Archive for the ‘Musings’ category
April 2, 2016
“It’s raining. It’s pouring. The old man’s snoring. He went to bed and bumped his head, and he wouldn’t get up in the morning.”
The poor old man has been in bed now for two straight days. Yesterday it rained on and off with a few torrential downpours in between. Today it is raining constantly, but the rain is softer, quieter than yesterday’s. I woke up to the sound of the rain on the roof. I stayed in bed a bit and listened. I have always been a lover of rain.
I am going to the dump today, not my usual day, but I figure the rain will keep most people away so it will be a quick trip, no waiting. I need to go to the ATM and I need gas. How nice it is to need only a few things.
When I was a kid, a rainy Saturday probably meant going to the movies this time of year. My dad would drive us and most times we’d walk home in the rain. Whether the rain was light or heavy determined our route home. A light rain meant we’d go by the town barn and check out the horses. From there we’d stop by the ragman’s house. I remember his porch sagged under the weight of all the piles of newspapers. A second building was where he kept his horse and wagon. I don’t remember ever going into his yard. We just checked everything out from the sidewalk. I don’t know why but it is one of the brightest images in my memory drawers. The two buildings formed an L. The long part was his house. I could see the door but not the windows. The paper piles were too tall. I think at one time the house had been white but by this time it just looked dirty. The short part of the L had a wide doorway so he could back his wagon inside. The driveway was dirt and stones and led right to the horse building.
Sometimes we’d go straight home from the ragman’s house; other times we’d go back a couple of blocks and take the railroad tracks. The choice depended on how wet and cold we were. The tracks ran behind the ragman’s house, pass the old train depot and the red store. We’d stay on the tracks only a bit further until we reached the tracks closest to the field not far from our house. We’d then leave the tracks and walk up one street to where we could cross the field. That left only the hill to our house.
We were always soaked by the time we got home. Kids don’t mind being soaked. It is one of the neat things about being a kid.
Categories: Musings
Tags: "It's raining. It's pouring. The old man's snoring, horse and wagon, ragean, rainy Saturday, Saturday matinee, second day of rain, torrential downpours, town barn
Comments: 18 Comments
March 31, 2016
This morning I woke up with horrendous back pain. I had to grab hold of knobs and corners of bureaus to make it to the bathroom. Happily I got there on time. When I finished, I decided coffee would be the panacea so I tentatively made my way down the stairs and then sat on the couch for a bit feeling quite sorry for myself. I got up, put the coffee on and went to get the papers. I didn’t stop to look at the flowers.
The phone rang. It was the Nielsen people for whom I’ve been keeping track of my radio listening for the past week. They called every day. I didn’t answer after the first two calls because each call had exactly the same script. Today I answered. I shouldn’t have. She read the script so fast I didn’t understand her but I didn’t need to. She was thanking me, wanted to know if I was keeping track each day and would I please send it back on Thursday, today. I then let her have it. Was it necessary to call every day? Did she think I was either dumb as a doornail or had no memory at all so I needed reminding? Didn’t she understand how intrusive all these calls were? Here I was doing them a favor and in return they harassed me. She never answered my specific questions. She just read from the script, the same script. There I was asking her if she thought I was dumb as a doornail and she said thank you and don’t forget to send the survey out today; of course, that’s what she said. I doubt the script has a section on what to say to a crazed woman. I said never bother me again and hung up.
It was my back which prompted the nastiness. I needed happy so I called my brother-in-law but got my sister instead who thought the whole incident quite entertaining. She was sympathetic, reminded me to take the pills the doctor gave me and suggested I lie down and watch a movie, a funny movie. She got a chuckle out of my calling Rod so I could hear a happy voice.
I got to thinking about happy and what makes me happy. Being with family and friends is an easy one so I dug a bit deeper. My garden makes me happy especially now when I get to watch the flowers break ground and begin to grow. Hot fudge sundaes with marshmallow instead of whipped cream make me very happy. A lazy day lolling on the couch always makes me happy. Add a good book and I’m nearly delirious with happiness. Chocolates, especially caramels, make me smile, chew a lot but still smile. Christmas makes every part of me happy. Mums and the colors of fall flowers always make me pause to look at how beautiful they are. I can feel the ocean inside me when it has tremendous white caps and a strong wind off the water. Sitting on my deck doing absolutely nothing makes me happy.
Okay, I am sorry for being obnoxious to the phone lady but really only a little sorry. The pill worked, and my back is fine. I’m going out on the deck to fill the bird feeders. I might even make my bed today. That is a sure sign of contentedness. All I needed were a few reminders.
Categories: Musings
Tags: back pain, chocolates, Christmas, coffee, dumb as a doornail, flowers, happy, hot fudge sundaes, mums, Nielsen, panacea, script
Comments: 31 Comments
March 29, 2016
It is a lovely morning, totally unlike yesterday with the monsoons. The sun is shining so brightly you have to squint from the glare. The blue sky looks unreal, as if it were painted in broad strokes. A remnant of last night’s heavy winds still blows bending and swaying the pine trees in the backyard.
I know spring is here as I can hear a blower being used to clean the yard next door. The season of machines has begun.
I have nothing I need to do today. The laundry has made it to this floor from upstairs and, according to my usual pattern, tomorrow the laundry will get downstairs to the washing machine. Once washed, it will sit in the dryer awhile.
Easter was wonderful. We sat on the porch where all you can see from the windows is the ocean. I wore a flowered dress and my Easter fascinator which is a small white hat with flowers and colorful feathers standing tall from the back. It raised quite a stir. As I was standing waiting for my table, I had to laugh when people noticed my fascinator as I could see their eyes moving right up to my hat. After we sat down, I saw a table across the room pointing at me. I waved. They waved back and mouthed that they loved my hat. I got a few thumbs up from them. People walking by stopped at our table to compliment my hat. Another table of women waved, smiled and pointed. My favorites were two young boys both of whom said they liked my hat, “Great hat,” was one of the comments. That hat turned into quite the conversation piece. I wore it the whole meal.
Dinner was delicious. I had an odd choice for me: carbonara. It had the usual pancetta and cheese as well as peas and crabmeat. It was rigatoni rather than the usual spaghetti. I had two drinks and for the life of me can’t remember what they were. They were strong. That much I remember. I had a coconut coffee after dinner. It was scrumptious. I think the rum helped.
When I got home, I took a wee bit of a nap, about an hour. That’s all I needed. I was totally refreshed and even managed to eat a little bit of the chocolate from the Easter Bunny.
We have best of all Easters filled as it is with good friends, lots of laughter and wonderful traditions, some old and some very new.
Categories: Musings
Tags: blower, blue skies, Easter, fascinator, Laundry, lazy day, lovely morning, machines, spring, swaying pine trees, winds
Comments: 14 Comments
March 28, 2016
The story connected with today is a long one. It’s a bit boring but not because of length. It just is. I’ll start at the beginning as I figure that’s where everything starts. I had my annual physical today. My doctor is okay, not spectacular but okay. He had on a nice shirt for which I complimented him. His wife bought it. That was the pleasantry. He then went through the blood tests with me and decided I was relatively healthy for my age. He actually said that last part. He also said something about people of my generation. I ignored that. He said I needed to exercise more to lose weight. I explained as I do every time I see him that my back prevents that. I walk then stop then walk then stop. By then the distance I’ve walked can be easily measure in yards. I told him I take a handful of Aleve when my back is bad. Not a good thing he said. It will affect my kidneys. We then talked about my kidneys. It was an enthralling saga. He asked if I would be averse to a narcotic for pain. Silly question. He also decided I’ll have another MRI and go back to see the surgeon who did my last operation. He said to come back in two weeks. That was it I was done.
The library was next. Leave three books, get three more. I chatted a bit with the librarian then went back out into the pouring rain. I haven’t mentioned the rain before. It was pouring, a deluge, raining cats and dogs, torrential and relentless. I went in and out all day and never really dried.
My next stop was the pharmacy. I waited for prescriptions to be filled. The lady beside was wearing blue Converse sneakers with white laces. I told her I really liked her sneakers. We had a conversation about how we all wore them as kids. She has another in grey. I told her I had pink and purple high tops. She loved it. I got my prescriptions and went back into the rain, the torrential rain. My next stop was to have blood drawn. I just had that done Thursday but had to have it done again after a change in dosage. By then it was after two. I was hungry. I decided on Chinese food.
I went and bought my lunch to eat at home. It was tasty. After eating I decided I needed a nap. I slept until 5:15 so here I am.
Tomorrow I’ll tell you about Easter. I was quite a hit.
Categories: Musings
Tags: chinese food, Converse sneakers, drug store, Easter, kidney, library, pharmacy, physical, pills, Surgery, walking
Comments: 14 Comments
March 27, 2016
Happy Easter!!
The poor bunny must be exhausted. I imagine he’s sitting in his easy chair, paws up, hot toddy in hand and watching Harvey. Who helps the Easter Bunny? I’ve never even given the poor bunny a thought. Santa has a huge work force behind him, huge in numbers that is. He has his own little town. For all we know the Easter Bunny lives in a hole. Decorated I expect but still a hole. Does he have a work force? How many chickens lay all those eggs? Who helps him deliver? How come he doesn’t wear pants? Is it a Donald Duck sort of thing? There are endless questions connected with the Easter Bunny. I fear they will remain unanswered.
Today is damp and cold. I went out at 7 to decorate my friend’s tree as I do every year. Their deck was wet and there was some ice on the furniture coverings. I guess there had been snow flurries during the night.
My friends and I are going out for Easter dinner as we always do. The restaurant is right on the water. The gulls fly by and you can hear their raucous calls. The ocean is still cold, in the mid forties, and I think it even looks cold, a deeper color than it is in the summer.
Our Easter baskets were on our bureaus. They were the first things we saw as soon as we woke up. I remember carrying my basket downstairs to show my mother then I’d sit on the couch to check out to see what goodies the Easter Bunny had left for me. I also ate a few jelly beans.
Church was next. I got to dress in my Easter finery for the first time. On a day like today my mother would have made me add a jacket or a sweater, but I’d take it off in church so everyone could see how lovely I looked. I never had any doubt about the loveliness.
Categories: Musings
Tags: cold and damp, Easter Bunny, Easter dinner, Exhausted Bunny, lives in a hole, Poor Bunny
Comments: 16 Comments
March 26, 2016
Today is a bit bleak and a little chilly. The Easter Bunny better bundle up tonight to make his rounds. I’m imagining the Bunny wearing a warm jacket, wool socks on his feet and matching mittens on his hands. In keeping with the season, he’ll also be wearing a brightly colored bow tie. It is, after all, spring.
When I was a kid, we always took baths on Saturdays. When I was older and into multiple baths each week, I wondered why only one bath a week back then. We were kids, we got dirty playing outside. Washing hands and faces couldn’t have been enough. I’m thinking we had a layer of dirt the other five days, not six because on Sunday we started out clean.
I always thought we were lucky Easter was on a Sunday. I was young. I believed in the Easter Bunny. What did I know of lent and the liturgy? I figured we were lucky because we only had to take the one bath which served two purposes, our Saturday night ritual and getting clean for Easter.
We never hounded my mother about letting us go to bed early on Easter Eve the way we did on Christmas Eve. The Easter Bunny seldom brought surprises. We knew we’d find a few small toys, maybe a coloring book and crayons and a stuffed animal, mostly a rabbit. There was always a giant chocolate rabbit. I remember once I bit into my rabbit and found it was hollow. It was a mere shell. I complained to my mother about the rabbit being a bit deceptive. She agreed.
All the jelly beans except the black ones tasted the same to me. That’s probably why black jelly beans are still a favorite of mine. I don’t like black licorice so it is a bit of puzzle why I like the black jelly beans. I think they must be most people’s favorite because now you can buy a package of just black ones. I remember looking at my tongue in the mirror after I ate the black jelly beans. My whole tongue was black. I thought it was kind of neat.
When I was a kid, my mother had a way to make us tell the truth. It had nothing to do with morality. She’d ask us if we had done whatever like breaking a dish or a glass and all four of us would say no. My mother would say it must have been the ghost. We’d all nod in agreement and hoped it ended it there. It didn’t. The test was next. My mother told us our tongues turned black when we told a lie. We’d check in the mirror, but she also had that covered. Only mothers can see the back tongue she told us. She’d then ask each of us in turn to show her our tongues. The guilty party wouldn’t. He’d put his hand over his mouth so my mother couldn’t see. Nabbed! I don’t remember how long that worked, but it was a wonder. My mother always found the guilty party. I thought she was amazing.
Categories: Musings
Tags: baskets, black jelly beans, black tongue lies, bleak and chilly, chocolate rabbits, Easter bath, Easter Bunny, Easter Eve, jelly beans, Saturday baths, stuffed animals
Comments: 22 Comments
March 24, 2016
We’re back to dreary and cold. I had put away my flannels only to pull them out this morning. I’m even wearing socks. I spent a couple of hours earlier with my neighbor, the one who became a citizen. We just chat, my way for her to learn better conversational English. She is still having trouble with has and have. I don’t speak any Portuguese beyond please and thank you so I am quite amazed with her grasp of English, a language with weird rules and odd spellings.
I remember workbooks from elementary school. We had one for arithmetic and one for English. My most vivid memory of a math page was the one on coins. It had a line up of a reasonable facsimile of each coin. I had to figure which coins and how many I needed for something like 35 cents. The answer had to be the smallest amount of coins. A quarter and a dime would get me a check; three dimes and a nickel would merit an X. Dollars were self-evident and didn’t appear in my workbook. We’d do a page or two during the lesson, and sometimes had to finish at home.
The English workbook was filled with things like contractions, subject-verb agreement, singular and plural words and verb tenses. There were pages filled with sentences which had one blank. You had to choose between he or him, she or her and all the rest of the pronouns. I’ve come to believe that many people were either sick at home or sleeping in class and subsequently missed that particular lesson. TV dialogue is rife with errors. I hear things like, give the book to him and I or to her and I, and it makes me cringe. I’ve been told that’s the way people talk now so I should accept it, but what’s wrong is wrong as far as I’m concerned.
I think music and language are similar. If someone plays or sings a piece of music off-key, people don’t find that entertaining. They cringe. They don’t say that’s the way people sing now. I wish language was given the same respect.
I find language beautiful. The right words strung together can fill you with love or longing. They can make you laugh or cry. They have the power to hurt, to cut. Our memories are images described in words.
I accept new words and I know old ones disappear from lack of use. Language is fluid, but the form doesn’t change. A name is a noun. An action word is a verb. The object of the preposition is objective case. It’s him, not he. It’s me, not I. That’s all I’m asking.
Categories: Musings
Tags: arithmetic, coins, cold, conversational English, dreary, English, flannels, has and have, language, music, objective case, off-key, pronouns, workbooks
Comments: 21 Comments
March 22, 2016
A lovely day with lots of sun, a deep blue sky and a little breeze greeted me this morning. Most of the snow has disappeared. The only bits left are in shaded areas. I’m being hopeful and putting my primroses on the front step. They’ve been in the house keeping warm since I bought them, but I think it is warm enough to introduce them to the world.
Today I have lists, but I’m quite behind my time because I spoke to both of my sisters this morning. One sister is sick so it was a short conversation, but my other sister, in Colorado, and I spoke close to an hour. Yes, we did find plenty to talk about for all that time. Lulls are generally not part of our conversations.
I still keep in touch with a few of my childhood friends. We talk every couple of months and get together about twice a year. My college friends and I lost track of each other while I was in Ghana. We wrote for a while but the time between letters got longer and longer and then the letters stopped. We were living far different lives a long way from each other. I still have Peace Corps friends that I met in 1969, and I feel as close to them now as I did when we worked and lived together. We shared an experience few are fortunate to have and built a bond which has stayed strong. We have stories which make us laugh every time we tell them. I think it is the same with just about every volunteer no matter the country of service. We all have a bathroom story, but I use bathroom loosely here. Outhouse, hole in the ground or a quick run into the bushes would be better choices. I know I’ve tried them all. We have great stories about medical problems and try to top each other in the telling. The conversations usually include worms, boils, tropical skin diseases, infections, cracked lips and feet and diarrhea, the bane of most volunteers. We graphically describe the symptoms and are never offended or grossed out by what we hear. Sometimes we even applaud the story, the grosser the story the longer the applause.
My closest friends live down the street. We are an odd family of three. We celebrate major and rare holidays together, rare holidays like Cowboy Day. We decorate and wear special clothes to help celebrate. I still have my cowboy hat and my sombrero from Cinco de Mayo. We greeted the sunrise together at the beach on the first day of spring. I’m working on their Easter baskets. They are fun friends. My life is enriched by knowing them.
I have no idea how I got where I did. I guess mentioning childhood friends set me on my way. I’ll just end here with how lucky I am with my friends.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bathroom stories, boils, childhood friends, college friends, diarrhea, melting snow, Peace Corps friends, phone calls, primroses, sisters, sunny day, warm, worms
Comments: 6 Comments
March 20, 2016
Happy First Day of Spring!
Today is a cold but sunny day. The sunrise was gorgeous. The beach was warmer than I expected as there wasn’t the cold breeze which sometimes comes off the water. We sat for a bit in the car then went outside to greet the first spring day. We watched the pinkish red glow of morning touch the sky then saw the top of the sun rise over the jetty. We sang our traditional songs. My friend Clare found us each a shell, a memento, then we got back into the car and went to breakfast. The sun was getting higher in the sky as we drove away.
Tonight it will snow. The amount is still in question. We could get 0-2 or 2-4 inches. We’re on the cusp.
I don’t remember cold Easters when I was a kid. My memory drawers have hidden them way in the back. I remember warm sunshine, pastel dresses, white gloves and Mary Jane shoes in black patent leather. This, the week before Easter, is when my mother did most of the clothes shopping. The Children’s Corner in the square had the perfect dresses. It had round racks filled with pink, green and light blue dresses and other racks of petticoats to make the dresses puffy. The shoes came from Thom McCann. I wasn’t one for hats but my sisters were. They fancied round ones with ribbons. They also carried little purses with one long metal strap. A light, fancy jacket finished the ensemble.
The dresses sat on hangers in the closets until Easter. Every time I’d open my closet I’d take my dress out to look at how beautiful it was. I could hardly wait for Easter.
Categories: Musings
Tags: cold and sunny, Easter clothes, first day of spring, shells, Snow, sunrise, the beach, traditional ceremonies
Comments: 18 Comments
March 19, 2016
The day is beautiful with lots of sun and a clear, deep blue sky. The only problem is the cold. It isn’t take your breath away cold, for which I am thankful, but it is wear a jacket or a vest cold. The prediction is for snow starting tomorrow night and continuing into Monday. We could get up to 8 inches, but the forecast is still filled with maybes. Sadly the snow isn’t a maybe but the amount is.
Even when I was young, I don’t think I’d have welcomed snow this time of year. It’s bicycle time. Sled time is over. I’d have already put my sled in the cellar and brought out my bike.
I was a pretty good roller skater on the sidewalks near my house. My skates were the key kind which attached to my shoes, always shoes, never sneakers. I’d sit on the front steps, loosen the sliders on the under part of the skates then put my feet in and move the slider up and down until the skates perfectly fit my feet. I’d then tighten the slider bolts. The next part needed my key which I always kept on a string around my neck when I skated. The string was a necessity because losing the key was about the worst thing to happen. That key loosened or tightened the clamps at the top of my skates, the clamps which held on to my shoes. Once the clamps were as tight as I could get them the last thing to do was to buckle the leather strap which went across my foot.
I loved how strange the bottoms of my feet felt as I skated. It was like a tingling sensation. Coupled with that was the great sound of skates rolling across the sidewalks. It was almost like the sound of a revving motor.
The skates never really glided and didn’t do well dealing with big bumps or cracks in the sidewalks. I didn’t care; however, I did sometimes fall after encountering a crack and often skinned my knees. Blood trails went down my legs. They were like badges of honor because I’d get right back up and skate again, blood or no blood.
We went to the skating rink occasionally and rented shoe skates. The rink was in Medford, the next town over, and was called The Bal-A-Roue. It looked a bit like a hockey rink. The skating part was oval and surrounded by a railing. The surface, though, was wooden. An organ played the music so easy even now to recognize as skating music. I love going there.
When I’d get home, my skirt or my pants were usually dirty from the number of times I fell on that wooden floor. I admit the railing and I were great friends.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Bal-A-Roue, bicycle, blue sky, clamps, cold, key, metal skates, roar of the wheels, roller skating, shoe skates, skate sliders, Snow, sunny, tingling, vest
Comments: 10 Comments
