Archive for the ‘Musings’ category
May 26, 2015
Today, according to the paper, will be a warm one, in the 70’s. I, however, am a bit skeptical as the clouds have obscured the sun, and there is a stiff breeze. My list is long today. I have several places to go. Yesterday I bought herbs and perennials and a few tomatoes. I wanted more veggies, but there were none, all had been sold. I’ll try a couple of other garden centers hoping to find my snap peas.
Lots of people were down for the weekend. The line to go off cape was miles long, but the wait was not unexpected. It happens every Sunday and turnover Saturdays until Labor Day. The sun and surf carry a big price.
I never cared whether or not we went on vacation. Saturday night was usually the drive-in and Sunday the beach. We went to Maine a few times and stayed at my father’s friend’s cottage, the tiniest place ever. Beds were build-in wherever there was space so the place could sleep 10 or 12 people. On both sides of the cottage, the nearest neighbors were within spitting distance. The water was too cold for swimming. There was really nothing for me to do. It was my least favorite vacation spot, but it was free so I was stuck.
We never came down the cape. We went north. I remember seeing the Old Man of the Mountain, now gone, the flume and the top of Mount Washington. My dad drove our car up he mountain on what I thought was a really narrow road. We were on the outside and there were no rails. I could see right down the mountain, but what I remember most is how cold it was on the top of Mount Washington ever though it was summer. I think we did that trip in a day.
There was a lake we went to which had a slide into the water, a regular slide, nothing fancy, and a zip line you held onto with both hands. I don’t remember the name of the lake, but we it was always a day trip. I liked lake water. It was always warm, and if I happened to swallow some water, it wasn’t gross like salt water. We would swim almost for the whole day stopping only for lunch and then the hour wait so we wouldn’t die of cramps.
It never occurred to me that we seldom went away. Summers always seemed busy. We had that one huge trip to Niagara Falls, but that was it. I still remember every stop on that trip. It must have taken my parents a long time to save enough money. I remember it as my first visit to a foreign country.
Categories: Musings
Tags: errands, lakes, long lines, Maine, Mount Washington, Niagara Falls, Old Man of the Muntain, plants, spitting distance, the flume, tiny house, vacations, warm day, weekend crowd
Comments: 10 Comments
May 23, 2015
Today is beautifully sunny but cold. Fern didn’t join us last night because the open window made the room really chilly. I needed to snuggle under the comforter, and Gracie needed to snuggle next to me.
This is the first big weekend here. Yesterday afternoon traffic to go over the bridge was backed up for three miles. People are anxious for summer to wipe out the memories of winter and endless snow storms. Other than today, the weekend will be warm, even in the 70’s. I figure the beaches will be filled but not yet the water. It is still too cold.
When I was a kid, this was a big weekend. I got to march in the town’s parade first as a brownie then as a girl scout. I remember being so excited I was part of the parade. People would come and watch me. I, not ever being shy, would wave. It wasn’t the queen’s dainty wave. It was more enthusiastic with a quick back and forth. We never really marched in any sort of beat or formation. We just walked. The best part of the parade was marching by my parents. They clapped, waved and yelled my name. I was thrilled. The parade always finished at the cemetery where there were speeches. We stood way in the back, and I never really listened.
Memorial Day was always the start of summer for us. Bulky clothes were gone. It was time for the end of school countdown. The grasshoppers returned to the field and the polliwogs to the swamp. Darkness came late so the streetlights stayed unlit. Supper was a bit more casual maybe sloppy Joes or burgers or on Fridays fried dough. The windows were all opened so the air was sweet and the bedrooms seemed bigger, airier. Life was good.
Categories: Musings
Tags: brownies and girl scouts, cold ocean, Memorial Day weekend, start of summer, sunny but cold, town's parade
Comments: 43 Comments
May 22, 2015
The rain started around 12:30 last night. I was lying in bed when I heard the first drops plunking the sill then more drops. The sound was soothing almost like a lullaby. I drifted off to sleep. When I woke this morning, everything was soaked but the rain had stopped. The sky soon cleared and the sun came out. The morning has that after rain chill you know won’t last.
The spawn and I are now openly avowed enemies in an endless war. When I saw it on the feeder earlier, I went out and tried to sneak the hose, but the spawn heard, jumped off the feeder and sat on the back of the lounge chair flitting its tail at me and chattering. It was irate. I got the hose anyway, and the spawn took off running onto the branches still chattering at me. It stopped a couple of times, looked at me and let me have it. Later I noticed it was back so I went out on the deck, but the spawn immediately took off though I think I managed to spray it a bit. This spawn has become my white whale.
Last night I watched an old Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations. It was his trip to Ghana which I had seen first time around in 2007. It was Bourdain’s first trip to sub-Saharan Africa which, according to him is a large, mysterious land mass. On the voice-over he mispronounced Accra then did it again and again even though the Minister correctly pronounced. He also mispronounced akpeteshie, a homemade really strong alcohol in Ghana. He drank it a few times and raised his glass in appreciation, but I don’t think he really liked it. His face was a giveaway, but he didn’t want to offend so he smiled and the Ghanaian men loved it. The filming was all over Ghana and even in the Northern Region though he didn’t take an overnight bus but rather a Ghanaian Air Force helicopter. He ate in a chop bar, in a market and right by the ocean with the Minister of Tourism. He said he loved the variety of hot peppers which I didn’t always. Sometimes the food was so hot you couldn’t taste other than the pepper. He had it all, the best Ghanaian food: kenkey, fufu, t-zed, palm nut stew, groundnut stew and rock lobsters fresh from the ocean. I envied him the lobsters and remembered eating them in Dix’s Cove. We had paid a couple of guys who got them for us right there in the water then they boiled them in a pot on a charcoal burner sitting on rocks by the water. That was an all time amazing meal. I watched Bourdain wander through Makola Market tasting food along the way. He ate plantain chips and I wanted some. He even tried grasscutter and was glad he hadn’t seen one until after he’d eaten. It is a rodent but a rather tasty rodent.
I loved watching Ghana unfold through dancing, music, Kente weaving, clothes made of colorful cloth, the faces of its beautiful children and the joy the Ghanaians take in welcoming a visitor. Bourdain got that part perfectly.
Categories: Musings
Tags: a war of human versus squirrel, Anthony Bourdain and Ghana, Fufu, kenkey, palm nut stew, plantain chips, rain. beautiful morning, red spawn of Satan, T-Zed
Comments: 12 Comments
May 21, 2015
Earlier, when I let Gracie out, I followed her to the deck. The air smelled sweet the way it does on a chilly spring morning. The sun was shining but soon went behind a cloud. The weatherman said maybe rain on Cape Cod today.
When I looked out the upstairs bathroom window, I noticed something red high up on a pine tree. I went outside to investigate. It appears to be a plastic bag, part of the nest of what I think is a grey squirrel. The greys don’t bother me so I don’t mind identifying them. The nest had leaves on the outside, and I could see branches sticking up. Last summer Gracie caught a baby grey which I saved, and the summer before that I watched a mother grey lie down on branches to keep her baby from feeding. I figured it was time to leave the nest day. I’m thinking that same grey might just be back for another round of motherhood.
I woke up early, early for me that is, at 7:30. I had coffee, read the papers, made my bed, got dressed and then did an errand. That’s it for me for the day. I’m thinking I’ve accomplished a lot.
When I was kid, my mother woke us for breakfast then afterwards hustled us to get dressed for school. I think school started around 8. We always left in plenty of time. There were no busses in those days so everybody walked no matter how far away they lived. Our walk wasn’t too long. It took maybe 15 or 20 minutes. One of my friends walked from the other side of town. It was probably a mile or even two. Few cars delivered kids. It was the 50’s and most were one-car families, cars which our dads drove to work. I never thought about the walk even on rainy or freezing cold days. I didn’t ever complained. That was just the way it was.
I did love the springtime when my mother would let me ride my bike to school. I’d park it in the wooden bike rack, and even though my bike wasn’t locked, it was always there at the end of the day. The bikes back then weren’t fancy. They had big tires and back pedal breaks. Mine had a basket off and a silver bell on the handlebars. It had been a Christmas present when I was around nine or ten. It was the best present I ever got.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 7:30, bed making, cloudy, cool morning, errands, grey squirrel nest, mother squirrel, newspapers and coffee, plastic bag, school, school yard, sweet smelling, walking
Comments: 16 Comments
May 19, 2015
The day is dark, chilly and damp. Rain is expected. I’m guessing just as Gracie and I leave for the dump the skies will open and the rain will fall in sheets. I noticed the red spawn has been at the potted flowers again and there is soil all over the deck railing. This morning the spawn ran from the feeder as soon as I picked up the hose. It is wary now from too many showers. I’m thinking a slingshot.
When I was a kid, I seemed to be busy all of the time. I’d have school until 2 then rush home to play for the rest of the afternoon. My mother would call us inside close to supper time. I’d do my homework, have supper, watch some TV then get ready for bed. The day was spent in a flash. The whole week passed by almost before I’d noticed. Each Saturday and Sunday had a bit of a routine but those two days never seemed long enough.
During the summers when I was in high school, I sometimes whined and complained about having nothing to do. That drove my mother crazy. We didn’t have summer jobs back then so there was little to do all day long. What had delighted the kid me didn’t seem interesting any more. I didn’t ride my bike or walk to the pool or go to the playground. I just sighed a lot.
The summer after high school was when I got my first job: forty hours a week at Woolworth’s. It was the easiest job, and I jumped around doing all sorts of stuff to keep from getting bored. The only place I didn’t work was the food counter. I loved Woolworth’s food counter. It was straight and long with red vinyl stools moved in a circle for east seating. The women were all old, at least to me, and wore uniforms. Most had huge handkerchiefs as decorations atop their pockets. They kept pencils behind their ears. The wall had all the menu items listed including the flavors of ice cream. The dessert dishes had fluted tops. They were used for sundaes like my favorite of all, hot fudge. Real dishes were used for the sandwiches. They were whitish with a red ring around the inside rim. The hot dogs were wonderful cooked on the grill. The French fries were crisp and hot. Sometimes I’d have a grilled cheese sandwich, perfectly brown and gooey.
My mother and sister used to go to their Woolworth’s for a patty melt. The counter there was huge but divided almost into little islands each with its older lady taking orders. I went with them a few times, but it was sometimes a hot dog for me and other times a club sandwich. Colored toothpicks were in each section of the club sandwich to hold it together. The toothpicks were wooden. The sandwich was always delicious. I miss Woolworth counters.
Categories: Musings
Tags: being a kid, bored, chilly, colored toothpicks, dark and damp, food counter, hot dogs, hot fudge sundaes, older waitresses, playing. going to school, rainy, red spawn, tuna melt, whining, Woolworth's, working
Comments: 48 Comments
May 18, 2015
The morning is a bit chilly, quite different from yesterday when we sat on the deck until 8 o’clock. It was still warm enough even when the sun was down. The pine pollen has turned my car from red to yellow-green. Here in the house I have two opened windows and the pollen has covered furniture and even the floors, but I don’t care. I like the cool air.
The cape has more scrub pine than any other trees. They are ugly trees with scraggy branches. Their bark looks old, wrinkly. My back and front yards have several pine trees. They don’t weather well. Every year the winter takes down a few more branches, and the last couple of years my landscaper has cut down a couple of tall, dead pine trees. When a pine tree dies, no needles remain to soften the look. It resembles the Halloween silhouette of a black tree with grabbing branches.
I like my pine trees despite their ugliness. They shade the yard. They give me a sense of privacy on the deck. At night, when the dog’s lights are triggered, they are tall, thin shadows across the yard. They are quintessentially Cape Cod. I guess the pollen is a small price to pay.
The cape fields are filled with wild flowers and berry-bearing trees. Closer to the water are the beach plum trees. In my younger, forage from the sea and land days, I used to pick beach plums to make jelly. The trees are not easy to find and every forager protects secret spots. Wild blueberry bushes give fruit to eat out of hand. I find not so many make it to my bucket. Along the sides of the road are flowers growing wild, spreading and multiplying themselves. One of my favorites is the thistle. I want to stop and dig a few for my garden, but I haven’t had the nerve.
In my front yard are three wild rose bushes. They flower once a year with small white flowers. The trees grow haphazardly and I’ve often caught myself on the thorny bushes. It seems the more you cut and trim the more they grow. Wild rose bushes are everywhere, and when they are in bloom, it always seems as if the cape is covered in white, delicate flowers.
This is an empty dance card week. I have laundry to do, Peapod to order and flowers and herbs to plant. Nothing else is planned except, of course, Gracie and I will have a dump run.
Categories: Musings
Tags: cool morning, dead pine trees, grabbing branches, Halloween silhouette, pine pollen, pine trees, thin shadows of trees, ugly trees, wrinkly bark
Comments: 17 Comments
May 17, 2015
Today is a glorious day. The sun is bright, the sky so blue it looks painted and the air warm and smelling of the ocean. It is a day to be outside to feel the sun on my face, to get drowsy in the warmth and maybe fall asleep.
The Sundays of my childhood were quiet days. First we had to go to church. Sometimes we’d go with my dad while other times we’d walk, my brother and I. In the summer the early masses were crowded so people could have the whole day. Those were my favorite masses. Often there were no open seats in the pews so we had to stand in the back and even outside on the steps where I was so far away from the altar at the front of the church I never heard any part of the mass. I’d get tired and sit on the steps. The adults standing in the back used to crane their necks to see what was going inside. I was never that curious.
Most Sundays were family days. In the summer that often meant the beach for the whole day. We never tired of the beach and the ocean no matter how often we went. My favorite ocean time was low tide when there would be pools of warm water. We’d check out the starfish and toss empty crab shells at each other. We’d try to catch the small darting fish we called minnows even though they weren’t. We’d take our pails and walk along the water’s edge looking for shells, but not just random shells, we were picky. We’d pass by the clam shells and look for spirals with different colors inside and out. It was rare to find a complete spiral. Often one side was missing or chipped. We’d nearly fill our pails, wash out the sand in the water then put the pail near the blanket so we could bring home all our treasures. Mine usually went on my bureau for a while.
Eating at the beach was mostly when we were hungry. We had our choice of sandwiches, usually cold cuts but sometimes egg salad. There were always chips to go with the sandwiches and my mother always packed a bag of Oreos, the easiest of all desserts.
My dad would make sure our feet were cleaned so we wouldn’t bring sand into his car. He’d open the car door, we’d sit and he’d dunk our feet into a pail of water then we’d scramble our way to our seats without touching the parking lot sand. I think it a bit ironic that we ended up living on the Cape where sand is almost part of the car floor.
I remember falling into an exhaustive sleep after a day in the sun and water. Sometimes, when my head was on the pillow, warm water would drain from my ears. It was a strange sensation.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Beach, beach food, bright sun, crab shells, glorious day, low tide, Mass, ocean, oreos, quiet Sundays, sandy feet, shell collecting, small fish, smelling of the ocean, starfish
Comments: 18 Comments
May 16, 2015
The forecast says maybe rain today. I love it. You can’t be wrong when you say maybe. Right now, though, the clouds are few, and they don’t look like rain clouds. The sun keeps appearing and disappearing. It’s a chilly morning with a cool breeze.
Gracie and I were on the deck. The red spawn has started eating flowers from the clay pots. It had the nerve to grab a flower, scurry up a branch then sit and dine al fresco right in front of me. Now, though, I have the nozzle on the hose set to jet and I’m just waiting for the spawn.
When I was a kid, a rainy Saturday was the worst. If the rain was heavy, it meant staying inside all day, the most important day of the week for any self-respecting kid. On Saturday we had no obligations. We had no homework to finish, no church and no family dinner demanding our attendance. It was our day to do whatever we wanted except when it rained. A summer rain, though, was sometimes gentle, and we went out anyway. We figured the sun would appear and dry us. A winter rain made us chilled to the bones, and we didn’t whine about having to stay inside. On those Saturdays my dad would sometimes drive us to the matinee, more for his sake than ours. He wanted us out of the house. We were glad to oblige.
Even as a kid, I loved the sound of rain. On one vacation, in Maine, on a rainy day, I went to the car with my book, settled down in the back seat and read. The sound of the rain on the car roof was like music. The stronger the rain, the louder the music.
During the rainy season in Ghana, everywhere was music. The roof of my classroom was tin, and the sound of the rain hitting the roof was all we could hear. Teaching was impossible. My students would read, but each in turn seemed to stop, look above and listen. It didn’t matter how familiar we were with the sound; it still drew us.
The rain on thatch had a different sort of music, a crisper sound. My back courtyard was concrete, and the rain hit it with a pounding beat. The open sewers ran when it rained, and it was the sound a stream makes, a rippling sound, a burble.
On many a rainy day, I would sit on my front porch under the small tin overhang and listen. Even now I still remember the music.
Categories: Musings
Tags: chilly rain, cloudy, cool day, flower eating spawn, matinees, maybe rain, rain on thatch, rain on tin, rainy Saturday, sound of rain, Sunday obligations
Comments: 10 Comments
May 15, 2015
Lots of excitement here last night. We all, the two cats, the dog and I, were in the den. They were, as is their habit, asleep, two beside me and one on the table. I was on the couch at the computer and watching TV when whoosh something flew all around the room. It was a bat. I watched it leave this room then began to follow it as it flew around the house including upstairs. I opened both doors and a couple of windows. The doors had to be barricaded so the cats wouldn’t go out either one and Gracie wouldn’t escape through the front door. The bat would disappear then reappear. Gracie and I were sitting in the living room when we both heard scratching noises from under the table. She cocked her head and I turned on the flashlight. The bat was moving from one thing to another in plain sight. I shined the light on it, and it flew by me brushing my head in the take off. My sister offered a solution from my brother-in-law. I should put milk in a cup, and when the parched bat stopped for a drink, I’d grab the cup with the bat inside, presumably still drinking, and throw both outside. Okay, sure, I’ll grab an opened cup with a bat inside. Anyway the bat didn’t appear for a while so I sat down to watch TV. The house by then was pretty chilly, down to 64˚. After an hour and no new sightings, I shut everything and closed the doors. I haven’t seen the bat since.
I remember a really bad movie about cave living vampire bats who flew out at night and attacked people. Several bats would land on the poor victims, mostly on their heads and necks, all at the same time. The people would scream as the bats bit down and sucked their blood. When I saw the bat in the light, I thought how small it is then I remembered the movie and hoped he had no friends.
Today is pots and window boxes planting day. I stopped at Agway this morning for more trailing rosemary and a few more flowers for a couple of pots we found yesterday. I so love the deck when all the flowers on the rail are in bloom and you can smell the rosemary and the basil.
Clouds have taken over the sunny morning. We may have showers tomorrow. I hope so: we need the rain. Last night was down to the 50’s again. My bedroom, with the window open, was quite chilly. Gracie and Fern huddled against me. I woke up early but was slow to leave the warm bed. I stayed under the covers for a while then dragged myself into the morning.
Categories: Musings
Tags: basil, bat, bat brushing on my hair, flying bat, horror movie about bats, opened doors and windows, planting window boxes, rosemary, vampire bats
Comments: 10 Comments
May 14, 2015
When the wind started yesterday afternoon, the warm temperature began to drop. After the sun set, it got cold enough so I had to shut the windows. Around 1am Gracie went out, and I decided to watch her from the deck. It was chilly like a fall night. I was glad for the sweatshirt and the comfy slippers I was wearing. Gracie went way back in the yard where I couldn’t see her, but I could hear the crunch of dead leaves wherever she walked. She went back and forth at the same place hunting, I guessed, for the chew bone she had buried during the day. After a while, I wanted into the warm house and called her. She came quickly, and we both went inside. It was one of those I wish I could get to sleep nights so I watched some TV. Gracie got on the couch, fell asleep and began to snore as Boxers are prone to do. I was jealous of the sleeping, not the snoring.
Today is lovely though still a little on the chilly side, the low 60’s. The sun is brilliant. It is a day of celebration. Skip, my factotum, is here to open the deck for the summer. He’s been here a few hours already and has cleared the vegetable garden and emptied the deck window boxes and the clay pots. He has cleaned off the chairs and the table. My outside shower is now ready for use. The spiders’ webs are gone. Yesterday I bought all the deck flowers and herbs. I tried to restrain myself at Agway knowing I’ll be making another trip next week for my vegetables, the herb garden plants and the front yard perennials. When I was driving home yesterday, the car smelled wonderful. It was the rosemary. Skip will be back tomorrow to finish. I have a couple of new projects for him.
This weekend will be the deck grand opening parade. There will be music and sparklers. The plastic pink flamingo and the Travelocity gnome will leave their winter quarters to take up their summer residences. The pink flamingo will be dressed in her finest Hawaiian outfit. The gnome will wear his traditional blue jacket and red conical hat. I will be resplendent in bright colors.
Categories: Musings
Tags: cold night, crunch of dead leaves, Deck cleaning day, deck flowers, deck herbs, like fall, opening deck parade, plastic pink flamingo, rosemary, shower cleaning day, Travelocity gnome, uplate, windy
Comments: 12 Comments
keepthecoffeecoming.blog 