Archive for the ‘Musings’ category
April 7, 2015
The sounds of spring fill the air: the songs of birds, the chattering of squirrels, aka the spawns of Satan, and the annoying hum of leaf blowers and saws. Yesterday the landscaper’s crew was at my house for several hours clearing between my house and the rental. The tree which had fallen this winter was sawed into manageable pieces, all the branches on the ground were cleared and the underbrush was cut. The wild space looks as clean as it ever has. My front yard too is cleared of debris as is the driveway area and the dividing space beside my house and Sebastian’s, my neighbor. Today the men were working at a house down the road. I could hear them long before I saw them.
My dad never bought a power mower. He used his old cutting mower. Every spring he’d bring it to the hardware store to have the blades sharpened. His only lawn was in front and between his house and the neighbor’s. He mowed that lawn every week. I used to sit on the front step and watch. He had a technique which never varied the whole of his life. He used a wide pattern to cut the grass and moved from one side of the lawn to the other slightly overlapping the cutting lines as he went. He always raked when he was finished. He always raked everything to the middle then picked it all up and put it in a leaf bag. I still love hearing the scratching sound of the rake.
My visual memory of my dad raking is a fall memory. He’s wearing a maroon jacket, one with a zipper that used to be his father’s. He constantly moves the rake. He starts on one side of the lawn and begins raking the grass which becomes a small pile. He keeps raking and moving that same pile, adding to it as he rakes. Finally the small pile becomes part of the big pile in the middle of the lawn. Every now and then my dad stopped to neaten the big pile before moving to another side of the lawn.
When my dad was done with his raking and the leaves were bagged, he’d put his rake and mower back into the cellar until the next week. His grass, raked and cleared of fall debris, always looked a bit beaten low to the ground and headed in one direction from the raking.
My dad was proud of his summer lawn. When I visited my parents during grass season, my dad would always ask if I had noticed how good his lawn looked. I always did and told him so. He’d just nod. That was always the answer he expected.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bird song, fall cleaning, grass raked, hand mower, hum of leaf blowers, leaf bags, nice lawn, raking, scratching of the rake, sharpened blades, sounds of spring, visual memory
Comments: 2 Comments
April 6, 2015
A howling wind, falling snow or icy sleet battering the house and yard wouldn’t matter. Today would still be spring. Today the Red Sox play their first game of the season. I dream about today on the worst winter days when I need dreams the most. On the coldest of days I let baseball give me hope. I see in my mind’s eye the Green Monster and the fresh grass of Fenway. I think about cheering for the home team, eating hot dogs and popcorn, watching games on warm summer nights and throwing my arms into the air as I scream at a home run or moan at an error. The Sox have stumbled of late. Two out of the last three seasons my Sox were in last place. In the middle of those two seasons they won the World Series. Today they are perfect.
Sometimes Easter was at the start of spring vacation while other years, like this one, Easter was early and Monday was back to school. That was always the worst of Mondays. Our energy had been spent over the three-day weekend. By Sunday night we were exhausted from the excitement of wearing new clothes, finding our baskets filled with chocolate and small gifts and spending all afternoon with the cousins. Getting up, eating breakfast, putting on our uniforms and then walking to school were arduous tasks. It was a day of lethargy when turning the pages of a text-book took far too much energy. The classroom was unusually quiet. No rustling sounds broke the silence. The only signs of Easter were the jelly beans, the big ones where every color tasted the same, wrapped in wax paper in our lunch boxes. We’d finish our sandwiches then put the jelly beans in our coat pockets to eat outside during recess. I remember they all had a bit of lint from my pocket. I didn’t care.
Easter was the best. Dinner was spectacular. We were given the same table by the window we’ve had for three years in a row. Our blinking bunny, from an Easter basket three years ago, joined us for his third time at the table. That he still blinks we find amazing. Outside the window the view was beautiful. The sky and the ocean were different blues. The water, the deepest of blues, had a greenish tint while the sky was light blue along the horizon and darker blue above. Small white caps tapped the shoreline. The beach grass was brown, its winter color. We toasted the day and sat for a bit savoring the moment before ordering dinner. My drink had blackberries. It was delicious. I had lamb, mashed potatoes and onions infused with soy sauce. Little was left on my plate at the end of dinner, but I managed to squeeze in a chocolate dessert, the perfect ending for the best Easter ever until next year’s.
Categories: Musings
Tags: chocolate desserts, Easter dinner, jelly beans, lamb, mashed potatoes, Monday school, ocean and sky, onions, opening season game, Red Sox, spring, waves and wind
Comments: 16 Comments
April 5, 2015
Happy Easter and Happy Passover!
This morning my alarm jolted me awake at 6:15. I went down to my friends’ house to decorate the tree by their deck, an Easter custom. I hung a cardboard tiled banner with Peep in the middle and a chick on each side, several colored eggs and a small glass flower pot with a hyacinth. It was cold, only 34˚, and quiet until I heard the loud gobbles of wild turkeys. Four huge toms appeared on the front lawn across the street. Their tails were fanned. They strutted across the lawn, gobbled again, together as if they practiced, and went around back. I watched until they disappeared. Wild turkeys are common here, but these were the biggest I’ve seen.
After I finished decorating, Gracie and I went to the ATM and then to Dunkin’ Donuts. I didn’t see another car until the main road. It is quiet in neighborhoods on Easter morning. At Dunkin’ Donuts I was third in line.
The day is sunny and bright.
This afternoon we’ll get gussied up and go to our Easter dinner at the Ocean House. I think it is the only day I voluntarily wear a dress and fancy shoes. We always wait for a window table as the restaurant looks right onto the rocks and the ocean; hence its name. Out the windows you can see and hear the gulls circling over the water. If there is wind, there are whitecaps.
It doesn’t matter how many times I see the ocean or the gulls or the rocks because every time is mesmerizing. The waves slap the rocks and water flies into the air. Gulls walk on the wet sand and leave their footprints. They always seem to look proud as they walk.
During dinner we chat, laugh, take pictures, all sorts of pictures, and often look out the window. We always say how beautiful it is and how lovely the view. We also always say how lucky we are.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 34˚, decorating the tree, dinner, Easter dinner, Eggs, fancy clothes, fun dinner, gulls, Happy Easter, ocean, Ocean House, rocks, sunny and bright, whitecaps, wild tom turkeys
Comments: 14 Comments
April 4, 2015
We had more rain this morning then the sun came out for a while then it disappeared behind the clouds and the sky got darker. The sun made an attempt to reappeared but in a poof was gone again but only for a bit. The sun is now brightly shining in all its glory. The sky is blue and the clouds are gone. The sun has won the day in a spectacular fashion. It is even warm outside. My heat hasn’t come on all morning. Today I’m doing Easter things. I have a few eggs I’m going to color and a couple of baskets to fill.
At Christmas time we had Santa Claus to keep us on the straight and narrow. We didn’t dare cross the line for fear of getting coal in our stockings. The days before Christmas always felt interminable. Christmas Eve was really three days long. Falling asleep on Christmas Eve took forever, but then we woke to Christmas morning, the best morning of the year.
Easter didn’t have the giddy anticipation we gave to Christmas. We had nothing to lose being bad because Easter didn’t have the watchful eyes of Santa Claus or the dire consequences of being bad. The Easter Bunny didn’t seem to care so my mother had no threats to hold over us. We fought like usual and got yelled at the same as we always did.
Easter egg hunts were one of the fun parts of Easter. I remember a giant egg hunt in the field below our houses. All the kids in the neighborhood took part. We carried little baskets to hold our eggs. I remember finding a few here and there and one golden egg, but I gave it no mind and kept looking. At the end of the hunt I found out it was the prize egg. Inside was a dollar bill. This was when a penny had value and a nickel or a dime was wealth. A dollar was a king’s ransom.
The night before Easter was for egg coloring. My mother hard-boiled them, put newspapers on the table and filled paper cups with colored water from packets of dye. We used spoons to put the eggs in the colors and we’d roll the eggs all around so they’d get darker. My mother would display them on the table during Easter dinner. The week after Easter we’d always get colored eggs in our lunch boxes.
My mother would lay out our new Easter clothes on Saturday night. I loved getting new shoes for Easter because usually I only got new ones when the old ones gave up the ghost. We took baths, it was after all Saturday night, watched a little TV, went to bed and fell asleep. In the morning the baskets were on the kitchen table or on our bureaus or even in the living room. We’d eat some chocolate as we’d look through our baskets. That was always our Easter morning breakfast.
We’d go to church where every kid was dressed in new Easter clothes. The colors were light like a spring morning. I swear every Easter was warm and lovely. In the afternoon, after dinner, we’d go to my grandparents’ house in the city. My million or so cousins were also there. My grandmother had chocolate rabbits for us all.
On the way home, I always fell asleep.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Christmas, coloring eggs, dark sky, Easter, Easter clothes, Easter egg hunts, new shoes, rain, Santa Claus, sun, warm day
Comments: 10 Comments
April 3, 2015
Last night the wind was ferocious. I went to bed early to read, but the sound of the wind grabbed my attention so many times I stopped to listen. It was easy to imagine myself in a house on a cliff overlooking the ocean while the wind whistled and howled around me. The house would be a huge old Victorian filled with dusty rooms and mystery. The French doors in my bedroom, with the prerequisite long white, billowing curtains, would face the ocean. When the doors blew open, as they usually do in mysterious houses, I’d stand on the small balcony looking out at the water while the curtains blew around me. I’d see the huge white caps pummeling the rocky shore. That was about as far as my imagination took me before I turned off the light and went to sleep. Later I was awakened by the sound of the rain.
The day is a dismal one, cloudy and damp, but it is warm, in the mid 40’s. Much of the snow disappeared with the rain except in my neighbor’s front yard. Underneath their trees a tract of snow remains. The huge plowed piles on the corner are just about gone, but my neighbor’s snow, still white, resists the warmth and the rain. I guess it is winter’s last gasp.
The morning birds are the first sounds of spring. The leaf blowers are the second. My neighbor’s deck is now being cleared of winter debris. It won’t take long. My deck, on the other hand, has leaves and branches fallen and blown from the pine trees which overhang it. Cleaning all that debris will take much longer. My backyard has some huge branches which broke off during the winter. In the no man’s land between my house and the next, a pine tree trunk has split in half. One half, leaning on the branches of other trees, will be sawed into pieces and hauled away. The other half will be left in the ground.
Good Friday has always been a no school day, but starting around the sixth grade, I had to sign up for an hour vigil at the church. I used to sneak in a book and would read the hour away. It always went fast.
Categories: Musings
Tags: broken branches, church', cloudy, dismal day, Good Friday, howling wind, Leaf blower, no school, snow disappearing, split tree trunk, spring clean-up, Victorian mansion, vigil, white caps, Wind, winter's last gasp
Comments: 10 Comments
April 2, 2015
Today started out cloudy, but the sun is peeking through and chasing away the clouds. The sky is getting bluer and bluer. It is my sloth day, the only day this week with no appointment. I have a chore, an odd one. I need to put the new flag holder outside on the tree. That’s it for the day.
Today is Holy Thursday, Maundy Thursday, a Christian holiday celebrating the Last Supper so the service is always at night. Part of the service is the ritual of the washing of feet meant to symbolize how Christ humbled Himself and washed the feet of the disciples. I never went to church on Holy Thursday. I always figured Sunday was more than enough for the week except for one special year, the year my grandfather was having his feet washed by the priest in a re-creation of what happened at the Last Supper. No way was I going to miss that. My grandfather was a short, gruff man filled with self-importance. He wasn’t a warm man. He wasn’t one of my favorites. My mother and I sat together in the church. I assume my father was there but he didn’t sit with us. One of my favorite parts of that service was the waving of the incense. The altar boy filled the gold incense burner and the priest sort of waved the burner to each section of the church. The incense smelled exotic. I still love that smell. The highlight of the evening, of course, was when the men walked barefoot onto the altar and sat on stiff chairs with red leather on the back and on the seat. I have no idea why I remember that. All of the men wore suits and sort of looked a bit silly being barefooted. My mother and I watched quietly until it came to my grandfather’s turn. He gave the priest one foot which was washed then dried and then gave the priest the other foot. My mother and I started laughing quietly. We couldn’t help it. My pompous grandfather looked so solemn. That made us laugh even harder. Our shoulders were shaking and the pew was shaking, but we didn’t utter a sound the whole time. We tried to stop but couldn’t. We didn’t dare look at each other. I can’t imagine what the people around us thought.
When the service was over, we hurried outside and started laughing again. It was hysterically funny to both of us. We never did tell my father. We didn’t think he’d appreciate the humor of it all.
Categories: Musings
Tags: barefooted men, blue sky, chairs on the altar, flag holder, giggling, Holy Thursday, humorous, laughing, Maundy Thursday, roaring laughing, shaking the pew, silly ritual, sloth day, sunny day, washing of the feet
Comments: 10 Comments
March 31, 2015
Today is bright and lovely, a bit chilly but that’s okay. It feels like spring; it doesn’t smell like a spring morning yet, but I think we’re close. Two bright, beautiful yellow crocus (croci) have flowered in my front garden. My eyes, hungry for color after the winter, saw them as soon as I walked outside to get the papers. It seemed as if they sprang from the earth overnight, maybe as a gift from much maligned Mother Nature.
I keep watching the birds flying in and out of the feeders, and I keep checking to see if I will again be plagued by the red spawn. I thought I caught a glimpse of the beastie on a tree limb, but he didn’t go to the feeders. I wonder if they have red spawn tasers.
I have decided winter is over even though it will be 28˚ tonight. You will read no more complaining about this extended season from me. Every day I see or hear a new sign of spring. The mornings are now filled with the songs of birds. No longer does that single bird sing. The sun is so bright coming through the storm door that all three animals vie for a sunny spot. Maddie’s fur was hot this morning when she came for a pat. The plowed snow is still on the corners of the street but the piles are tinier every day. I no longer pay them any mind. When I look out my window here in the den, I see the deep blue sky and I see trees no longer seeming shadowy, no longer silhouettes in the darkness of a cloudy day.
The last few days have been busy ones for me. I think the winter sloth has moved on. All the chores I kept putting off are done. I don’t even have any laundry in the drier. Today I have PT and some errands. I’m excited about going outside in the sun. Today is a sweatshirt day. I think I’ve seen the last of a winter coat day.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bird song, bright day, color, Crocus, end of winter, happy, hot fur, Laundry, snow piles, songs of birds, spring, sunny door, winter slotgh
Comments: 6 Comments
March 30, 2015
Yesterday was a gold star day. I was busier than I have been in a long time. Maybe the weather prompted all the industry, maybe boredom. It’s difficult to decide. I emptied the litter boxes then checked the fridge for expired foods, packed the trash and recycle bags into the trunk then Gracie I went to the dump. My thinking had been to go late figuring the dump would be quiet. Wrong! It was filled with cars waiting their turns to get near the bins. We were lucky and didn’t have to wait long. When I got home, I filled three bird feeders and two suet feeders. This morning the birds were back. I watched them from my kitchen window. The regulars, chickadees, nuthatches, goldfinches, titmice and woodpeckers, flew in and out grabbing seeds every time. The woodpecker stayed a while eating suet. A gray spawn ran up and down the deck rail but didn’t go at the feeders. He was looking for spilled seeds. Yesterday afternoon I fixed all the timers so the outside decorative lights come on and go off at a decent time, not three in the morning. I did two loads of wash and didn’t leave a load in the dryer, so unlike my usual habit of letting a load sit for a week or two. This time I folded them and even put them away.
All that industry still perplexes me. Usually I plan those chores over a few days or even not at all. I don’t like to tire myself. Today I was thinking of cleaning out the cabinet but I was able to stop myself in time. Maybe I have caught the spring cleaning bug. I know I wasn’t immunized against that one. I guess I’ll have to use self-control.
When I was a kid, I didn’t have any chores to do. My mother pretty much did everything. She made my bed every day and did all the cooking and all the dishwashing. Sometimes I’d help clear the table, but that was it and it was voluntary. I never thought about it. That was the way it was in my house. My brother emptied the basket. That was his chore. He complained of inequality but nobody listened. I think it was sort of idyllic.
The day is decidedly ugly: damp, cold and grey. Showers are a possibility. My dance card is filled this week. Today is my only sloth day, and I’m taking full advantage. I figure I deserve it.
Categories: Musings
Tags: busy day, chickadees, dump trip, empty dance card, filling bird feedres, gold star day, industrious, litter boxes, outside lights', showers, spring cleaning, washing clothes
Comments: 8 Comments
March 29, 2015
Yellow and purple crocus are almost blooming in the garden. I now believe in spring.
Snow is still on the deck, but I could get to the bird feeders for the time in months. I am so happy to feed the birds again and will welcome their return. I just hope the red spawn has forgotten about me as it hasn’t been around since the seeds disappeared. Maybe he found better offerings elsewhere. With the snow nearly gone, I have a few outside chores to do. I have a metal holder for string and lint and yarn which hangs from the tree. The birds grab the construction material to help with building their nests. That has to go up yet. The lights on the backyard trees go on and off at weird times because the electricity died for a few hours this winter and I could never get to the timer to reset the clock. That I’ll do today. These are fun chores, spring chores, snowless chores.
My father used to make us popcorn. He always used the big pot with the lid. First some oil and a kernel or two were put into the pot. When the kernels popped, my father knew the oil was hot enough for the rest of the popcorn. He’d put in the rest of the kernels then hold the cover on the pot and then keep moving the pot in a circle on the stove so the bottom kernels wouldn’t burn. We always stayed to watch. It took a while, but then we’re hear the popped corn hitting the cover. More and more popping sounds meant all the corn was popping. When it came down to only a few pops, it was time to take the pot off the stove. Melted butter was always added to the bowl of popcorn then my dad would scoop the buttered popcorn into four bowls, one for each of us, so we wouldn’t fight over the big bowl.
The sound of corn hitting the lid with a pop, pop over and over and the smell of popping corn are permanently etched in my memory drawers. Even now when I smell corn popping, the image of my dad at the stove immediately comes to mind, and I can see him clearly standing at that stove just a bit bent over swirling the pot.
Categories: Musings
Tags: adding butter, bird feeders, corn hitting the cover, Crocus, fun chores, hand popping, nest material, outside lights', popcorn, pot with a lid, spring, spring chores, timers
Comments: 20 Comments
March 28, 2015
Saturday has always been the best day of the week for me. Torrents of rain falling, snow covering the ground (notice I said covering) or winds tossing tree branches back and forth have mattered little to me. They are merely dramatic backdrops. On Saturday’s I don’t have to go anywhere. I don’t even have to get dressed. I love Saturday’s.
Today is rainy. Yesterday was rainy. It will rain all day into the night. The snow is just about gone. That makes me happy and even hopeful.
On Easter Sunday, my sisters loved their pouffy dresses, their white ankle socks with ruffles and their patent leather shoes. I wore dresses as well until one Easter when I wanted a more casual look. I ended up with a suit and a pink blouse with a Peter Pan collar. I don’t remember my shoes, but they weren’t patent leather. Maybe I was channeling my future self who thought she’d be a lawyer. Every Easter, in the afternoon, we’d go to my grandparent’s house in the city. Everyone was there: my aunts and uncles and too many cousins to count. I remember a conversation I overheard just before going into the kitchen. My name was mentioned so I stopped to eavesdrop. My aunt wanted to know why I wasn’t in a dress and why I was totally poufless. My suit didn’t pass muster. My mother simply said it was what she wanted.
My guest has left. She is on her way to Pittsburg. We had a wonderful visit. We toured the cape, stopped at a few shops and had a wonderful shrimp dinner last night. I had to chuckle as she always introduced herself as Francisca and then went on to say Miss Ryan was my Peace Corps teacher in Ghana 43 years ago. We laughed a lot. That’s what she thanked me of the most.
Categories: Musings
Tags: chilly, Easter clothes, good-bye snow, Laughter, patent leather shoes, pouffy dresses, rainy, Saturday, shrimp dinner, touring Cape Cod
Comments: 10 Comments
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