Archive for the ‘Musings’ category
July 19, 2015
This morning is oppressive. The air is perfectly still. The sun has disappeared and reappeared. The humidity is 84%. Rain is predicted for tomorrow through Tuesday. We’ll just have to survive today.
Movie night was perfect. There was a breeze keeping us cool, and we had plenty of appetizers to stave off hunger. We didn’t even eat the hot dogs, linguica and salads I had bought for dinner, but we did manage to eat the apple pie for dessert.
I can hear only birds. My neighborhood is quiet. The other day I heard the buzzing of saws most of the day. My neighbor’s huge tree from her front yard was taken down. Now the yard looks bare. You know something is missing.
Every morning I checkout my front garden. New blossoms pop open every day. Today there were tall purple like daisies standing by the fence. Some white flowers are also blooming and two huge clumps of flowers are just about ready to open. I do love watching the progress of my flowers.
Last night, around 1:30, I sent Gracie out for her last time before bed. She stood perfectly still at the top of the stairs then took off like a flash. It was her intruder run. I put on my shoes and was going to the yard to grab her, or even save her, when the rustling of leaves just below the deck told me Gracie was already on her way to the stairs. It was then I heard the hoots of an owl, the first ever here. After Gracie arrived on the deck and stood beside me, we stayed a while.
Categories: Musings
Tags: appies, apple pie, front garden, Gracie, humidity, intruder, linguica, movie night, new flowers, owl hooting, purple like daisies, rain tomorrow, still air
Comments: 6 Comments
July 18, 2015
The weather is unsatisfactory. It is cloudy and chilly with a strong breeze verging on a wind. Rain is a maybe later this afternoon. Tonight is movie night so I’m hoping for the sun to rise dramatically with a ta-da soundtrack and chase away the clouds. The breeze can stay.
I am not a huge fan of westerns. I suspect it was because I spend enormous chunks of time when I was young watching them on TV. Every Saturday I got to watch The Lone Ranger, Sky King, an odd take on a western with a plane instead of a horse, Roy Rogers with his wife Dale Evans, Annie Oakley, Fury, The Cisco Kid and Pancho, Will Bill Hickok, Rin Tin Tin of at ease, Rinny, fame, and Tales of Texas Rangers. I figure there are more, but this blog entry would go on forever.
Night too was filled with westerns. Gunsmoke was on for close to a hundred years and there were others including Sugarfoot, Cheyenne, Judge Roy Bean, the law west of the Pecos, The Texans, Have Gun Will Travel (for the longest time I thought it was half gun and wondered how he managed), Texas John Slaughter who wore that great hat, The Range Rider, Wagon Train, suave Yancy Derringer and Pahoo-Ka-Ta-Wah, Maverick, a personal favorite, and Wild Wild West, my all time favorite.
TV was where I first saw science fiction jump off the pages of my books to the screen. Captain Midnight, brought to you by Ovaltine, and his sidekick, Ichabod Mudd (with 2 D’s) fought the good fight against evil men everywhere with help from his Secret Squadron (that would be any of us, the TV audience, who mailed in an Ovaltine proof of purchase). I watched the recycled Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon serials, Commando Cody who had a jet pack and wore an odd helmet when he flew and Tom Corbett Space Cadet. That last one reminded me we used to call kids who were way out there space cadets. It was not a compliment.
TV program outcomes were never in doubt in those days. The hero would always win. In westerns he’d have a fist fight and generally keep his hat on. It didn’t matter how many times the good and bad guys hit each other as there were never bruises and never blood. The worst thing was a dusty shirt and hat.
I believed for the longest time good always triumphed over evil. Even now I’d like to think it’s true.
Categories: Musings
Tags: breezy, Captain Midnight, chilly, cloudy, Gunsmoke, Roy Rogers, Science fiction, Sugarfoot, The Lone Ranger, westerns
Comments: 14 Comments
July 17, 2015
My house was only 66˚ when I woke up. In the winter that’s cold but during this time of year it’s a pleasant, lovely morning. Today will be in the 70’s, but tomorrow the humidity will return with stifling air which will make moving uncomfortable and sweaty. No one is attractive in the humidity. We all wilt. Sunday will be the same but with a probability of rain.
My mother was always cold. She kept her house in the 70’s during the winter. The rest of us wore t-shirts and sandals and light pants. Her house was almost tropical. We complained, and she hated it when we did. Now, as I get older, I understand. Each winter I am colder than I had been the winter before. I keep the house at the same temperature it has been for years, but I need a sweatshirt. Long sleeves used to be enough. I think I am becoming my mother.
The other day my former Ghanaian student Franciska called. She likes to check to make sure I am doing well. She calls me her mother though I am only seven years older than she, but motherhood, to her, is a matter of principal, not age. I was her teacher, and that is enough to bestow motherhood on me.
When I am with Franciska, I notice she talks to anyone she can. She also introduces me to her new friends as her mother. They look a bit bewildered until Franciska explains I was her Peace Corps teacher 45 years ago. I cringe at the 45 but love that Peace Corps gets into the conversation. Anything that promotes the Peace Corps is just fine with me. Franciska often tells me she is still bewildered as to why volunteers actually agreed to go to Bolga. She says even Ghanaians don’t like Bolga. It is flat, almost treeless and hot, really hot, in the dry season. Back in my day there were no creature comforts, but I always figured that was just part of the Peace Corps experience: you take, even embrace, what you’re given.
My list is long today-errand day. I have four stops and not a single one of them is fun or exciting. Where’s the Ferris wheel when you need one?
Categories: Musings
Tags: beautiful day, cold winter, errand day, Ghana, hot, hot in the house, humidity, Peace Corps, pleasant moring, rain showers, stifling, sweatshirt, wilting in the heat
Comments: 6 Comments
July 16, 2015
Glorious is the perfect description for today. The brightly shining sun is framed by a lovely blue sky. The breeze is strong and the humidity has disappeared. It will be in the 70’s. I can hear the deck whispering my name.
Most houses around here have decks. At night I can hear people talking. One of my neighbors at the other end of the street has a distinct laugh, and when those neighbors have company, I can hear that laugh all the way down the street from their deck. When I was a kid, nobody had decks. Some people had brick patios but not in my neighborhood. On my bike rides I’d see them in the backyards of houses. Most had a table, chairs and an umbrella, sold in stores as patio sets. My backyard had a clothes line and a hill. When my father barbecued, we’d eat inside. It didn’t seem at all strange. That’s what everyone did.
Even when we moved to our own house, we didn’t do much outside. My parents bought a few webbed lawn chairs and a chaise lounge for the backyard, but I seldom spent any time out there. When my dad cooked, he’d pull over one of the chairs. We still ate inside.
After they moved off cape, my dad spent more time outside where he’d sit to drink his coffee and read the newspaper. Once when their living room furniture was being redone, my dad brought the chaise lounge to the living room, and it became his spot to watch TV. Their backyard was filled with mosquitos so my sister would sit on the lawn chairs in the front on the grass. Those were the days when the darker the tan the more impressive it was.
My house when I bought it had a farmer’s deck, and I found the perfect size small table with two chairs so I could sit outside, but I really wanted a huge deck. I got my wish. This deck is as long as the back of my house. It has two sets of stairs and at one end is what I call the dining room and at the other end is the living room. I love my deck, and I need to finish here so I can get outside. I’ve got a good book and some limeade. I’m set for the day.
Categories: Musings
Tags: decks, no humidity, patio set, patios, people talking, perfect day
Comments: 16 Comments
July 14, 2015
When I woke up, there was sun. Now the day is darkening and getting breezy, hints of the rain predicted for the afternoon. My room is dark as I haven’t lit any lamps. I like my house in the unexpected darkness of a soon to be rainy day. For reasons I can’t explain the house is comforting in the darkness and in the quiet. I don’t even hear birds singing. The only sounds come from the rustling of the leaves on the trees hanging over the deck.
I haven’t been to a drive-in movie for years. Wellfleet still has one, but I can’t seem to interest anyone in going. I even promised to do the snacks but had no takers. We were frequent drive-in movie goers when I was a kid. My grandfather had a pass to every E.M.Lowe’s theater including the drive-in, and we used that pass often. Just like every other kid at the drive-in I was wearing my pajamas and my sneakers, no slippers in case I needed to walk to the bathroom. At intermission the playground was filled with kids dressed for bed in their pajamas and robes. The first movie was always one for kids, sometimes a Disney or a dog movie like Lassie. After intermission came the movie for adults. Kids presumably had fallen asleep. The adult movies were seldom recent releases but were a year or two old and would probably be PG-13 rated today. Sometimes I’d see a bit of that movie before I fell asleep, but by the time I was 11 or 12, I’d watch all of it, well most of it anyway as we always left before the end. My father was not one to wait in traffic so we’d get a head start and be the only car leaving so early.
We never bought anything from the concession stand as most things were too expensive. I’d sometimes check out the food and sometimes really want a hot dog, but I knew not to ask. We had plenty of snacks in the car. My favorite was the popcorn. My mother was never shy with the butter. We each had a nickel bar of candy bought at the corner store on our way to the movie. The jug was always filled with something to drink, but my father got annoyed if we wanted some too often as he was the pourer who felt abused by constant asking.
My family didn’t have much money when I was growing up, but I never knew that. We did neat things and the drive-in was always one of my favorites.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Clouds, concession stand, darkness, drive-in movie, films for adults, leaving the movie early, nickel bar of candy, PG-13, playground, quiet, rain, sun, wearing pajamas
Comments: 20 Comments
July 13, 2015
If someone knocked on my door and handed me a plane ticket, I’d take it in a heartbeat even with the destination unknown at the offering. In the last year I have traveled to New Hampshire, but that wasn’t a trip. It was a visit. The bug is getting itchier. I am in my saving mode so I can get somewhere. Ghana in a year is a possibility. I’d like to go back one more time though maybe I’ll wait for two years and treat myself to a 70th birthday trip. I’d add on a stop or two probably going rather than coming. I’ve always wanted to go to Timbuktu. It was the most exotic name I’d ever heard when I was a kid. I didn’t even know it was in Africa. I’d add on a safari but that’s drifting into dreamland. I’d have to live an austere life to save enough money which would be difficult as I like creature comforts, good food and a night out now and then. I guess I’ll have to give my destinations a bit more thought and work on keeping that travel bug under control. I do have a back scratcher.
I like today. It is less humid and the sun isn’t overwhelmingly hot. A few clouds cover parts of the sky. They are white grey, nice day clouds not rain clouds. A small breeze appears and disappears.
One of the plagues of Egypt returned. I had left a trash bag beside the car in the morning a day or so ago anticipating going to the dump. When I didn’t go, I put the trash in the trunk so nocturnal creatures wouldn’t open the bag and strew the trash about. The next morning I opened the trunk to add trash and a swarm of flies flew out of the trunk right by me. I’m not talking a few flies. I’m really meaning a swarm. Yesterday when I got in the car, more were buzzing around. I opened all the windows then went back into the house hoping the flies would be gone when I returned. When I got back to the car, there were a few lingerers. I kept the windows opened and some flew out but a couple needed my help. Now for the gross part of the story: I found dead flies on the back seat of the car, lots of dead flies. I hate flies.
Saturday night was entertainment night at my school in Ghana, and I remember one particular Saturday night. It was movie night and a USAID rep had left a cartoon for my students to view. It was about keeping bugs away from food and people. One sketch showed a fly stopping at an outhouse pile and then flying away with a bit of the pile on its legs. The fly’s next stop was food on the table, and it flew away with clean legs. The message was to cover your food to protect you from diseases. My students didn’t get the message. They were too enthralled with the first cartoon they’d ever seen. They thought the movie was a wonder and they clapped. They liked the flying, buzzing fly best of all.
Categories: Musings
Tags: austerity, birthday trip, Botswana, cartoon, cover your food, Dreams, flies, nice day, plagues of Egypt, plane ticket, safari, Timbuktu, travel bug, traveling, USAID
Comments: 4 Comments
July 12, 2015
The air conditioner is keeping the humidity at bay, but I feel a bit like a hermit. The closed windows and doors isolate me. No outside sounds, no people can be heard. Rod Serling could be standing in front of a camera on the front steps to introduce this episode of The Twilight Zone. I can hear him now,”Inside this house Kathleen Ryan sits in isolation, comfortable and cool and totally unaware that the world outside her walls has changed, but soon enough she’ll know she has entered The Twilight Zone.”
The morning is sunny with a slight breeze, but I can already feel the heat when I open the door to let Gracie in and out. According to the weather in the paper, the humidity will start to lessen tomorrow.
I don’t remember the weather being such a complicated topic when I was a kid. It was hot or cold or comfortable. There were no ten-day forecasts or drawings of cold fronts sweeping down from Canada. Forecasting was iffy at best, and the weatherman, always a man back then, was the target when his forecast went awry, and it went awry often. The best way to check the weather was to walk outside.
We seldom got sick when I was growing up. I think it had to do with the world being far less sanitized than it is now. We did get measles, mumps and chicken pox, but those were expected and there was nothing you could do about them. The worst was the itch from chicken pox. My mother went crazy making sure we didn’t scratch, “Do you want scars all over your face?” Then there was the possibility of blindness from measles. My mother kept the shades down and muted the light from the lamp by covering the shade. I couldn’t read or watch TV so lying in bed doing nothing made having measles seem interminable. The only thing I remember about the mumps is how huge my face and neck felt. I don’t know who brought home the mumps first but all four if us got sick at just about the same time. All I can think of is my poor mother!
Categories: Musings
Tags: air-conditioning, children's diseases, forecast, hermit, hot, humidity, Measles, Twilight Zone, weatherman
Comments: 6 Comments
July 11, 2015
The day is another beauty with sun, a blue sky and no humidity. The house is cool. The weather in the paper said we’d have low 80’s today and mid 60’s tonight, perfect for sleeping. This is summer at its best.
I have lots of household chores today and I have a list. I always have a list. Even when I had a good memory, I had a list. It is in no particular order and nothing is too strenuous. Doing the laundry is the most energy-consuming task.
The Great Whites are back in Chatham. One which was tagged in the past was the first to return. It seems even sharks can’t pass up a free lunch. The seals sunbathe on the rocks unaware of what lurks below the surface where the sharks wait patiently. People are a bit more leery this year given all the attacks off the coast in North Carolina. That they are not our Great Whites is a bit of comfort.
When I was a kid, my life was filled with demands. Brush your teeth. Wash your hands before dinner. Wipe your feet on the outside mat. Hang your coat in the closet, not on the chair. Put your schoolbag away. Go upstairs and change into play clothes. Finish your homework. Don’t sit so close to the TV or you’ll go blind. Leave your sisters alone. Don’t slam the door. Go outside and play until I call you for dinner. Don’t stand looking with the refrigerator door open. No cookies before dinner. Eat all your vegetables. Get ready for bed.
I suppose my mother chatted with us in-between, but I don’t remember. Every day she pretty much made the same demands because we generally ignored them, and none of her demands stuck with us in anticipation of the next day when they began all over again with something about teeth.
I was a master at not hearing my mother. When she spouted her daily demands, the words all ran together, and I understood nothing. It was as if she was speaking in a foreign tongue. I’d nod my head pretending I was listening. When I was reading, I didn’t hear her at all as I was totally immersed in the book. She never really believed me and thought I was ignoring her on purpose. She’d ask if I had heard her, and I’d truthfully answer no. That was the wrong answer. The truth sometimes is.
When I got a bit older, sarcasm just flew out of my mouth unfettered, uncensored. My mother would go wild. I didn’t blame her as I had become a bit of a wise ass.
Categories: Musings
Tags: beautiful day, Brush your teeth. Wash your hands before dinner. Wipe your feet on the outside mat. Hang your coat in the closet, cool house, demands, Great Whites, Laundry, list of chores, listening, no humidity, not on the chair. Put your schoolbag away. Go upstairs and change into play clothes. Finish your homework. Don’t sit so close to the TV or you’ll go blind. Leave your sisters alone. Don’t slam t, wise ass
Comments: 14 Comments
July 10, 2015
Such a long day it has been. I guess it feels that way due to my industriousness. Early on I did a couple of errands, dropped a dog can on my toe gouging the toe then went to the hardware store and my pizza place, Spinners at Ring Brothers where I picked up an Italian bakery style pizza, the kind made on a sheet pan and cut into squares. The bakery in my home town usually had some in a glass case, and I always bought a piece. Rita, the owner of Spinners, made me one at no charge. She was happy to do it. I finished my errands, drove home, limped into the house, sat down for more coffee, had two pieces of pizza for breakfast and started to watch the 1951 black and white film The Man from Planet X. It’s best line so far, “You’ve taken the taste of tea right out of my mouth,” said by a frightened police officer.
Yesterday my computer screen went black, and the computer ate a CD. I could hear sounds so I knew the computer was on, but I could see nothing. I grabbed my iPad and did some hunting. My favorite suggestion was to hold the eject button and shake the computer. It reminded me of shaking my piggy bank and hoping for a dime. Another suggestion had to do with turning it off then on and holding the eject button the whole time. That worked but the screen was still black. I went hunting again. I tried a few ideas but none worked. Finally one had me holding four specific keys while turning the machine on and waiting for it to turn itself on and off a couple of times. That actually worked.
Last night the pouring rain woke me up. I could hear it hitting the air conditioner in my room. I listened a while then went back to sleep. When I woke up, the rain had stopped but everything was still wet. The day is cloudy and damp, a cuddle and take a nap day. Sun is expected later.
The idea of an afternoon nap would have horrified me when I was a kid. Daylight hours were meant for playing, for exploring and for riding my bike. At night I’d fall exhausted into bed. Sleep was never long in coming. Summer heat never mattered. I was too tired to care.
College was when I realized the therapeutic effects of naps. I’d study until late, get up early enough to make class then nap in the afternoon. I never chose to study in the afternoon. I swear my brain was more attuned to nighttime than daytime studying.
Ghana made naps official. Places like the post office closed from noon to two, and my students were required to have a rest period after classes. I now had the best reason to nap: experiencing Ghanaian customs and culture. Besides, the northern heat zapped my energy, and naps brought it back.
I still take naps. I don’t need an excuse or a reason. I like taking naps.
Categories: Musings
Tags: afternoon naps, black computer screen, cloudy and damp, college naps, eaten CD, Ghanaian customs, Italian bakery pizza, long day already gouged toe, pizza for breakfast, pouring rain, siestas, Spinners, The Man from Planet X
Comments: 16 Comments
July 9, 2015
This morning is the nicest way to start any day. It is dry and cool because last night’s rain drove away the heat and the humidity. I get to turn off my air conditioner and open windows and doors.
Last night was play night, and I saw an Agatha Christie play based on a book I have no memory of reading, The Hollow. When I went hunting to find out more, I discovered the title had been changed for the US edition, not unusual for a Christie novel. Here it was called Murder After Hours. The novel featured Poirot who was not in the play at all. I suspect Dame Christie would be pleased as she believed her having added Poirot to the mix had ruined the novel. The play was well done and fun to watch though I did have a bit of trouble with a few mumbled English accents. The maid, Gladys, was indecipherable.
When I was in high school, I was in plays. I loved acting. It was a perfect extension of my personality. One year, my junior year, we competed in the Globe High School Drama Festival. I remember Sister Corita was our director. She took us out of classes to rehearse, the best perk of them all. We went to the church hall and she sat, watched, criticized and applauded. We’d do a scene then stop to listen to her comments. The only suggestion I still remember was to place the phone receiver on the base opposite its usual placement to make it easier for another character to pick up. I remember little of the competition maybe because we didn’t place, but we did come home with a couple of jars for the biology lab. My friend Jimmy and I took a self-guided tour of the school where the competition was held. We looked into the biology lab which was filled with jars of different specimens floating in formaldehyde. A teacher was working in the room. We told him how impressed we were with his collection, and that we came from an almost brand new school with no collection. He gave us each a bottle filled with I don’t remember what and also a note with permission to take the jars. I do remember the jars were big and heavy.
I won’t ever understand why some events are permanently and vividly preserved in my memory drawers while other memories are sketchy blurs of time. I remember the jars but not the competition. I remember the heat upon landing in Ghana but not the welcoming oompah band playing on the tarmac. I remember waiting in line to go into the auditorium for my college graduation, but I don’t remember the graduation. I remember my father ordering me a daiquiri once before I was twenty-one when we were out to dinner. It was at Mildred’s. That’s it, the only memory of the entire evening.
I believe these pieces of my memories have significance and are in themselves important events. The landing in Ghana is easy, the jars not so easy. I can’t control which memories stay or which memories vanish over time. I just sort of smile and let my mind go back. That’s the fun of it all.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Agatha Christie, beautiful morning, blurs of time, competing, Drama Festival, high school plays, lost over time, memories, memory drawers, Monomoy Theater, play night, Poirot, Sister Corita, specimens floating in formaldehyde, The Hollow
Comments: 8 Comments
