Archive for the ‘Musings’ category
October 9, 2015
The morning was cloudy and cold when I woke up around eight. I decided the day was uninviting so I stayed in bed another hour. Since then the sun has appeared and warmed the day. Gracie and I have a dump run later. I haven’t told her. It’s a surprise.
This weekend is my fiftieth high school reunion. Tonight is a cocktail party, tomorrow morning coffee and pastries then a tour of the school and finally dinner tomorrow night. I don’t know quite what to think. Fifty years since high school, a whole half-century ago, seems like such a long time if you think of it by itself, in years, but I never gave thought to the year by year passing of time. My life has been measured by events.
There was the fall when I started college. I remember wearing the ugly blue beanie and being asked questions by the upper classmen. That was a breakout year. I was on my own. I don’t remember much, but I do remember the first college dance and the first party, but that last one is a bit hazy. I remember the junior prom at Wentworth by the Sea. We all had imbibed as the class advisor told the management we were of age. The funniest incident was when my friend Andy, as in Andrea, who had imbibed a bit too much, missed the choosing of the prom queen. She was so mad she wanted it declared invalid as she believed she would have been chosen, and we had to restrain her for a bit. My senior year brought the most memories. We had student teaching, and that’s when I knew I was destined to teach high school. We had our Friday get-togethers at the bar every week, a prom at the Marblehead yacht club where I remember toasting, drinking then throwing my glass overboard and then there was graduation. I remember standing in line in the hall. I remember getting my diploma. That was four years gone.
I remember flying to Philadelphia for staging then flying to Ghana, training there and living in Bolga for two years. I can describe everything. My time there lives in vibrant colors in my memory banks. I remember leaving and silently crying the whole flight from Tamale to Accra.
I remember getting my teaching job and teaching English and loving it. I remember the interview for administrator, and I remember when they chose me. I remember the first kid I had to suspend. He had a cast on his arm, and I hated calling his mother. I remember realizing I could retire in three years when I turned 57. That was like a jolt to my psyche. All I’d done for what would be 35 years would end.
I have been retired for 11 years and have alternated between being busy and being totally idle, sloth-like. I have spent entire summers on my deck. I finally made it back to Ghana, not once but twice. I remember walking out of the plane and smiling. Ghana had changed but it still felt like home to me.
In four paragraphs I have just described the last fifty years. Tonight I’ll celebrate those years.
Categories: Musings
Tags: college, dump run, fiftieth class reunion, half a century, life measured by events, Peace Corps Ghana, staging, sunny day
Comments: 16 Comments
October 8, 2015
Yesterday will not go down in the annuals as a good day. First one of the cats avoided the litter box for the floor. I guessed my cleaning of the box did not meet her high standards. When I came downstairs, I found one of the cats had been sick on the dining room floor, a common occurrence with cats. I then noticed Maddie was limping, her front paw was being held in the air. When she got on the table, I check her paw; she howled, bit me and ran. That is the first time in all her nearly 17 years that she has bitten me so I knew her paw was quite painful. I saw why: a nail was growing into a pad. The vets said they could fit us in at 11 so I went looking for Maddie. The last time I had seen her was around ten when she howled, bit and ran. I started a search of the house. By 10:45 I had to give up and cancel the appointment. Maddie didn’t reappear until 5:30. I had made an appointment for this morning so I grabbed her early and put her in the crate. She was really good in the car and let me pat her the whole way. The vet thought she looked healthy for an old cat though sort of skinny at 6 pounds, but I disagreed as she is such a small cat anyway. I decided to have Maddie take the old cat physical at $198.00 which included today’s visit. I wanted to made sure Maddie is nice and healthy inside and out. The vet cut the nail and another one in the exact same place on the other paw. Looks like Maddie will be getting her nails done more often. I also signed Fern up for her old cat physical.
Fish are good to look at. They have that calming effect as they move back and forth through the water. A bird sings and its song brightens the house. I knew a guy who had a tarantula as a pet. Some people have turtles. Pigs are now in vogue as house pets. I guess I’m just old fashion. I’m sticking with cats and a dog.
We got our first cat when I was a junior in high school. Before that we were a dog family. My father hated cats just because. He gave no reason other than they are cats. He was only home on weekends that year as he had been transferred to Presque Isle Maine, and we would be moving after school had ended. It was while he was gone we got the cat. My mother broke the news, and he said get rid of it before I get home. We didn’t. When my father first saw the cat, it licked his hand and his face. The cat stayed. My father had become a closet cat man.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Bad day, birds, cats, cats and dogs, Fish, hurt paw, physical, pigs as pets, tarantula, throwing up, turtles, vets
Comments: 6 Comments
October 6, 2015
We have anomalies today, and I haven’t quite interpreted their meanings. The sun is shining and the sky is blue. What do these heavenly signs portend? Might they be heralding the end of time and the destruction of all we know and hold dear? Or might this be just a sunny day, and I’m over-reacting?
My neighbor brought me dinner last night. I dined on rice, chicken and an okra dish, the best okra I’ve ever had with not a bit of the slime I’d come to associate with okra. That was a vegetable I didn’t even know existed until Africa where I ate okra soup many times the slime notwithstanding. I’m now adding okra to my list of favorite vegetables.
My brother had the job of emptying the baskets into the barrels kept in the cellar until trash day. It was his only job. I didn’t have a job though sometimes I’d set or clear the table if asked. I think boys and trash were a natural pairing when I was a kid. Back then girls had a certain behavior protocol which didn’t include trash. Any kitchen work was appropriate. Girls also had a stricter dress code than boys. I had to wear a dress or a skirt going to church which also meant I had to wear nice shoes and socks and a hat. I always felt over-dressed, and I was never one for prissy. My brother wore a collared shirt and nice pants. That was it. I envied him the casualness of his Sunday clothing.
Now that I look back, I liked having a Sunday. Every other day of the week was filled with school, playtime, movies, bike riding, watching TV and the so many other fun things we did to pack our days. Sunday was truly a day of rest. We were expected to stay around the house. We had that great family Sunday dinner. It was always special, not the usual fare. The one constant was mashed potatoes.
Sunday has lost its identity. That’s too bad as we all need to stop to take a breath, look around and be amazed at all we can see. Sunday used to be that day. It was special. I even wore a dress.
Categories: Musings
Tags: anomalies, blue sky, destruction, dress and hat, end of time, girls' dress code, heavenly signs, Okra, prissy, sun, Sunday clothing, sunny day
Comments: 8 Comments
October 5, 2015
Mondays are my late day as I go to my neighbor’s at ten and stay a couple of hours. She is from Brazil and thinks her English needs help so we chat. Through our conversations, I get the chance to explain and correct as best I can what she says wrong. Lately it has been subject-verb agreement though I never use those words. She is stuck on he have. She tells me English isn’t easy, and I totally agree.
No weather report today. Just look at yesterday’s and the day before that and on and on. I swear I saw a patch of blue sky but I may have been hallucinating.
I sometimes thought my dad was really born in another country and English was his second language. He had no idea how to spell words. He wrote them the way the way they sounded to him. I had the challenge of translating into English and typing what he wrote for the company newsletter. It took me the longest time to decipher some of the words. I’d read the sentence aloud over and over trying to figure out the word through context. Usually I was wrong. My dad couldn’t understand why I’d miss such easy words. I didn’t bother to explain.
We were a game playing family. Every Christmas we got new games. When we were young, we played board games. When we were older, we played card games. I remember so many nights sitting around the kitchen table playing cards. Cribbage was always my father’s game, and we played every time I visited and every time we traveled together. When it a bunch of us, we played all sorts of card games. Uno was our game for a while. My Dad never remembered to say uno when putting down his second to the last card so he always ended up having to pick up another card. That frustrated him, and he always used the appropriate swear to accompany his mental lapses. We laughed at him. He was never grateful. Finally, after two or three times of forgetting, he took a match book, put it in the middle of the table and said that was his uno. He didn’t have to say it any more. We handed him back his match book without a single word.
We played Jeopardy with clickers so the first person to click got to answer. My dad ignored the clicks. He’d answer whether he clicked or not. We sort of gave up on Jeopardy.
We played hundreds of games of Hi-Low-Jack mostly on Friday nights. One of my uncles was usually there. The bar was set up on the counter, and the kitchen was filled with smoke. Whoever sat out a hand was forced to be the bartender. Those nights were the best. We laughed all night long. We all made fun of my Dad, the perfect target. He bid high and often, and it was a pleasure to take a trick away from him with the jack of trumps. We all did it with a flourish just to antagonize him. If I had three wishes, one of them would be to have one more Friday night at my parents’ house with all of us there playing hi-low-Jack. I’d even volunteer to be the bartender.
Categories: Musings
Tags: board games card games, cold, conversations, counter bar, dank weather, game players, hi-low jack, learning English, new games, smoky room, Uno, verb agreement
Comments: 4 Comments
October 4, 2015
I am in a funk. I have been struck by malaise. Maybe it’s the rain’s fault. It does get old after 4 or 5 days. Maybe it’s my back which has been hurting and making me grumpy. My plans for the day were to stay home, not get dressed and lie in bed and read. Now I have to go out to get cat food. The only 2 cans left are back-ups, food I bought for them to taste which they hated and left untouched in the dish. Rather than toss the cans, I kept them as an emergency supply hoping hunger would overcome distaste. It didn’t happen so I have to get dressed and go to Agway. I thought I’d take a break today and not write Coffee, but then I got started and just kept going. I guess I need a place where I can whine and complain a bit.
The sun was out this morning for about ten minutes. I got hopeful. Foolish me! The gray, damp day has returned. I suspect we’ll have rain later. I had to run the heat again for one cycle this morning. With the cold, I have to keep the back door shut which complicates Gracie going in and out. I figure I’ll put the storm door in today. That’s a surrender of sorts.
Right now Gracie’s deep breathing, her occasional snores and the tap of the keys are all I can hear. The house is almost eerily quiet.
I have the habit of reading what I write out loud. I have to hear the words. My ears tell me more about the language than my eyes. I make corrections based on the sounds of the connected words and on the choices of words. Sometimes it takes me a while to correct a single sentence until it sounds right. I am now at the read aloud stage. I am done writing.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Agway, back pain, cat food, complain, funk, grouchy, heat, Storm door, surrender, whine
Comments: 10 Comments
October 3, 2015
Much as I appreciate the rain, the darkness worms its way inside sapping my energy, making me sluggish and listless (which can actually be taken a couple of ways as I haven’t a list today. Despite my mood it seems I can still conjure a pun).
This morning the house was so cold I decided to stay in bed and did so for another hour. I read my new book so the hour was not wasted. When I finally came downstairs, I saw 61˚ on the thermostat. I turned on the heat to warm the house. Now it is cozy. All three animals are asleep for their morning naps. Each has her own room: Fern is in the living room, Maddie likes the cushions in the dining room and Gracie takes the couch.
While I was reading this morning, silent reading came to mind. I have no idea why. I haven’t heard or thought about that in years. It used to be a graded subject on my grade school report card. You either got a U or an S. I always got the S for satisfactory though it probably should have meant superb given how many books I sneaked and read during class time. The nuns didn’t teach silent reading as the name said it all so I used to wonder how silent reading was graded. What were the standards? Doesn’t move lips could have been one as moving lips is like talking. Doesn’t shuffle feet or look around could have been a couple more. Maybe posture was part of the grade, but that’s a bit of a stretch. The number of pages wasn’t a fair standard. Not every kid was honest. I really think it was made up so nuns could have a break whenever they needed one. I remember they used to tell us to read silently to ourselves. When I got older, I wondered how you could read silently to someone else, maybe in sign language which none of us knew, but I never dared ask. Nuns could be scary when they were mad.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 61˚, darkness, heat, new book, no energy, rain
Comments: 18 Comments
October 2, 2015
I never did get around to changing my bed, a nap got in the way. I guess I’ll have to do it today to complete my list. The only problem is I haven’t the energy and I certainly don’t have the enthusiasm. Bed changing doesn’t engender any.
The rain stopped for a bit yesterday afternoon so Gracie and I left for the dump. When we were about half-way there, the rain started again just as I suspected it would. That always happens. It rained all the rest of the day and all night. It is still raining, and there is a wind strong enough to sway the tops of all the trees. The weather forecast in the paper this morning said rain for the next three or four days.
On rainy days my first grade cloakroom was always dark. The walls were made of wood, and there wasn’t any light. When I’d walk into my classroom, all the lights seemed as bright as the sun. The only noise in the classroom was the rain beating against the windows. We spoke only in whispers. I can’t explain why, but it was as if the rain had muted our voices. I was always drawn to the rain on the windows. I’d follow a drop all the way down until it got smaller and smaller and finally disappeared. The nun and my classmates were background murmurings to the rain. That was the year I watched the rain.
My fourth grade classroom was on the second floor. The long windows looked out only to the sky. I was in the last seat in the first row. I had a panoramic view of the whole room but couldn’t see the windows behind me. That was the year I heard the rain.
In the eight grade, my classroom was on the second floor of the new school. My seat was right beside the windows. I could see the whole school yard and the road beside it. I could hear even the smallest drops of rain hit the windows. I could look out and see the rain falling sideways in sheets blown by the wind. Other times the rain fell straight down in a thunderous deluge. The misty rain fell gently, quietly. That was the year I could see and hear the rain.
Categories: Musings
Tags: changing the bed, cloakroom, drops of rain, listening to the rain, rain and wind, rainy day, school classroom lights, watching raindrops, windows
Comments: 10 Comments
October 1, 2015
My mother would have called it a deluge. The rain all day yesterday was so heavy it was deafening. The wind came later and then the night got cold. Today is dark, damp and cold. The rain will be back, if not tonight, definitely tomorrow.
When I let Gracie out this morning, I noticed a few yellow leaves on the tree near the driveway. They weren’t there two days ago. I think yesterday’s weather shocked the leaves into changing color. I checked out the rest of the yard and saw more yellow here and there. We now have real fall weather, no more 70’s. It will be in the 50’s the rest of the week.
I keep my outside sandals by the clothes tree in the living room. Around the house I wear flip-flops. Before I go out, I switch from one to the other. Today my feet are cold so I think it’s time to hunt down my slippers and my outside shoes. The sandals will be moved to their winter home, the closet. It’s a sad day.
I have a list of all the chores that need to be done, the ones I’ve ignored for a while. My book got in the way and then I got two new books and started one of them. I have no guilt over being a sloth, but the list seems to get longer and longer so I’m working on crossing off chores one by one. I’ve already cleaned the litter and brought the trash to the car. I have laundry to bring upstairs to put away and I need to change my bed. Once that’s done Gracie and I are going to the dump. I’ll stop to pick up a few groceries on the way home. That will finish my list and I can go back to more days of lolling about reading and eating bon bons, which happen to be on my list.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 50˚ weather, a day of heavy rain, cat litter, cold, dump, lists, winter shoes, yellow leaves
Comments: 6 Comments
September 29, 2015
It seems I get later and later but for good reasons. This morning it was a long library board meeting to choose officers. The length of the meeting had little to do with the election of unopposed officers. No, it was mimosas and pastries and conversation which kept us late.
I’m running out of adjectives to describe this gorgeous weather. It is in the mid-70’s and sunny with a breeze strong enough to swing the chimes. Tomorrow they’ll be downpours and over 3 inches of rain according to the weatherman. Not a single person is complaining. We need the rain, and we have had our share, more than our share, of beautiful fall days.
Where I grew up, we called it tonic. Down here they call it soda. By either name, we seldom had any in the house when I was a kid, ginger ale maybe for an occasional highball, my parents’ favorite drink when I was young, but nothing else. We drank milk, a combination of white milk and chocolate milk, both delivered by the milkman. My mother used to drink Tab until Diet Coke came along. My father was always a milk drinker. He loved a cold glass of milk with his Hydrox cookies or his Pilot crackers topped with butter. He’d be devastated now as both his favorites are no longer made. He’d probably start eating Saltines but never Oreos, maybe Newman-O’s which remind me of Hydrox. My dad was most particular about his snacks.
We called my mother the seagull because of what she ate. Leftovers were her favorite breakfast, and sometimes she ate them cold in a sandwich, including hot dogs cut in half and down the middle. She’d rummage in the fridge, pullout the covered dishes and build herself a sandwich. Cucumbers were a favorite topping. She was also a mayonnaise fan far more than a mustard fan. My mother liberally applied the condiment. Even with toast the butter was slathered. Grilled cheese, according to her, was best at its messiest.
I eat all sorts of foods and will try almost anything when I’m traveling. I think that’s the seagull in me.
Categories: Musings
Tags: beautiful fall days, Butter, chocolate milk, downpours, gorgeous day, grill cheese, highball, Hydrox, library board meeting, mayonaisse, messy foods, mimosas, Newman-O's, Pilot crackers, rain, seagull, soda, tonic
Comments: 8 Comments
September 28, 2015
Woe is me! Woe is me! My back was terrible yesterday, last night and this morning. I maneuvered by holding on to stuff as I moved. Last night I woke up several times when I heard moaning. No ghosts or spirits, just me. This morning you’d have sworn Quasimodo, Igor and I were blood relations sharing the same handicap. I was grouchy and miserable.
Now I am finally feeling better. The pain cream and the Aleve worked liked magic. Though I am not completely upright I no longer resemble the left side of the evolution chart.
The eclipse last night was awesome in the true definition of the word. I watched it all from the front of my house where I had an unobstructed view as the moon darkened. I was mesmerized when the blood moon appeared and lit up the sky. It was if the moon and the sky around it had been painted with water colors.
Today is the loveliest of days, sunny and warm. Rain is due the next few days, but it will be welcomed as we haven’t seen much rain since the summer began. Besides, this has been such a spectacular fall I can’t begrudge Mother Nature a bit of rain.
We used to iron the colored leaves between pieces of waxed paper. I didn’t understand why it happened. I just knew the wax paper kept the colors alive. I’d keep the leaves on my bureau as keepsakes. Sometimes I’d even use one as a bookmark. I think the bright red was my favorite color but the yellow was close behind. We’d pick the leaves up our way home from school and put them between the pages of our books so they wouldn’t get wrinkled. The single ones on the sidewalk were the best as the ones in the piles along the curbsides would crumble.
I could hardly wait to get home and change into play clothes. At the kitchen table, now transformed into a craft table, my mother would turn on the iron then tear off pieces of wax paper for us to use. I remember gliding the iron back and forth across the paper, and I remember when the leaves were captured by the melting wax. Every one was beautiful.
Categories: Musings
Tags: beautiful day, blood moon, eclipse, evolution chart, Igor, painful back, Quasimodod, wax paper and leaves', yellows and reds
Comments: 4 Comments
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