie our tongues turned black then she’d ask us to show her our tongues. The guilty party always gave himself away by refusing to show his tongue. Running to the mirror to check didn’t help. She told us only mothers could see the black tongue. We believed her. We were young.
Step on a crack, break your mother’s back. I didn’t know if that was true or not. It sort of sounded silly to me, but I didn’t want to take chances. I jumped over every crack. When I walked the railroad tracks, I jumped over every wooden tie with double zeros in the middle for the same reason. I did not want to be responsible for my mother’s broken back.
When I was in grammar school, if some other kid called me a name, I’d give the standard comeback: I know you are but what am I. There was really nowhere to go from there so it ended the name calling. Another, a more sophisticated comeback, was I’m rubber; you’re glue; whatever you say bounces off me and sticks on you. It didn’t have a comeback either.
The women’s marches were extraordinary. I watched them on MSNBC for a good part of the day. I also saw Trump’s speech at C.I.A. headquarters and Sean Spicer’s denunciation of the press in the filled press room at the White House. Words fail me. I’m angry and I’m sad.
Categories: Musings
Tags: black tongue, break your mother's back, C.I.A., lies, MSNBC, Sean Spicer, step on a crack, sunny, warm day, women's marches
Comments: 12 Comments
January 21, 2017
Today is damp and dark, uninviting. I want to do nothing. I doubt I’ll get dressed. Thus far this morning I have brushed my teeth, made coffee and read two newspapers. I am back to binging on Star Trek Voyager. I am also streaming the Women’s March. I didn’t watch the inauguration.
When I was in the eighth grade, John Kennedy was elected president. That campaign was the first time I ever had any interest in politics. A small Kennedy for President store front opened right next to Santoro’s Sub Shop. Posters were in the window. I remember going inside and getting buttons and pins. I wore them on my coat for the whole campaign. Afterwards, I put them on the bulletin board in my room. They stayed there. When I bought this house, my mother brought the board down to me. It had been in stasis since I’d left for Ghana. I was thrilled to find so many pieces of my childhood still pinned to that board. My favorite find, though, was a Kennedy for President pin with his picture on it and a larger pin which said If I were twenty-one I would vote for Kennedy. They are now on display in a frame with other buttons from other campaigns. My McGovern-Eagleton pin is there as is my Returned Peace Corps for McGovern-Shriver. Every button in that display is a historical record of my politics from 1960 to 1984 and Gary Hart.
I still have a bulletin board. It is cork, not the pink material board which hung for so long in my room. It is filled with both old and new ephemera. A chocolate Golden Tree wrapper from Ghana hangs there. There is a picture of my mother and all of us together in Colorado and one of me with my Ghanaian students from my first visit back. There is a home-made valentine I gave to my mother when I was young. She found it and brought it to me. There is a Mard-Gras mask hanging from a corner of the board. From the other top corner all the ID’s I’ve had for a variety of events are hanging. This bulletin board is also a historical record, more recent but no less interesting.
Today is a day for mac and cheese.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bulletin board, buttons and pins, damp, dark, do nothing, ephemera, John Kennedy, Kennedy for President, mac and cheese, Returned Peace Corps for McGovern-Shriver, uninviting
Comments: 16 Comments
January 20, 2017
The clock just struck one. I’m not even tired. I went up and down the TV dial and checked out Netflix, but I didn’t find anything I wanted to watch. I tried to read, but I just couldn’t settle down and pay attention. Gracie and Maddie had slept most of the night away, but Gracie just woke up, had a snack and a drink of water then climbed back on the couch to go back to sleep. In about two minutes she was snoring. I envy her.
The weather stayed lovely all day. It hit 43˚. Gracie and I did our errands. We went to the dump, and she got her nails cut at the vets then we took a ride. Gracie liked the window down.
When we got home, the alien took over my body again. The kitchen is gleaming. This sudden spurt of housecleaning has to end.
When I was a kid, I read all of the time. I visited the library just about every week in the summer and every couple of weeks in the winter. I can close my eyes and still picture the children’s side of the library. The librarian sat behind a round counter made of wood set in the middle of the room across from the door. The shelves filled with mysteries were against the wall behind her. The tables and chairs were all wooden. The chairs were spindlebacks though I didn’t know back then that’s what the style was called. Some of the chairs had arms. The tables were different lengths. I’d sit for a bit and look through books to decide which ones I wanted to read. When I was ready, I’d bring the books to the librarian who would stamp the lined sheet in the back with the due date.
I loved mysteries. My favorite detectives were Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden. The library didn’t have those books, but I’d use my fifty cent allowance to buy the Trixie Belden books and just about every birthday and Christmas I’d be given new Nancy Drews. I loved that they were girls solving mysteries. Nancy drove a roadster. I had to look up what kind of a car a roadster was. Trixie was much younger, closer to my age. I always envied their sleuthing. I would have loved stumbling on a mystery.
Well, I finally settled on a Netflix film about conspiracies. Hitler and Eva were replaced by doubles who were shot. The two of them were then spirited out of the country. Now I’m going to find out what really happened to Nazi gold. This program was a great choice. I’m getting sleepy from watching it.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 1 AM, 43˚, aliens, beautiful day, cleaning, dump, errands, library, mysteries, Nancy Drew, reading, sleeping animals, spindle back chairs, vets
Comments: 12 Comments
January 19, 2017
Today is a beautiful winter’s day. It is sunny and warm. Given how much it rained yesterday, I’m thinking today is a bit of a reward. Gracie and I are going out later. Today is not a day to waste.
Yesterday I actually vacuumed and then washed the kitchen floor. I can only think an alien had taken over my body.
I remember so much from when I was growing up. Without realizing it, I had filed away small things into my memory drawers. On the way to school, we crossed the railroad tracks. Sometimes we were even lucky enough to see a train. The bathroom at school always had a cleaning smell. The stalls and the overhead pipes were painted white. I remember the pipes sometimes had peeling paint.
The bowling alley was never quiet. The air was filled with the sounds of pins hitting the wooden floors. I remember the size of the shoes was on the backs of each rented pair. I never gave a thought about wearing shoes lots of people had worn.
Santoro’s Sub Shop was a block away from school. It was a small shop with a few stools at a counter attached to the wall. Mr. Santoro worked there with two of his sons. I remember Mr. Santoro was short. The bread, two different sizes, was in baskets and the toppings were in a case. The hot stuff like meatballs and sausages were on a stove top in big silver pots. I never got a hot sub. Mostly I got chicken salad or an Italian. I always added pickles and hot peppers.
There were four drug stores. I never thought that was strange. Now I wonder how a small town could support so many.
When it was hot, the firemen sat on big wooden chairs in front of the bays at the fire station. I always stopped to say hello.
The post office felt cool even on hot days, but the church sweltered in the summer.
I have the best memories, mostly simple memories etched forever in my memory drawers
Categories: Musings
Tags: Bathroom, beautiful, bowling alleys, cleaning smell, firemen, Italian and chicken salald, pickles and hot peppers, pipes, railroad tracks, Santoro's subs, sunny, walk to school, warm, wooden floor
Comments: 10 Comments
January 17, 2017
We’ve lost the sun. It’s a gray day with no wind. Rain will be here tomorrow. You’ll hear no complaints from me. It isn’t snow.
When I was a kid, I loved winter. I sledded and went ice skating at the town rink and at the swamp. I built snow forts in the tall piles left on the sides of the road by the plows. My friends and I had snowball fights. We’d build a short wall in front of us and across from each other then start making ammo, snowballs. When both sides had enough made, the fight began. I don’t think there was ever a clear winner. We’d finish the day so soaked and frozen that even the shoes inside our boots were filled with snow. My mother would sometimes make us cocoa with Marshmallow Fluff on top. I remember watching the Fluff spread from the heat of the cocoa. When I drank the cocoa, I always had a Fluff mustache.
At some time in my life, winter got boring. I started dreading snow. I hated scraping the ice off my windshield and driving to and from work in the dark. I admit snow is pretty especially right after a heavy snow storm when the tree branches and streets are covered. I do like watching the snow fall. I turn on the backdoor light so I can see the flakes, delicate and lacy. When I was a kid, there was a streetlight right near my house. Even back then I loved watching the flakes under the light.
I never knew the temperature when I was young. In my mind it was winter and winter was supposed to be cold. Now I asked Alexa the day’s weather and watch the news. I want to know what to expect. I’m happy when I hear 44˚ and groan when it is in the 20’s or even lower. I stay inside on the especially cold days.
I don’t think I’ll ever reconcile myself to winter. It had its time when I was young. Now I accept summer as the season for we who are growing old.
Categories: Musings
Tags: dark days, freezing, gray day, ice skating, Marshmallow Fluff, rain, Sledding, snow forts, Snowball fight, snowflakes, street lights, Swamp, winter
Comments: 10 Comments
January 16, 2017
Today is winter warm. The sun is shining and the sky is pale blue. In all respects it is a pretty day.
This morning I had a burst of energy. The laundry got put away, and the next load of laundry is leaning against the cellar door. I expect I’ll wash it later. I brought the vacuum up from the cellar. I washed a few cups and glasses. I even got dressed. It has already been quite a day.
Growing up, I never learned any household skills. My mother did everything. She even made our beds. When I was first on my own and the washing machine buzzed, I had no idea why. I took out the clothes, wrung them close to being dry and put them on the line. I had an apartment my junior and senior years in college. Almost everything I ate came from a can. Dinty Moore’s Beef Stew was a favorite. It had everything: meat, potatoes, and vegetables. I ate a lot of spaghetti with jarred sauce. I also ate several meals of hot dogs and hamburgers. They are still two of my favorites. When I graduated from college, I could wash clothes and understand the buzzer. I could sort of cook. I could also teach English.
If, when I was 11 or 12, I was asked what my life would be like when I was retired, I would have had trouble answering. Being old enough to retire was way beyond my ability to imagine. Even being in my 20’s seemed really far away., but I was sure of a few things. I’d travel the world. I’d write books about my travels. My life would be exotic. Auntie Mame and I would be kindred spirits.
Okay, how’d I do? I’ve traveled the world. Though there is still so much of it to see, I’ve done well. I’ve traveled on three continents. I have lived in Africa, an amazing adventure, an exotic adventure. I haven’t written a book, but I do write. That’s sort of a half-done. I never became an Auntie Mame. She was so flamboyant I could never pull off her style. I live for comfort. I suspect Auntie Mame would be horrified with my wardrobe.
Some things I’ve learned have amazed me. Cooking and baking are two of them. Doing needlepoint and crewel are two others. Never did I see any domesticity in my future. My 12- year-old self would laugh, heartily.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Auntie Mame, baking, comfortable, Dinty Moore's Beef Stew, domesticity, exotic, household skills, imagine life, Laundry, making bed, predictions, pretty day, stylish, three continents, travel the world, washing clothes, Washing machine, winter warm
Comments: 4 Comments
January 15, 2017
This morning I just didn’t want to get out of bed. It was 9:15 when I first woke up. Considering how late I went to bed, I figured it was too early to get up so I snuggled under the covers and went back to sleep. I slept until 10. Maddie started howling. Gracie was snoring. I decided the bed was too warm and I was too comfy so I went back to sleep. It was easy. I slept another hour so it was close to 11 when I dragged myself out of bed. I have no guilt at sleeping the morning away. I have no obligations, no errands and no chores though I could do a laundry, but I won’t.
Last night I want the Patriots beat the Texans. It wasn’t the Pats best game as Brady was intercepted and sacked, but my Pats prevailed. The game started late, 8:15, and ended late so my friends and I decided to make it an evening. First, we ate Chinese and played Phase 10, our favorite game. I happened to win. Clare and I alternate winning. Tony hasn’t won since last March. We’re planning a gala for his anniversary of one year without a win. He isn’t looking forward to the festivities.
It was cold last night, 24˚, so today at 34˚ feels warmer. The low this evening will be 19˚. When I lived in Ghana, it was hot and dry in January. It was harmattan. Dust blew over everything. The sun was obscured. Rain was months away. My candle melted without being lit. The water was often turned off. I took bucket baths, and I had to take a few before I got the knack. I got good at it.
During Peace Corps staging, a time when we all came together for nearly a week before leaving for Ghana, I was asked if I minded going to the north. My response was to ask why the question. What was it about the north? The psychologist asking the question didn’t know the answer. I told him I didn’t care where in Ghana I was to be posted. That settled it. I went to the far north, the Upper Region. I even knew before I left staging I was going to be in Bolgatanga. The remote posting areas were filled first. That was Bolga. That was the place with a long dry season when days reached 100˚ or more. I think of that this time of year, the coldest time of year here in New England, but if I were given a choice between the two, the hot, hot dry days or the freezing days and nights, I’d chose the cold. I couldn’t escape the heat, but I can always bundle up to escape the cold.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 24˚, 34˚, Bolgatanga, close to 11, cold, football, Ghana, harmattan, hot, howling cat, Laundry, New England Patriots, obligations, Peace Corps, sleeping, sleeping the morning away, snoring dog, Upper Region
Comments: 14 Comments
January 14, 2017
The cold is back. Alexa just told me it is 28˚. The high will be 36˚. In whose world is 36˚ a high? I know it is winter. I’m not deluded, but I am hopeful. Come on 50˚. Come back January thaw!!
When I was a kid, Saturday was the best day of the week. I didn’t have to go to school. I could go anywhere I wanted or I could stay home glued to the TV watching Creature Double Feature. Nothing was better than two B-science fiction movies in black and white one after the other. I got to watch spiders, giant ants, grasshoppers and even monoliths destroy cities and kill people. I sat as close to the TV as my mother allowed.
If my mother didn’t want us hanging around the house all day, she’d send us to the Saturday matinee. My brother and I would walk uptown to the movie theater. We usually arrived early so we waited in line none too patiently with every other kid who arrived early. We’d buy a ticket, choose a candy bar then find a seat. I never liked being too close to the screen. My mother would have been pleased. The theater was never quiet. We’d clap and yell for our heroes and boo the bad guys. It was easy to tell them apart. In westerns, the good guys wore white hats which never fell off their heads, even in fights with the black-hatted bad guys. We’d watch a serial, two movies and a cartoon, not bad for a quarter, up from the dime of my younger days.
I can’t remember the last time I ate a Sugar Daddy, but I loved them at the movies. They lasted longer than any other candy. My favorite part was chewing the caramel from the top and pulling with my teeth until threads appeared. They were always hard to bite. Once in a while I’d buy Sugar Babies. They were the same taste as Sugar Daddies but were soft to chew. Sugar Mamas joined the family. They were my favorites as they were a Sugar Daddy covered in chocolate.
When I go to the movies now, I buy popcorn and a drink. Sometimes I sneak in candy. I prefer Nonpareils. They aren’t as much fun as Sugar Daddies but are far less dangerous for my fillings.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 28˚, Bad guys, black hats, cold spell, Creature Double Feature, duck and cover, good guys, movie matinee, Saturday, Sugar Baby, Sugar Daddy, the A-bomb, white hats, winter
Comments: 8 Comments
January 13, 2017
Today is the last of the warmth. Cold is coming tonight when it will be down to the 20’s. Luckily, though, the snow is gone, and the ground is far drier than it had been. The mud is back to dirt. It is time to wash the kitchen floor. It is filled with paw prints. I can’t remember when it was ever this dirty.
Gracie and I will be out and about today. I have a couple of stops to make. She would be disappointed if I didn’t take her.
My days lack structure. I read the papers and drink coffee in the morning, and that’s my only routine. Sometimes I make my bed but mostly I don’t. I eat when I’m hungry. Cereal and eggs are often lunch and even dinner, seldom breakfast. My fridge is filled with food easy to eat just as it is like tabouli, yesterday’s lunch. If I’m in the mood, I cook dinner. Chicken is a favorite. Mashed potatoes already cooked are generally my side of choice. I eat a vegetable if I have one. I buy salad in the bag and add things like dried cranberries. My bread is naan or pita bread for the hummus and tabouli. Around the middle of the month when my larder starts to get empty, I treat myself to take-out. My favorite place is Spinners where I can get Mexican, soup or pizza. I’m also a fan of Chinese food.
My bedtime is whenever I’m tired. It is usually after midnight, sometimes as late as two or three. I wake up whenever. This morning a phone call woke me at nine. I tried to go back to sleep but couldn’t. The phone call was a robocall. I made coffee.
I pretty much wear the same type clothes every day: pants, a shirt and, in winter, a sweatshirt. Seldom do I go anywhere which demands dressy clothes. That’s just fine with me. If I go out to eat, I skip the sweatshirt.
My life is uncomplicated. I really enjoy it that way.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bedtime, bored, chinese food, cold, dirty floor, dried cranberries, Eggs, making bed, mashed potatoes, mud, routine, salad, Spinners
Comments: 10 Comments
