Archive for the ‘Musings’ category
March 18, 2016
Spring arrives this Sunday. I have this visual of winter packing its duffle bag while spring is unpacking its flowered tote. Spring, being experienced in the passing of the baton, will have packed a few sweaters and maybe a pair of bright yellow galoshes.
According to the weatherman, parts of the state will get snow on Sunday. I think it is just so wrong no matter how you look at it. If I were in charge, I’d make a law which prohibits snow once winter has skulked away. Luckily, we here on the cape will get mostly rain.
The sky is ominous in some spots right now. The weatherman has predicted afternoon showers. Gracie has her well dog visit to the vets this afternoon, and we’ll also go to the dump. That’s the spoonful of sugar.
St. Patrick’s Day was wonderful. Dinner was perfect. Everything was cooked just right. The meat was tender and delicious as were the vegetables. I love cabbage, but I don’t understand why. Its strange smell when it’s cooking seems to hang around far too long. I’m guessing one of the reasons I like it is I was an adult before I tried it for the first time so I brought no childhood food nightmares with me to the tasting.
When I was a kid, there were certain foods I hated. Beans, as you know, is one of them. Peaches have fur I can’t get passed though even if I could, I don’t like the taste. Over time I do keep trying the foods I wouldn’t eat. I came to love turnip. As for beans, no matter how many times I try beans of different varieties I still don’t like them. The only bean I’ll tolerate, actually the only bean I like, is green beans in that wonderful casserole which has been around for millennia. I grew into liking carrots by themselves instead of eating them mashed and mingled with potatoes the way my mother served them to us. Actually duped, not served, is the better verb here. My mother was being very clever and quite sly. It took a while before I realized potatoes didn’t turn orangey when cooked.
Categories: Musings
Tags: beans, cabbage, corned beef, duffle bag, flowered tote, Snow, spring, St. Patrick's Day, turnip, winter
Comments: 12 Comments
March 17, 2016
St. Patrick became part of my life when I was six. I went to St. Patrick’s Elementary School for eight years. From age 10 until age 16 I was a member of St. Patrick’s drill team. We were called the Shamrocks. Our uniforms were adorned with shamrocks. The color guard had one in the middle of their blouses and on the sash between the blouse and the skirt. The drill team also had shamrocks on their sashes. We represented St. Patrick’s parish, though, most times we used just St. Pat’s. The parish considered St. Patrick’s Day a holiday so we had no school.
When I was in college, my friends and I used to go to South Boston to watch the parade and visit the pubs. I do believe we often missed chunks of the parade while exploring those pubs. With a name like Kathleen Ryan, I was always welcomed. Two of my friends were Polish but on March 17th they were pseudo Irish. I think every one was.
My mother always made corned beef and cabbage with carrots, potatoes, onions and turnip. I’ve told you the famous story of the disappearing potatoes, but I like it well enough to tell it again. One St. Patrick’s day my dad was at the pot using a large spoon to fill his dish with the vegetables. His dish already had meat, carrots and onions on it. He wasn’t fond of turnips. He kept turning the spoon in the stew pot without picking up any more vegetables. Finally he asked my mother if she had forgotten the potatoes, his favorite vegetable. No, she hadn’t and nor would she ever. She took over the spoon and went hunting, but, like my father, found no potatoes. They had disappeared. That a leprechaun made off with them was always a possibility, but the truth was they had pretty much fallen apart having been in the liquid too long. There were a couple of small clumps but that was it for the potatoes. I had never seen a more disappointed look on my father’s face than when he realized the potatoes were gone.
My friends are serving corned beef and cabbage tonight. I’ll wear my Ryan sweatshirt and my shamrock socks.
May the Irish hills caress you.
May her lakes and rivers bless you.
May the luck of the Irish enfold you.
May the blessings of Saint Patrick behold you.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day!
Categories: Musings
Tags: corned beef and cabbage, disappearing potatoes, parade, shamrocks, St. Pat's drill team, St. Patrick's Day
Comments: 11 Comments
March 15, 2016
Last night it poured. The wind was so strong I could hear the trees creaking as they swayed. It was still raining when I woke up this morning. The dismal day made my decision an easy one. I’m staying home. I’m not getting dressed; however, I will brush my teeth and maybe even my hair but no promises on that last one. I wouldn’t want to overdo.
The town where I grew up was first populated in 1634. I didn’t know that back when I was young and even if I had, it wouldn’t have impressed me all that much. I’d have just thought it was old. It has all sorts of houses but few of them are made of brick. The newest ones when I was a kid were ranch houses all in rows and looking alike. Most of the other houses were build in the 30’s and 40’s and after the war. There are three octagonal houses, two of which are on the National Register of Historic Places. When I was a kid, they were my favorite houses. I didn’t know until later that they dated from the 1850’s. The William Bryant house was my favorite. It sits on a corner, has a small porch and a cupola on the roof. It was build for a shoe cutter. My town used to have a few factories where shoes were made. I remember when they closed the last one. It was the one right down the street from the square. The other house I like sits on top of a hill. It has a porch that wraps around the whole house. I used to imagine myself sitting in a rocking chair on the porch and watching the world go by.
The neatest place is the Dairy Dome on Main Street near the square. It serves ice cream in the summer and sells Christmas trees in the winter. When I was a kid, it was a gas station. The building is six-sided and really does have a dome.
On one street are huge white houses all in a row. I always thought the rich people lived in those houses. They are right up the street from the old train station, the end of the line.
When I go to visit my sister, I sometimes take a ride around town to see what has changed and what hasn’t. I always wish the railroad tracks were still there. They were part of many a Saturday adventure.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 1624, brush my teeth, home town, National Register of Historic Places., octagonal houses, rain, ranch houses, shoe cutter, stay home, William Bryant house, Wind
Comments: 8 Comments
March 14, 2016
I woke up late this morning and rushed over to my neighbor’s house in record time for our Monday’s at 10. My back was so bad I stopped three or four times before I got there. Today is cold and dank and doesn’t bolster my spirits in any way. I am sick and tired of winter and the few days of pseudo spring we’ve had.
The first load of wash is in the machine. I got tired of looking at it leaning against the cellar door. A second load sits on the floor waiting its turn. Adam and Eve before the apple had it easy.
When I was growing up, I never realized how much work my mother actually did around the house. I’d see her making dinner but that was about it. While I was at school, she cleaned, vacuumed, made beds, washed clothes and ironed. My empty bureau drawers would magically fill. My bed would be made and my room cleaned. I never gave any of that much thought. I don’t think I ever said thank you. I just supposed it was what mothers did.
I am living by myself which I quite enjoy. There are no expectations. Today I might do this or I might do that or I might do neither. I make lists only when I have lolled far too long. I believe a written list of chores is binding much like Moses must have felt walking down the mountain with the ten commandments. If the chore is there before my eyes, I have to do it though that’s where the comparison with Moses ends. His was mostly a don’t do list though there were a couple of have to’s. I am quite faithful to finishing my lists, and I cross off each completed item with a flourish.
Coffee was going on hiatus today but then I got started and the words just poured out. My two typing fingers had quite the work-out. I do have to stop, though, my first load of laundry is done and needs to go into the dryer. A woman’s work is never done, sort of.
Categories: Musings, Uncategorized
Tags: Adam and Eve, cold, dank, finishing lists, lists of chores, living alone, Moses, other's work, ten commandments, two loads of wash, washing clothes, written lists
Comments: 10 Comments
March 13, 2016
Today is another pretty day, warmer than it has been. I have feeders to fill so I’ll go out for a bit later.
I think I have a virus. It’s manifested by cleaning places not usually cleaned. Yesterday I took everything off my desk, which included snow globes and small wind-up toys from collecting phases. I could have written a short story in the dust. I cleaned the desk and washed all the globes and toys. I threw away papers from piles on the desk top. I organized everything. Next I lemon oiled the antique child’s desk in the bathroom. It holds all the guest towels. The den was next and I threw aways papers from a pile on the table. I had no idea why I saved what I did. There were phone numbers without names, old receipts and cards from different holidays. I threw away so much it can no longer be called a pile.
Today I am going to clean the cabinet under the bathroom sink. It serves a variety of purposes including being a liquor cabinet. I haven’t seen the back of that cabinet in years.
My sister diagnosed my virus as boredom. I think she is probably right. I think boredom is the whole reason for spring cleaning. I’ve been shut up in the house because of freezing days and snow. I have gotten tired of TV and have spent too many days just sitting around and reading. I need to be doing.
I saw a purple crocus this morning, and there are now three yellow ones. The dafs are close to blooming. The garden’s winter slumber is over. Every day I see something new. With morning papers in hand I walk around all the beds to make sure I haven’t missed anything. The purple crocus is hope springing to mind.
Categories: Musings
Tags: boredom, cleaning virus, Dusting, dusty, lemon oil, piles of papers, polishing, sunny
Comments: 17 Comments
March 12, 2016
Today is lovely with a bright sun though I wish it were warmer than the 50’s. I noticed my hyacinth is so tall I can almost see the bumps of the whole flower. The daffodils have buds not yet ready to open but getting closer. The croci are blooming in the different flower beds. They grab your attention with their color as everything around them is still brown or grey.
Yesterday I needed only two things: toilet paper and orange juice. At first I figured to stay home and finish my book, but I knew I had no choice but to go out. Gracie and I left around 3:15. I decided I might as well go to the dump too. It was crowded. At one store, I checked to see if they had their spinach and puff pastry lattice topped hand pie. They didn’t but the cook said he’d make me some. It would take 15 minutes. I should have said no. I decided to walk around to waste time until the pies were done. I filled my cart. I bought yogurt, shrimp, a piece of pizza, a cinnamon coffee roll for this morning, some gourmet dog biscuits, honey and oranges. I did remember the toilet paper. Sometimes I go and forget what I need. I got my pies hot from the oven. I was praising them so much three other people bought some, and the pies were gone.
I don’t remember at what age I started to notice things like the spring flowers popping out of the earth or buds appearing on the branches. The changing leaves were easy to notice as we shuffled through piles of them on our way to school. Spring meant bike riding and light jackets, not flowers, to us. It meant Saturdays riding all over town. A chill was still in the morning air, but it wasn’t cold any more.
In retirement I have noticed the world I often overlooked when I worked. I have the time to look and see things like my bulbs growing taller and the appearance of the first small shoots of flowers in the front garden. I watch the birds. I stand outside in the early morning listening to their songs. My life has a far different pattern than it used to have. It is now filled with bright color and wavy lines which change from day to day. Life continues to be good to me.
Categories: Musings
Tags: coffee roll, color, Crocus, daffodils, dog biscuits, dump, hand pie, honey, hyacinth, life's patterns, Pizza, spring flowers, sunny day, Toilet paper
Comments: 11 Comments
March 11, 2016
When I was a kid, I believed in magic and magical creatures. I also knew Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny were real. That a bunny brought eggs didn’t seem at all strange. I never wondered how the Tooth Fairy carried all those coins and what she did with the teeth. I figured Santa stashed piles of toys all over so he could replenish his supply. A sleigh with eight tiny reindeer flying in the heavens made perfect sense. How else would Santa get around? I knew trolls needed to be duped or as a last resort avoided. The Three Billy Goats Gruff taught me that. Witches ate little children. I really didn’t believe the princess felt that pea under all those the mattresses. I loved the story Chicken Little. The rhythmic names of all the animals have stayed with me all these years. Henny Penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky Lucky, Goosey Loosey, Turkey Lurkey and the villain of the piece, Foxy Loxy. That the fox ate all of the animals never bothered me. It was silly Henny Penny who did, “The sky is falling!” My mother read Chicken Little to me just about every night.
I don’t know when skepticism crept in followed by disbelief, when I knew Santa Claus and the rest weren’t real. I wasn’t devastated with the revelation. I had two little sisters, and I never told them. I didn’t want to spoil the joy and the magic.
Even now I still cling to magic. I’m awed by fireflies. I watch them blinking and flitting across the backyard. When the first star appears, the nursery rhyme immediately comes to mind, and I make my wish, “Star light, star bright, The first star I see tonight; I wish I may, I wish I might, Have the wish I wish tonight.” I see creatures in clouds and the smile on the face of the man in the moon.
I don’t have to see something to know it’s there. I just have to keep believing. I figure a life without magic is dull indeed.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Bill Goag Gruff, Chicken Little, Easter Bunny, fireflies, first star, flying reindeer, magic, magical creatures, Santa Claus, Tooth Fairy, trolls
Comments: 10 Comments
March 10, 2016
My mood and the day are too similar to ignore. It rained earlier. The ground is still wet. The sky is a light grey. My mood is just a bit darker. I woke up very late and did not want to get out of bed. Gracie and Fern adjusted their respective positions on the bed, and we all went back to sleep. I had to force myself to get up. Two cups of coffee are just not enough today.
My house is clean. Roseana and Lee came yesterday. Dump day is tomorrow. I checked and the bird feeders still have seeds though I did have to replace the suet in both of those feeders. The clothes are all washed. There are no dirty dishes. I got books at the library yesterday. I finished the newspaper’s crossword puzzle. As all of this sounds like paradise, why the mood?
My voice is raspy. I have a headache. I am exhausted (spell check came up with a better word: exhumed) for no reason. All I can think of is maybe the cold I avoided knows spring is upon us and wants to get me before winter takes its final bow. This makes me unhappy. It also makes me grumpy.
I figure to loll in bed, take whatever medication I have and read the day away. That actually sounds inviting. The only thing missing is the maid and a bell by my bed to summon her.
This will last a day or two as I’m not coughing or blowing my nose. On the measurement of colds, something I just made up, I’m about a 3 or a 4 out of 10. If I were a little kid, my mother would have sent me to school: two symptoms do not a cold make.
The worst part of a kid’s cold is a runny nose. I hated having a runny nose. My mother used to stuff my pockets with Kleenex. That left a dilemma. Where do I put the used Kleenex? I couldn’t keep getting up from my desk to put them in the trash so I’d stash them in my school bag or the pocket of my sweater if I happened to be wearing one. Nothing is worse than a used Kleenex.
My mother usually had a Kleenex or two in her handbag. The problems were the Kleenex was a crumbled mess, often had lipstick on it and brown bits of tobacco from my mother’s cigarette package clung to it. I had no choice but to use that Kleenex. It was always a mystery to me why my mother didn’t want it back. To me, it sort of fit right into her bag.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bird seed, clean clothes, clean house, cloudy, coffee, cold, grumpy, Kleenex, libstick, light grey sky, loll in bed, Paradise, rain, raspy voice, read, sleeping in, suet feeders, tired, tobacco, unhappy
Comments: 19 Comments
March 8, 2016
We have actually hit 50˚ today because there is no wind. The day is bright and the sky is clear of any clouds. I just got back from my library board meeting so I’m done for the day. My outside clothes are going to be replaced by my inside comfy clothes. I brought home three books from the library, and I have yet to read the morning papers. I’m thinking turning pages might just be my only exercise for the day.
Libraries have always been favorite places for me. I used to go at least once a week when I was a kid. The librarian probably didn’t think I was reading all the books because I returned them so quickly. You’d think librarians of all people would understand how books capture you and how difficult it is to put a good book down. I’d sometimes read a book in one day. I’d even read during class by hiding my book inside a textbook. It had to be a big textbook. The best was always geography with history a close second. Not once did I get caught. I’d turned the text book pages to make it all look real. I was adept at concealment.
When I was in Ghana, I read constantly and swear I read most of the books in the Bolga library. We had no radio, no TV and terrible movies shown once in a while in town at the Hotel d’Bull, the hot spot of Bolga back then. Preparing to teach the next day never took long and neither did correcting so with all this time to fill I read. Trips anywhere took what seemed forever so I learned to read while I was on the bus. It used to make me dizzy and sick when I was younger, but I got used to reading on the road in Ghana. Anytime I had a volunteer stay with me, book swapping was part of the visit. We all carried books. When I was in Accra, I’d go to Legon to the main campus of the University of Ghana. It had a book store. I always spent a good bit of money there. Books were almost as important to us as food and water. I don’t think that’s changed.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 50˚, Bolgatanga, books, comfy clothes, concealment, Ghana, hiding novels, Legon, librarians, libraries, library board meeting, new books to read, no wind, reading in class, reading on buses, sunny and warm
Comments: 17 Comments
March 7, 2016
This morning was hopeful. I saw my first crocus in the front garden. It is bright yellow and is the only color I can see. The sun was shining when I woke up. The birds were in and out of the feeders. The coffee was delicious. Now, a mere three hours later, it is cold and dreary. I don’t know where the sun went, but it disappeared quickly. The crocus is closed. The world is back to being grey and dreary.
I spend two hours with my neighbor. We chatted about foods, relatives, weather and the verb doesn’t. She seems to prefer don’t as in he don’t. I told her I’d start charging her money for all the times she uses the wrong verb. My grandmother and my father used don’t all the time and they were born in this country. I might be fighting a losing battle.
Gracie and I are going out later. She is out of canned food, and I am out of bread, two essentials for our lives. Lately I have been into naan. Gracie has been into whatever I feed her.
When I was a kid, our boxer, Duke, ate two cans of food every day. Back then it was horse meat. It smelled gross. I hated when it was my turn to feed Duke. I’d turn my head away as I was spooning his dinner into his dog bowl. Duke loved his dinner.
My electric can opener is among the missing. I moved it from the counter and now I can’t find it. I am back to using the old silver can opener where you turn the wheel around the cover. It works great except on the larger cans. With some cans I use a churchkey mostly when something to be poured is in the can. I also keep a churchkey in my car. It is one of those things you need when you don’t have it.
Every time I travel I take my Swiss Army knife. It has every possible gadget I might need on my journey. It used to be with me but now it travels as cargo being a weapon and all. I’ve have it forty-seven years. The tweezers and the toothpick are missing, but other than those, the knife is in perfect condition. I have a really small one I keep on my keychain. It comes in handy.
On the Amazing Race last week one of the tasks was to put together a Swiss Army knife. It is done by hand piece by piece, blade by blade. Now I know why they are so expensive. When the teams were leaving for Switzerland, one team member wanted to know what language is spoken there. Swiss, of course, was the answer. The best question of the season so far was also last week. In what country is Switzerland?
Categories: Musings
Tags: Bread, Can opener, canned dog food, churchkey, coffee, color, Crocus, dog food, don't or doesn't, errands, hopeful, horse meat, moring, sun, Swiss army knife, Switzerland
Comments: 20 Comments
