Archive for the ‘Musings’ category
November 23, 2014
Such a lovely day it is today, a gift after the cold and before the rain. I ventured out on the deck for a bit to enjoy the warmth. A small breeze was blowing the hanging leaves together, and I imagined unseen spirits walking in the yard on the bed of crisp, brown leaves. Gracie stood beside me and surveyed her kingdom. Though she was ever alert, nothing caught her eye and we both came inside together.
I have been watching the Hallmark Christmas movies. I joke and say I’ll have to be more cautious about my sugar intake, but I am such a sucker for happy endings.
The other night my headlights shined on a small cat in the middle of the road. I stopped. She gave my car a quick look, saw she was safe and returned to the task at hand. She was chasing a mouse. I could see both of them in the light. The mouse went only so far before the cat pounced and dragged it back. They did that again and again. At one point I could see the tail of the mouse hanging from the cat’s mouth then the mouse was back on the ground running. I decided to do a u-turn so the cat warily watched the car moving losing track of the mouse but only for a bit. Once she realized I wasn’t going her way, the hunt was back on and the cat chased the mouse into the underbrush. That was the last I saw of both of them.
Categories: Musings
Tags: cat and mouse game, Christmas movies, crunchy leaves, Hallmark Channel, headlights, warm day
Comments: 16 Comments
November 22, 2014
It might as well be spring. Okay, a slight exaggeration here but today will be 47˚ and Monday may hit 60˚. Right now it is sunny and a strong wind is whipping the trunks and leaves of the pine trees in the backyard. I had a really late start this morning as it was a mirror test morning. I didn’t even go upstairs to bed until three and slept fitfully. When I woke up, Fern and Gracie were deep asleep, each on one side of me. They seemed to have slept well.
My delay was further complicated when my computer went wanky, and I could only open Safari with that looping message about a security issue and could go no further. Luckily my iPad was handy, and I found the fix, a simple one.
Staying inside in the winter when I was a kid was usually make your own fun. The TV didn’t have programming until the early evening and then when I was a bit older the late afternoon so sitting and watching was not even a choice. One of our favorite ways to while away the time was playing board games. We’d set the game up on the living room rug and sit around it to play. Sorry was our favorite. Vengeance made the game more exciting, and we yapped back and forth after sending our opponent’s man back to start. That yapping would now be called trash talk. Often the game ended because one of us would get mad and start yelling then the other one would yell back so my mother would yell from the kitchen and tell us to put the game away. That was another argument. Who was going to put the game away?
Boy and girl roles were quite definite when I was a little. Coloring was for girls. I remember afternoons spent sitting at the kitchen table with all my crayons arrayed in front of me so I could choose the exact color to fill in the drawing. The crayons were all sizes, some whole, some mere stubs. The paper had been torn off each crayon as it got smaller so we never remembered the name of the color. We all wanted to color like my mother who shaded the colors like an artist might.
Spending the afternoon reading was always a joy for me. I was a library devotee. I’d take out as many books as I was allowed. I think it was three or four. Quiet spots were hard to come by in my house, but I’d manage. Getting lost in a book was about my favorite thing.
Today I am going nowhere. I think I might not even get dressed. On my table are some catalogues and a book. I’ll do Christmas shopping while watching some Christmas movie then I’ll get comfy and read. I’m thinking that sounds like the best way to spend an afternoon.
Categories: Musings
Tags: board games, coloring, computer wanky, crayons, library, reading, Sorry, warmer weather, Wind, winter afternoons
Comments: 13 Comments
November 21, 2014
Today is downright cold. The sun is shining but the light is weak and muted. The pine tree limbs in the backyard are swaying from the wind as are the dead leaves still hanging off the ends of branches. I had an early appointment and was out of the house before nine. It was 31˚. Now it is a lovely 34˚, basking weather, almost deck weather.
Yesterday I was a whirlwind of activity. Not only did I finish my four errands, but I also swept the kitchen floor, cleaned the top of the stove, dusted and polished a couple of tables and changed my bed. I was exhausted.
When I woke up this morning, Gracie was in a ball right beside my head and between the two pillows. I figured she must have gotten cold during the night, and I was warmth.
I remember well Thanksgivings when I was a kid. For some reason my mother was always up with the birds as she used to say. She’d get busy making the stuffing first. I can still see her using her hands to mix the bread chunks with the other ingredients including Bell’s seasoning. Even now, all these years later, one sniff of Bell’s brings back my mother and all the turkeys of her lifetime. She’d finish the stuffing then put it in the bird. My mother used a giant roasting pan which just fit into the oven. It was oval and blue with white specks. She’d put the turkey and the turkey neck into the pan then the pan went into the oven though sometimes my dad did the oven as the pan was too heavy for my mother. At nine we’d settle in to watch the Macy’s parade. My mother put out tangerines, mixed nuts and M&M’s for our watching pleasure.
It didn’t take long for the wonderful aroma of turkey to spread about the house. My mother, still in the kitchen, would start on the vegetables. Always we had mashed potatoes. I think it is against the law not to have them on Thanksgiving. Creamed onions, canned asparagus for my dad, green bean casserole and later the squash casserole, our all time favorite, would be prepared in no particular order. Before the big day my mother had made the pies: apple, lemon meringue and one more, usually pumpkin or custard. With the left over crust she’d make the turds as my dad called them which always made us laugh. They were rolled dough with cinnamon and sugar in the middle which had been baked in the oven.
I remember the kitchen windows covered with steam from all the cooking, the aromas of the different dishes and how special the whole day seemed.
I put out mixed nuts and buy tangerines. I watch the parade. I make a pie and this year I figure I’ll make some turds. My dad would be happy.
Categories: Musings
Tags: aroma of turkey, Bell's seasoning, cold, cold night, exhaustion, making Thanksgiving dinner, mashed potatos, muted sun, pies, squash casserole, steamed windows, Turkey, whirlwind of activity, windy
Comments: 18 Comments
November 20, 2014
The sun is in and out of the clouds this morning. The day is warmer than it has been. Tonight will be cold, but I’ll be under my down comforter with the dog beside me keeping me even warmer. Today is an errand and an early dump day. Gracie gets to come.
Earlier I turned on the TV to watch the news. It was NECN, New England Cable Network News. An on-site reporter was in a small town where a town meeting had become raucous and subsequently shut down when banning cigarette sales was being discussed. “It’s not about tobacco — it’s about control” and “Smoke ’em if you got them” were some of the cries from the protesters. “This is about freedom; it’s my body and it’s my choice to smoke.” The reporter commented that all the outbursts caused the meeting to be adjourned. “They had a went to postponement.” That is not a typo. That is the reporter speaking off the cuff and outside the common rules of English grammar.
A totally new topic follows.
In Columbia I went to the Salt Cathedral of Zipaquirá which is inside an enormous salt mine. The mine was amazing, huge and almost eerie with blue lights shining off its walls and on the statues and altar. I noticed the salt was blackish, not at all the free-flowing white of Morton’s. I asked my guide, whom I had hired in Bogotá car and all, how the salt gets to be white. Before I knew it, I was being driven down a highway into a huge salt factory. The guide went in then came out and had me follow him. Inside the main office I got a yellow hard hat to wear and a tour of the whole factory. The man leading us spoke English and was a boss in the factory. We went all over, climbing up metal stairs and around huge machines. I learned the journey of salt from the mine to the table. The factory boss gave me a huge chunk of blackish salt as a memento. I still have it stored always in my refrigerator. I have two outstanding memories of that factory. One is walking from one side of the factory to another on a metal walkway looking down at a huge machine. The other is the taste of salt which filled my mouth during the whole tour. The air was permeated with it. I’ll never forget that taste.
In Morocco I hired a car and driver to take me into the Atlas Mountains. The driver asked if he could bring a friend. I didn’t care so the three of us left for a whole day trip. On the way back we stopped at a small factory which made olive oil as the two men wanted to buy the fresh oil. I walked around and saw the whole process of making olive oil. The men working there just nodded as I walked by them. The air was filled with the aroma of the newly pressed olives. It was not an aroma I knew but rather one redolent of many aromas.
I mention these two adventures as they were unplanned, spurn of the moment. They were serendipitous.
Categories: Musings
Tags: banning cigarettes, Columbia, government control, great weather, Morocco, Olive oil, salt factory, taste of salt, Zipaquirá salt cathederal
Comments: 8 Comments
November 18, 2014
Last night it poured and peals of thunder and bolts of lightning added drama. The thunder rumbled at first then kept getting closer until one cracked overhead and rattled the house, but that was the final act, thunder’s last hurrah. After that, the rain fell for a bit then it too disappeared. Today is colder than yesterday and will get colder still. Tonight will be in the low 20’s. It’s time to pull out the flannels.
Gracie is nine today. She is celebrating her birthday with a nap on the couch and some loud snoring. Tonight she’ll have a hamburger, no ketchup but maybe some cheese.
It is so quiet around here. No cars pass down the street, the kids are in school and for once no dogs are barking back and forth. The wind is strong but it is a quiet wind with no whooshing, no train sounds like the heavy winds bring. The trunks of the trees are steady and only their leaves are blowing.
I loved walking home from school and watching the wind blow the leaves on the sidewalk. Sometimes the leaves blew in a small whirling pool, an eddy of yellow. I’d always stop to watch. It was a bit of magic as if a magician had pointed his wand and told the leaves to dance.
The fall is passing so very quickly. Crisp days are turning cold. Not long ago the leaves were ablaze with color. Brown is now their only color. Yesterday I was sitting on the deck on a very cold wooden chair waiting for the red spawn to return. As I sat there, I saw single brown leaves falling slowly to the ground from one tree and another then another. The leaves fluttered the way snowflakes sometimes do. I watched a while until I got too cold. The spawn didn’t return, but I didn’t care. I got to watch the leaves.
Categories: Musings
Tags: browning leaves, cold days, crisp days, Gracie's birthday, rain storm, thunder and lightning, train sounds, whoosing, winds, windy
Comments: 21 Comments
November 17, 2014
The vet called me yesterday around five. She had gotten the results of Gracie’s Saturday test and wanted me to know. She said the results were wonderful: the irregular heartbeat had lessened. The pills seem to be working. I would have clicked my heels in the air, but that would have been a disaster. I’d have fallen and probably hit my head on a piece of furniture. The vet told me to keep giving Gracie the pills, and she’d see Gracie in six months for another test. That’s easy to remember as I see my cardiologist every six months. Now I can stop watching Gracie and checking her while she sleeps. She’ll stop feeling paranoid.
When I woke up, it was pouring, raining cats and dogs as my mother would say. It was late morning, ten forty-five, as I was up until close to three. Fern was coughing, and I was worried so I read and stayed awake to keep an eye on her. She fell asleep finally and so did I. Gracie, always the stalwart, was already asleep. This morning it was the usual routine: put on the coffee then let Gracie out. I opened the door for her as she never uses the dog door for her first morning outside trip. Gracie went four steps outside and turned around to look at me. Her ears were down and she was slouching. I opened the door and she ran back inside. Now this where the dog is smarter than I. Gracie and I stood at the front door watching the rain. It was still torrential. I could see my newspapers wrapped in plastic on the driveway. Did I want the papers badly enough to get soaked or could I just have my coffee and read the news on-line? I ran out and got the papers. I also got soaked.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Boxer and her irregular heartbeat, getting soaked, heart test, papers in the driveway, raining cats and dogs, sleeping late, the vets, torrential rain
Comments: 15 Comments
November 16, 2014
Dreary is the best description for this morning. It is a dark, cloudy, cold day. Dead leaves hang motionless from the branches of the big oak trees in the backyard. Everything is brown.
Yesterday Gracie had another test for her irregular heart beats, but I won’t know the results until Monday. While I was waiting for Gracie, a woman came in with a 10 week old brindle boxer puppy. I told the woman had there been no witnesses, I would have stolen her puppy. It was the cutest dog with soft boxer ears and a mournful look, the sort boxers sometimes get. The woman has another boxer at home, a one year old rescue. I told her about Miss Gracie also being a dark, brindle. We both said we’d never have a different breed as we are such boxer lovers. Gracie came bouncing out of the back area. I patted her and then Gracie went straight to the woman and gave her kisses as only boxers can. The woman told me Gracie was beautiful. That woman has a good eye.
Sunday has always been the quietest day of the week. When I was a kid, I’d go home after mass, change out of my Sunday clothes and mostly hang around the house. I’d read the comics and then settle in with my book. My mother would be making Sunday dinner, and my dad would be watching football. This time of year the house was always closed to keep the cold away. My dad would have climbed the ladder a few weeks back to take off the screens and replace them with the storm windows. It was always a process especially the part of getting the storm windows on the hooks. The closed house held in the best smells on Sundays, especially the aroma of whatever roast was baking in the oven. My favorite will always be roast beef. The smell of one baking still brings me home, to my childhood, to those quiet Sundays.
Categories: Musings
Tags: boxer puppy, brindle boxer, brown world, dreary day, football, mashed potatoes, Sunday dinner, Sunday roast
Comments: 10 Comments
November 15, 2014
The day has a pretty start with a blue sky and sunshine though it is chilly. My bird feeder is getting lots of attention. I saw house and gold finches, titmice, my friends the chickadees, a woodpecker at the suet, nuthatches and the other day a flicker. My kitchen window gives me a perfect view of the two large feeders. This morning I chased away the red spawn. It hadn’t been around for a while. I think maybe now it knows I have emptied and put away the hose. I’m definitely thinking potato gun.
My backyard, Gracie’s realm, is still filled with trees, still wild. When she goes out, I can keep track of her by the sounds her feet make as she trots on the dead leaves. The other day, our last warm day, Gracie was out for long stretches. Now, with the cold, she is out and back inside quickly. Today she has another test at the vets to check those irregular heartbeats. Right now it is morning nap time for Gracie, Fern and Maddie, each in her special spot.
I have lived alone in this house since I bought it thirty-eight years ago. The first time I ever lived alone was in Ghana, and it took me a while to be comfortable. I missed people. I was homesick and wanted to leave so many times those first few months, but I didn’t. I learned to enjoy the solitude of my house, to sit outside at night and listen to the sounds from the dormitories and the compounds behind my house. In the morning, as I sat on my front porch drinking coffee, I heard the familiar sounds of the different languages of the various tribes as the students talked to one another, the sound of water and metal as students filled their buckets for morning baths and the sounds of students sweeping the grounds with their short handle-less brooms.
I love living alone though there are times I wish for company. I admit I talk out loud to myself and to the animals. Gracie understands more than the cats, but they do come when I call their names. I love doing what I want when I want. I sometimes eat odd choices for meals. This morning I ate leftover pizza. It had sausage, a breakfast food.
Categories: Musings
Tags: a woodpecker at the suet, Bird feeder, flickers, homesickness, house and gold finches, living alone, morning and night sounds, morning nap time, my friends the chickadees, nuthatches, titmice
Comments: 7 Comments
November 14, 2014
Last night the rain started and didn’t stop until late this morning, but it was a short dry spell. The rain started again about 20 minutes ago. It is colder than it has been, 41˚, and tonight will be in the 30’s. Gracie and I just got back from the dump. Going in the rain is the best time for the dump as few people venture. Trash can wait. There were just three other cars. Luckily the rain had stopped when we left the house. I dumped my recycles and trash and left. As soon as I got through the gate, the rain started again in earnest, regular wiper speed a necessity. The day is raw cold.
Yesterday I was Hazel, the maid and filled the bird feeders, cleaned the fridge, swept the floor, washed the dog bowls and placemat, did two loads of laundry and even brought both loads upstairs. I dusted the den using the sleeve of my sweatshirt, always a handy tool for dusting, and polished a couple of tables. I was not meant for menial labor.
I am a woman of very few words today. I haven’t seen anybody or done anything interesting. I did watch A Christmas Carol last night, my favorite with Alastair Sim. It was retro Thursday on the Hallmark Channel. I do love this movie and his welfare, his reclamation if you will.
I read an article about Scrooge called Diagnosing Scrooge Syndrome. According to the author Scrooge suffered from Post-Traumatic Embitterment Disorder, not yet official in the DSM-V, only proposed. “PTED will, if included, probably apply to a person experiencing, witnessing or being directly confronted with a highly traumatic event or events leading to chronic (longer than three months minimally, but more realistically, at least one year) feelings of embitterment.” The article is a long one so I won’t quote all of it here, but dear old Ebenezer, according to the author, saves himself through his interactions with the ghosts. That part I agree with, but humbug I say about the rest of the article. Some things needn’t be analyzed.
I’m now visualizing Rudolph on the couch, his red nose bright, his eyes filled with tears as he relates the story of being ridiculed and harassed. I won’t even mention Santa.
Categories: Musings
Tags: A Christmas Carol, Alastair Sim, cleaning, cold and rainy, Hazel, polishing, Post-Traumatic Embitterment Disorder, Scrooge, the maid
Comments: 10 Comments
November 13, 2014
The cold is coming. Yesterday was near 60˚ while today is down to 40˚ and tonight will be in the high 30’s. It’s time to take my mukluks from storage, match pairs of mittens, find the socks with no holes and build layers. I hate it when my nose gets cold.
Despite the chill, winter sometimes redeems itself. I love the crunch of frost under my feet when I cross the lawn to get the papers. I stand by the door and watch snowflakes fall. At night they glisten under the backdoor light. Some snowstorms are pure quiet. Nothing moves and the snow falls silently to the ground. I use the deck rail as a ruler of sorts to see how much snow has fallen. If I go outside, some nights are so cold they take my breath away. My down comforter keeps me cozy and warm. I always think Christmas has to come in winter when the dark night begins in the afternoon and stays until later in the morning. All the colors and lights of Christmas are so bright they keep the darkness at bay. I like colored lights on the fence and a giant white star on the gate.
This time of year it is too cold for just a shirt and too warm for a jacket so I wear a sweatshirt. I didn’t start wearing them until I was in college when I proudly wore my Merrimack College blue sweatshirt. Now I have so many. One of my favorites is a red one with Red Sox emblazoned across the front. I have a couple that are worse for the wear from the National Peace Corps Association. They are now inside sweatshirts. Right now I’m wearing one with Celtics on the front. It is a boring grey. It too is an inside sweatshirt.
Today I am staying around the house. I have some laundry, but mostly it is because my back and hip are painful. The couch gives welcomed relief. Besides, it’s a great spot for a nap. Just ask Gracie. She is sleeping there right now.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Christmas lights, cold noses, crunch of frost, getting colder, mittens, pain'naps, snowstorms, sweatshirts, the quiet of snow
Comments: 24 Comments
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