Archive for the ‘Musings’ category
August 20, 2015
We have rejoined the world. The doors and windows are open to the breeze. The stale air is disappearing. It is still hot but not unbearably hot. Here in the dark den all three animals are sleeping near me, each in her special spot. The breeze is coming mostly from the north, from the window behind me. Pleasant best describes the morning. I usually shy away from using generic adjectives. I was, after all, an English teacher, but I think pleasant conjures all the best of today: the sun, the clean, dry air and most of all the breeze.
When I was a kid, I had little concept of time other than a few minutes, an hour and maybe as far away as tomorrow. “Are we there yet?” drove my father and every father crazy, but it was because we had been in the car for what seemed like hours or even days so we figured we had to be there no matter how far away there was. We had countdowns to birthdays and the best of all days, Christmas, but the whole concept was a little blurry. Three weeks until Christmas really didn’t mean a whole lot to us. Even the number of days in three weeks didn’t help. We understood two days or maybe three days, but we never really caught on until the big day was close, like a day away. When you’re six, every day is endless.
Time in Ghana was frustrating at first. Six o’clock meant six o’clock to us but not to a Ghanaian to whom six o’clock meant whenever. If I invited someone to my house, I was always asked if I meant African or European time. I had been raised to be punctual, a courteous sign of respect, so it took me a while to unlearn European time. I learned to be patient and to wait. People would come in their own time. Lorries would leave when they were full. Stores would open when the owners got there. Dresses would be finished when the seamstress got around to finishing them.
I had to be on time for my classes and to take the government bus, but that was it. I came to like Ghanaian time. I was never late to anything. Things got done whenever. Life was slow and easy. I didn’t even wear a watch, still don’t.
Categories: Musings
Tags: African time, Are we there yet?, cooler day, countdown days, endless days, European time, Ghana, holidays, hours, minutes, opened windows and doors, Peace Corps Ghana, sleeping animals, time
Comments: 8 Comments
August 18, 2015
The hoopla is over, the festivities finished. The floor is covered in confetti. The balloons have lost helium and now are floating close to the ground. The cake is but a memory, a sweet memory. Last night my friends took me to dinner at the South African restaurant. It was the culminating event. Now my birthday is put away for another year.
The heat continues. We are still living behind closed doors and shuttered windows. Yesterday It became official. Boston is in the midst of a heat wave, three consecutive days above 90˚. We have been a bit cooler thanks to the ocean so no heat wave. The high 80’s don’t rate. They are just plain hot days.
Usually by this time in the summer, I’d done everything so many times I was getting bored. The joy of playing outside late had lost its luster. It was no longer a novelty. It was too hot during the day to do much. We’d bike ride, stop at a shady spot and just sit there until the sweat had stopped rolling down our cheeks, and we were cool enough to get back on our bikes. At every bubbler we’d drink water and wet our heads so we’d feel cooler. Bottled water was a long way in the future. Behind the town hall was a bubbler and another was in the middle of the field at the back of the baseball diamond near my house. That last one gave me the energy to get up the hill to my house.
We’d never have admitted it but it was exciting to get new clothes even if it was for school. We always got new shoes and socks and one new outfit for the first day of school because we didn’t have to wear our uniforms that day. We’d shop with my mother for the new outfit. The rest of the school clothes she’d just buy without us. The new white blouses and new blue skirts, our school uniforms, were never exciting so we didn’t care what my mother chose. It wasn’t as if there were a lot of options.
When I worked, I’d be back full time by now. Seldom did that mean new clothes for me.The excitement was gone.
Categories: Musings
Tags: above 90˚, air-conditioning, Birthday finished, bored with summer, bubbler, Heat Wave, new shoes, school clothes, school uniforms, sweaty, too hot
Comments: 10 Comments
August 17, 2015
Mr. Arbuthnot, an expert weatherman, was interviewed by the Sun Chronicle. His weather report is as follows: “It may become “steamy,” “sultry” and even “stifling,” but never “hot.” The temperature will soar, of course. It will set records. it will be a record-breaking heat wave. The average person will swelter, of course. Hence the phrase “sweltering temperatures.” They will also roast, broil, fry and steam. They may also sweat it out, but not in polite company. These people will seek relief by flocking, en masse to the beach, to the lakeside or to neighborhood pools. The roads to these places will be jammed, moving at a crawl and populated by exasperated motorists. For those who can’t escape, they will beat the heat by not going outside which will cause utilities to be strained, overloaded and working to capacity. This will cause scattered outages, perhaps, or possibly rolling blackouts.The heat wave will finally break thanks to pop-up thunderstorms and scattered thunder showers. Mr Arbuthnot’s final words to his audience, ‘It’s not the heat. It’s the humidity.'”
I figure you’ve guessed today is cliché day which reminds me of the best principal I ever worked with. His only imperfection was his reliance on clichés. I used to keep count whenever he spoke to the staff and sometimes he reached double digits. My mother always used to say someone had a tough row to hoe. When I was young, I had no idea what she was talking about. Why would anyone hoe a row? He’s a good egg was one my father often used. I knew my dad was complimenting whomever, but why a good egg was what I wondered. When I cracked open my first bad egg in Ghana, I totally understood. What I don’t get still though is why the farm metaphors.
Animals seem to be cliché targets. I’m guessing it is because they can’t complain. Somebody works like a dog, goes on wild goose chases, plays when the cat’s away, does something whole hog, waits until the cows come home, is stubborn as a mule and strong as an ox. My favorite is the straw which broke the camel’s back.
I slept like a log last night after burning the midnight oil. I woke up fresh as a daisy and happy as a clam. With the AC on, I am in the lap of luxury; however, today I turned older than dirt!
Categories: Musings
Tags: " "sultry" and even "stifling, " but never "hot.", "steamy, cliche day, flocking, good egg, heat, tough row to hoe
Comments: 24 Comments
August 16, 2015
Last night was my 50th reunion from high school, the high school from which I didn’t graduate though I went there for three years. Before my senior year, my parents kidnapped me and forced me to move to the cape ( that’s how I first felt back then). Friends I hadn’t seen since my junior year in high school went looking for me so I could attend, and they found me on Facebook. The whole evening was great fun. They even gave me a diploma, a real one from way back in time. It was signed by Sister Melania, the principal at the time. The signature is pure nun which I can’t really explain, but if you saw it, you’d understand.
The drive home, a two-hour ride, was unbelievable. The thunder rolled and lightning lit up the sky. I swear I saw the lightning dance. It looked like the jitterbug with the arms and legs of both dancers moving in tandem. Another series of lightning bolts looked like the God and Adam in the Sistine Chapel with fingers extended but not touching. Some bolts reached from the heavens to the earth. It was spectacular.
The rain storm was something else. It was raining so hard I slowed to a walk. The backwash from trucks made it almost impossible to see so I followed the red lights of cars in front of me and hoped for the best. The rain stayed with me but became a windshield wiper storm, and I could see the road and cars again. I drove in and out of the rain until about Plymouth when it just stopped. I don’t know if the cape got any rain as the road was totally dry. It took me about two hours to get home.
I am sitting in my air-conditioned house. I was taken aback by the heat when I got the papers. It will be in the 80’s all week. I do not suffer heat well. The young me did, but this me prefers to be comfortable. I think getting older should have some perks and being cool on a hot day is one of them. I do have a long list of the rest of the perks but most of them are unlikely. Having someone cater to my every whim probably won’t happen, but I’ll not cross it off the list just in case.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 50th reunion, AC, backwash, diploma, God and Adam, heavy rain, hot day, lightning bolts, Sistine chapel, spectacular lightning, thunder and lightning
Comments: 8 Comments
August 15, 2015
No Coffee today! I am taking a break as I have much to do and only a little time in which to do it. To add to the time crunch, I’m going off Cape at 4.
Fern seems to be hurting less so I guess the medication is working. She made it upstairs and jumped on my bed, but if I were an Olympic judge, she would be getting a 4 or maybe a 5 at best. Her landing still needs work.
I’ll be back tomorrow!
Categories: Musings
Comments: 4 Comments
August 14, 2015
The days of summer seem to run together. When I wake up, I often forget what day it is. My trick is to remember yesterday then let today slide in its place. Some days are the same, my favorite days, the ones which have no lists. Today is not one of them.
Fern had to go to the vet’s yesterday. She hated the ride and messed the crate going and coming, but when she got to the vet’s, she was calm and investigated everything. She even watched a dog out the window. I took her because she was limping. The vet, Gracie’s vet, said the ligament in the back leg joint is looser than it should be. Surgery would correct that, but she thinks Fern is too old so we are going with pain killers and the hope over time it will mend itself. I help by carrying Fern up and down the stairs.
I don’t spend much time with people any more. I have a play on some Wednesdays and Fridays and movie night on Saturday. That’s it. The rest of the time I’m by myself. I’m just fine with that. I don’t really miss people all that much though I always do enjoy my time with friends. I remember when I first lived alone. I hated it. It was in Ghana. I was homesick and lonely, craving people. I had my students but they didn’t fill the void.
It took a few long months before I was comfortable with myself and could fill and enjoy my time. That was a life lesson for which I am forever thankful. It is not one I ever expected. Peace Corps is so much more than you can imagine.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Bolgatanga, by myself, favorite days, few people, Ghana, lists, pain killers, Peace Corps, Peace Corps Ghana, people, quiet times, remember yesterday, vet appointment, what day of the week
Comments: 12 Comments
August 13, 2015
Gracie and I are out on the deck. She is sleeping in the shade of the oak and pine trees. It isn’t quiet. Inside my house Roseanne and Lee are cleaning, and I can hear the vacuum and conversations in Portuguese. My next door neighbor is back from Brazil. I can hear her yelling at her kids, but she too speaks Portuguese so I have no idea what the kids are doing. The ever-present birds fly in and out. They eat at the feeders and wait in line to use the fountain as a bird bath. Gracie thinks it’s a water fountain. All of us appreciate it. The day is lovely, warm in the sun but cool with a nice breeze in the shade. I am in the perfect spot.
Yesterday morning I was up early. When I went to get the papers, I could feel, hear and smell the morning. That probably sounds strange, but I swear early mornings are different. It doesn’t matter where you are. Ground fog rises in the morning and lingers until the sun holds sway. Birds sing louder than during any other part of day. On city streets, outside the small cafes, sidewalks are swept and chairs and tables are arranged. Some places serve eggs and bacon but others serve cold cuts, rolls and cheese. The bread is always fresh, soft. In other places the smell of wood burning fills the air as breakfast is cooked over the flames. Smoke curls above the fires. There are fewer people out and about in the early mornings. They always look a bit sleepy to me as if they have yet to find the day.
I am also drawn to the night. I love staying up late and being the only one still awake. The houses around me are dark except for the one behind me. He leaves his back light on. I think of him as the unpleasant neighbor. If Gracie barks more than three times, he yells which makes her bark more. He plays his country music so loud on Saturdays I have to go inside the house for a bit of peace. I don’t yell, one in the neighborhood is enough.
Last night I went outside to try to see the meteors. I was barefoot and walked tentatively as I didn’t turn on the light. My feet got wet on the grass, but I avoided the pitfalls and made it to the road without incident. I stayed for about 40 minutes, saw only two, got discouraged and went inside.
Categories: Musings
Tags: birds, curling smoke, fountain, lights, machines, mornings, night time, Portuguese, restaurants, sidewalks swept, singing birds, sleepy people, unpleasant neighbor, vacuum, wood fires
Comments: 6 Comments
August 11, 2015
Finally we have rain. It started gently, but now I can hear a heavier rain and drops plunking as they hit the umbrella yet there is no fierceness about this rain. The forecast does say a thunderstorm for the afternoon. I hope so.
I was a fearless kid. I think most kids are. On the swings we’d pump and pump our legs until we were going faster and higher. Once we got high enough, we’d jump off and fly for just a little bit. We climbed trees and crossed ponds using makeshift rafts. We tried to ride horses bareback in the field. We climbed the water tower. I remember once my friend and I needed to cross the highway for a shortcut home. It was two lanes then two more lanes in the other direction for us to cross. We stood and watched for a break in the traffic then ran across the first two lanes to the grassy median where we sat for a bit catching our breaths before the next leap. When we were ready, we stood beside the traffic watching for a break. When it came, we ran across to the other side then jumped the fence. To us it was no big deal, but I suspect my mother would have been horrified as the traffic was fast and heavy on that highway, Route 93. We had no doubt we’d be safe. We were kids. We were invincible.
A few broken bones and chipped teeth later I know invincibility isn’t true, but that hasn’t stopped me. I like the adventure, the novelty of trying new things, of going new places and eating strange foods. I love off the beaten track and find it odd other people don’t. Life is filled with so many possibilities I wish I could try them all.
Categories: Musings
Tags: crossing the highway, fast cars, fearless, four lanes, higher and faster, rafts, Route 93, running across the highway, running in traffic, swings, tree climbing
Comments: 14 Comments
August 10, 2015
My alarm clock, one of the most jarring sounds in the world, woke me up today. I had to be out and about early as I was having my car serviced and wanted a bit of coffee time before I left. I had to be at the dealer a while, and as waiting is not my strong suit, I brought a book so the time went by quickly. On the way home I had to make a couple of stops, but I am now in the comfort of kith and kin.
The drive home gave me time to woolgather. A hula hoop came to mind, but I don’t know why because it wasn’t a favored toy as I was the worst hula hooper in the whole neighborhood. I just couldn’t keep it spinning more than a couple of times. A couple of show-offs could spin two at the same time, one around a waist and the other around an arm. I was impressed but pretended not to be. A Slinky also popped into my head. It was really a silly toy. You can make it jump from hand to hand or have it go down the steps. That was it for Slinky. After couple of times down the stairs, Slinky became boring. Besides, the metal easily bent or got connected one to another and then Slinky could do nothing. It was trash bin time.
Paper dolls were fun but were a lot of work. First I had to cut out the doll and all her paper clothes. That took some finesse as I had to be careful not to cut off the tabs which held the clothes on the paper doll. Kid scissors could never do the trick so I had to use my mother’s scissors. They were big and bulky so following the lines to cut took some effort. I played with the dolls as if they were people. I’d hold a doll in each hand and carry on conversations in different voices: high for girls, lower for boys. They’d have adventures for which I’d have to change their outfits. I remember the girls had mostly frilly dresses and sometimes a bathing suit, one piece of course. Props too were part of the outfits. At the beach we had a pail and shovel and a beach ball, both difficult to cut. My paper dolls always had names, but I don’t remember any of them.
I do remember the first electronic toy under the Christmas Tree. It was Battleship with sounds, and it was a gift to my father. He enjoyed playing it against me or my brother for a while but then it got put away in the toy closet down cellar, and, like the other toys in that closet, it seldom saw the light of day again.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Battleship, beach balls, car servicing, cutting out paper dolls, doll outfits, electronic Batteship, Hula Hoop, paper dolls, reading, ride, Slinky, waiting
Comments: 12 Comments
August 9, 2015
Today is chilly and damp, the sort of day when being inside the house is like wrapping a blanket around you. The house is dark, but I haven’t turned on any lights. I don’t mind the darkness. When I was a kid, this was a favorite kind of day. I’d lie in bed with the lamp on, the one which hung on the headboard, and read. I was never bothered as the TV drew all the attention, and anybody coming upstairs was heading to the bathroom and pretty much ignored me. I have nothing I need to do today so I won’t even get dressed. I will read away the day.
I was part of an easily amused generation when I was growing up. We didn’t have electronics or computers or cell phones. Board games were the best fun. We’d sit on the rug in the living room, set up the game and play all afternoon. The only movement in the game came when I’d move a man around the board. We’d play cards, even war which is about the dullest of all card games. Slap Jack was fun because you got to whack a faster player’s hand. We played Crazy Eights and Steal the Old Man’s Pack. I always thought that was a neat name for a card game and wondered why it was an old man, maybe because we already had Old Maid.
I remember sitting at the kitchen table coloring. The crayons were all different sizes. Some were full size but many were stubs worn down by use. I had to guess the colors of those as the paper had been torn off as the crayon was shortened. The older I got the better I got at coloring. I learned how to shade the colors, to apply the crayons lightly. Every Christmas I always got a new coloring book and new crayons. The books were mostly Christmas scenes and red, green and brown got a lot of use.
We did get bored sometimes stuck in the house as we were on some rainy days. I remember my mother going crazy when we moaned and groaned about nothing to do. She was expected to keep us entertained. I guess we always thought of her as the house cruise director. She was never honored by the title.
Categories: Musings
Tags: board games, chilly and damp, coloring books, crayons, Crazy Eights and Steal the Old Man's Pack, darkness, easily amused generation, favorite day, light on the headboard, reading all day, slap Jack, warm day
Comments: 8 Comments
keepthecoffeecoming.blog 