Archive for the ‘Musings’ category

“It takes darkness to be aware of the light.”

November 12, 2016

As silly and as childish as it sounds, I want to shake Gracie and Maddie so they can’t sleep. They managed to keep waking me up last night. Gracie was snoring and Maddie was howling. Right now both of them are enjoying their morning naps. They are deeply asleep.  I’m tired.

The weather is consistent. Every day has been in the mid 40’s. Last night the wind howled, and, sure enough, my lawn is covered again. Today is still. It is as if the wind has worn itself out. Later in the week, it will get warmer, to the high 50’s, Indian summer weather.

I am finally getting tired of seeing the laundry bags by the cellar door. I add more wash every day so the bags are filled. It’s time to do the dreaded chore.

Some days I actually have the wherewithal to attack and complete the chore list, maybe because the list is small or maybe because I feel guilty about putting things off for so long. Nope, it isn’t guilt.

The dump is on our list for tomorrow. My trunk is getting filled and more trash bags are still to come. I have to clean the cat box  and add it to the trunk load. I’ll be very careful as last week the litter bag opened and the trunk was filled with the loose litter from the bag. My newspaper and catalogue recycle bags are heavy. Every day I get huge numbers of catalogues. I go through most of them in case something catches my eye though I haven’t much Christmas shopping left to do. I just like looking.

My deck is still open only because Skip, my factotum, hasn’t gotten here yet. I have called, but he hasn’t called me back even though his wife said she’d take of it. I’m thinking it is getting close to Christmas lights so he might as well do both at the same time. I always hate it when the deck is closed. It is the acknowledgement that summer and the warm days of fall have ended. The deck looks so deserted with most of the furniture and the two umbrellas covered. The Christmas lights, though, do brighten the deck and the yard. They keep me going until Little Christmas. That’s when the whole yard is winter: deserted, cold and dark.

 

“The wonder is always new that any sane man can be a sailor.”

November 11, 2016

My father graduated from high school in 1944 when he was sixteen. He was so young because his mother had sent him to school when he was only four. She couldn’t take him anymore. He was a bit of a rambunctious child so his mother sent him to school to give her a bit of relief. After he graduated, he asked his parents to sign permission for him to enlist in the military. They refused. He then bided his ime until December when he turned seventeen and didn’t need permission. He enlisted in the navy.I never asked him why he chose the navy. I wish I had. He certainly wasn’t safer as his ship carried supplies back and forth in the North Atlantic, and it was on one of those trips when his ship was sunk. He managed to find a piece of the ship to hold on to, but his legs were still in the cold water. I don’t remember how long he was there, but I do know he passed out, and when he woke up, his captain, who had been holding on to the same piece of ship was gone.

My father was rescued, but all of his mates from that end of the ship were not. He was transported to a hospital in Plymouth, England. The doctors thought he might lose his legs from the exposure to the cold water, but he didn’t. His parents, meanwhile, had no idea where he was or what had happened so they called the Red Cross who located him. He was seventeen. He hadn’t even thought of his parents. To him the war was a huge adventure.

My dad told us stories about his hospital stay. With both legs in casts, he’d borrow a bicycle and roll down the hill to the pub. When he was ready to go back, they’d have to call an ambulance to come get him. He was in the hospital during the Battle of the Bulge, and the wounded kept coming. They said they were getting slaughtered and were losing, but that changed.

He was sent back to the US still in the navy, was granted leave and went home. My mother had heard my dad had lost a leg, but she found it to be a rumor. When he first saw her, he greeted her with, “Hey, Babe.” He was, as always, his rambunctious self.

“I feel the end approaching. Quick, bring me my dessert, coffee and liqueur.”

November 10, 2016

Yesterday I actually went through all the Christmas gifts I’ve bought and made a list. I haven’t yet checked it twice, but I do have an idea what I need. It was quite a surprise to find out I have finished six people. The stuff I bought in Ghana put me over the top, but I still have to get the guys and the little ones small surprises. Everyone gets a small bag of surprises and a big gift from me. Finding surprises for the guys is never easy. I’m thinking I need to peruse the aisles at the hardware store.

The weather is chilly today. The breeze is enough to drop more leaves and needles. I figure they are like the myth of Sisyphus broadly interpreted.

The fall days seem to meld together. When I wake up, my first thought sometimes is wondering what day it is. Usually I try remembering the yesterdays which gives me the hints I need. The date is on my computer or I’d never figure that out. Before I retired, days had an identity. Now they are just lumped together. I can do what I want when I want. No more worrying about school nights or waking up at ungodly hours.

I’m going out to dinner tonight to Karoo’s, a South African restaurant. The meats, the spices and the sauces are quite different from Ghanaian food. My favorites are the curried meat loaf served with rice and chutney and peri peri chicken served in a sauce of tomato, chilies, onions and ginger. A pomegranate cosmopolitan is usually the best start to the meal. I think no dessert but then can’t resist ordering Melkert, a custard tart, which is so light it makes ordering dessert defensible as if it ever needed a defense.

“We must have a pie. Stress cannot exist in the presence of a pie.”

November 8, 2016

Finally, I can breathe a sigh of relief. The phone calls will stop and the political ads will be a quickly forgotten memory. By tonight we’ll know.

When I went out this morning, I went by my town’s polling spot. It didn’t look too busy. There was no line and I saw plenty of empty parking spots.

Tonight I will watch the results. After having punished myself by following the campaigns for all these many months, I need to know the finish.

I never did go out yesterday. I just hung around the house doing nothing, but today is already different. I had an early morning meeting then went to get dry dog food and cat treat finally went to the store for a cinnamon bun. They, of course, didn’t have any today so I bought an elephant ear. That seemed wonderfully appropriate after my trip to the game park.

Today is a lovely day. The sun is shining, and the breeze is ever so slight. I did need a sweatshirt when I went out as it was only 52˚. By the time I got home, it had risen to 55˚, the predicted high for the day.

My mother used to make the best pies. Her apple pie was stacked high with apples. The crust was always flaky, never soggy. She had just the right mix of sugar and cinnamon. Instead of pumpkin, she made squash pie. I never could tell the difference. Sometimes she made a custard pie. She always made a lemon meringue, my all time favorite. I used to make date nut bread from my grandmother’s recipe and a chocolate cream pie for my dad. He never shared. He thought I made it just for him.

 

“There’s no such thing as a vote that doesn’t matter.”

November 7, 2016

Last night wasn’t restful for me or for Maddie and Gracie. Miss Maddie howled several times or many only a few. I lost track. I called her and make the lip sound cats seem to like so she’d stop for a while before the next howl. Gracie rolled out of bed to the floor, and I have an old, high bed. I heard her fall so I jumped off the bed toward her. She was scrambling and couldn’t seem to stand on her back legs. I thought she had injured them or her spine. I tried to lift her onto the bed but she was too heavy. I then put her front legs on the bed and lifted her back legs onto the bed. She looked dazed. I was already wondering how I’d get her to the car to go the vet’s when she turned in a circle and laid down. This morning she was fine. I figure she was slipping on the floor as she tried to get up and was a bit panicked by the fall. This morning all is well except they are sleeping, and I’m tired.

Yesterday afternoon there was a strong wind and last night it rained. More and more branches are empty. Wet leaves cover the ground, the deck and the lawn. Today is cold. The high will be 50˚. It is mostly cloudy with a bit of blue here and there. The sun comes and goes, but even when it is shining, it does little. The wind is strong. Today is the backside of fall.

With the election tomorrow, I am back to watching MSNBC and every now and then CNN. I am curious about the projections in the swing states. Trump has laid claim to the Hispanic vote in Florida. He has also criticized the language Beyoncé and Jay-Z used at a Clinton rally. He said maybe they were singing or maybe they were just talking. He didn’t know.

Trump is choosing his cabinet. I like oak or pine.

What to do today? I could buy some dog food at Agway, but that just isn’t enough to get me up and out. Maybe it is a good day to sort Christmas presents or maybe not. I have a couple of new books, but if I start one, that’s it for the day. They’d be nothing else. Nothing trumps the joy of a good book.

“Tradition is a fine thing. Nothing comes out of the blue, except perhaps thunderbolts and they are not really very useful things.”

November 6, 2016

Today is dark and rainy. The street is now covered with wet leaves and pine needles. They’ll dry then be blown away. My lawn too is covered in brown pine needles and has mostly disappeared. Every small breeze drops yellow oak leaves to the deck. I can watch them fall from the window. My den light is lit giving the room a cozy feel. Gracie and Maddie are asleep. I love mornings like this.

This week I have a meeting on Tuesday, and that is the only entry on my dance card. The rest of the week is wide open. I have some stuff I could do like go through the Christmas presents piled on a guest room bed and catalogue them by person so I can know what I still need to buy. I love to find just the right gifts for people, and it takes a bit of shopping to do that, and Christmas isn’t really all that far away. I did some Christmas shopping in Ghana, and I’m glad for that as the gifts will be unique. I bought yards and yards of traditional Ghanaian GTP cloth to be used to make presents. Now I wish I’d even bought more.

Some gifts have become part of the Christmas tradition. I give everyone a bag filled with smaller gifts including a new ornament with some sort of a personal touch like a fish for my brother-in-law the fly fisherman. The kids also get Christmas books. I give all the women earrings or some sort of jewelry. This year the jewelry is from Ghana. I buy soap for every bag like lobsters or starfish. I also try to find fun gifts. I bought an old fishing drop line for my nephew, a gift of memory for him. There are bigger gifts for the kids. The younger boys get Hess trucks. They are on the way. My only grandniece is getting a doll and a dress from Ghana. My nieces and nephews get gift certificates stuffed into their gift bags, something I started doing when they got into their 20’s and finding just the right gift got too difficult. They love the small gifts and opening the bags is always done on Christmas Eve. It is the tradition, and my family is big on Christmas tradition.

“Leaves leave this world in beautiful fall colors and songs.”

November 5, 2016

I have returned. My computer is working just fine; Gracie is outside barking, and I am in a far better mood. I went to the ATM and got $100.00. I then got gas as the little gas pump had appeared, and finally, I went to a vintage/handicrafts fair. Now I have $10.00 and several bags. Spending money and buying presents were just what I needed to get me out of that funk. I bought Christmas presents and a few stocking stuffers. I still need bread and cream, maybe later.

Today was another lovely day. If I were a kid, I’d want to jump into a pile of leaves. It’s just that sort of day.

I remember the piles of leaves up and down the street on a Saturday afternoon. All the fathers raked on Saturdays as if it were a rule. My dad had a bamboo rake. I remember he had a pattern to his raking. He’d leave a few small piles here and there then join them into a giant pile he’d rake then sweep to the street. After that was the burning. I loved the smell of burning leaves, and I loved to watch them burn. First came smoke in the middle of the pile then they’d be a small flame. My dad watched and monitored the burning. He always warned us not to get too close, but we got as close as we dared. After the burning, I loved how my jacket always smelled like the smoke.

Turning the clock back means I get an extra hour of sleep, but then again I figure I am just getting the hour which was taken in March. I still don’t get the need for daylight saving time. It seems you can pick and choose which seems to complicate the whole time thing. Hawaii and most of Arizona don’t observe daylight savings (the exception is the Navajos, who do observe daylight saving time on tribal lands). Throw it out is my advice.

I wore a flannel shirt outside today, and I was plenty warm. I thought about adding a vest, but sometimes I live dangerously.

“One moment you’re fire; the next smoke.”

November 5, 2016

Gracie is snoring so loudly you’d swear she is a huge, burly man wearing a wife beater t-shirt and a variety of gold chains who is lying on his back and sleeping.

My computer keeps getting that rainbow ball so I have to restart Safari over and over.

I am testy though I think that is too nice a description for my current mood.

The air is blue and getting a darker blue the longer I sit at my computer.

Given all of the above, I am going out for just a bit. I need gas, bread and light cream. Perhaps a bit of fresh air and no snoring will sweeten my mood. One can only hope.

I’ll be back in a while.

 

 

 

“Never complete. Never whole. White skin and an African soul.”

November 4, 2016

If I pulled out that dusty old dictionary of mine and looked up autumn, I’d find it is a noun defined as,”the third season of the year, when crops and fruits are gathered and leaves fall, in the northern hemisphere from September to November and in the southern hemisphere from March to May.” The words in the definition just aren’t enough. What about autumn’s almost indefinable beauty? What about autumn’s colors, its cool, sometimes cold nights, and its warmer mornings? What about a perfect autumn day? Well, I’ve got that one covered: today is the perfect autumn day. The sun is bright. The sky is deep blue but has a few wispy clouds for contrast. The air is warm, long sleeve shirt warm. A slight breeze is enough to drop the brown leaves off the boughs of the oak trees. They slowly flutter to the ground as if they know their time is done. Today is a day to be out and about.

I met two former students the other day. We did the pleasantries and caught up with one another. I met one’s baby and another’s nine year old. They asked what I was doing to stay busy. I described my life as a sloth and I mentioned traveling. They wanted to know where. “Africa,” I told them. “Wow,” was the response from each of them and both mentioned how exciting Africa must have been. I told them about the elephants. Seeing those elephants was nothing short of amazing for me, and they thought seeing elephants had to be the coolest thing.

Those conversations got me thinking. Elephants and game parks aside, going back to Ghana is almost commonplace for me. Were I to go to Mali or Botswana, I would think of each as an unbelievable trip to Africa. Ghana is going home. It is familiar again. I get to see my former students, and we are at ease with each other, the sort of ease which comes from years of friendship. I am not surprised by what I see. The rooster wakes me up, but I can always go back to sleep. I enjoy goat and Guinea fowl as much as beef or chicken. I know Ghanaian food is spicy hot and best eaten with my hand. I am adept at noticing and walking over deposits left by goats and sheep on the streets, the walkways and in the market. All the smells are Ghana to me. Ghanaians smile at me, and I smile back. I even greet them in Hausa and a bit of FraFra.

Though Bolgatanga is bigger and far busier, I just think of it as home. It being in Africa is merely serendipitous.

“You can’t eliminate the dust, only move it somewhere else.”

November 1, 2016

Maddie is missing Fern. This morning, around 5, Maddie just kept meowing in the deep, throaty meow she has. She never did that before this. I called to her, but it took a while before she settled down and was quiet. Now she is sleeping on the back cushion of the couch in the living room, one of Fern’s favorite spots. This is the first time Maddie has slept there. She and Fern had been together the whole of their lives.

Good thing I bought my favorite candy bars to give out last night as I have so many left over. I should put them away just as I did the anise bears. I never did find them.

Today is a beautiful day, sunny and bright, in the 50’s. Last night was really cold, and I think we had our first frost, but by the time I got outside this morning, the frost had pretty much melted. The car windows, however, were still wet and opaque.

My house is really dusty, especially the bookshelves. When I worked, I tended to get far more housework done in less time. Now I figure I have all day today or all day tomorrow or even next week to finish. The key is not to mind the dust. Proudly I can boast I have mastered the art of ignoring it.

Yesterday I changed the bed. The sheets had been sitting on the chest at the foot of the bed for four or five days. I have also learned to ignore them, but a new bedspread and shams arrived so I was eager to put them on the bed and figured I might as well change the sheets at the same time.

After reading what I’ve just written about being a sloth, a happy sloth, I decided to describe what I do all day. Well, you know I start the day with two papers and two cups of coffee. I then get to my e-mail and after that, I write Coffee. Depending upon when I got out of bed and how active my muse is, it could be late morning or even early afternoon before I finish. If I have no errands, I stay in my comfy clothes all day. Sometimes I read the day away or watch programs I DVR’ed. I go through magazines and cut out recipes I probably will never try despite my good intentions. Lately, I have been browsing catalogs with Christmas in mind. Notice, cleaning is not mentioned. Neither is laundry which gets done only when the bag is overflowing or I am close to running out of unmentionables. I have also left out showers, brushing my teeth and making my bed. I will mention that I sometimes enjoy an afternoon nap which is the reason I don’t make my bed. I figure I’d only mess up the bed again if I napped or maybe I should say when I napped.

I retired twelve years ago so I have perfected a variety of ways to spend my days. I am no longer feeling any guilt at what I don’t accomplish. Dust always returns.