Archive for the ‘Musings’ category

“What a lovely surprise to finally discover how unlonely being alone can be.”

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.

“Go, and redeem some other promising young creature, but leave me to keep Christmas in my own way.”

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.

“It is the life of the crystal, the architect of the flake, the fire of the frost, the soul of the sunbeam. This crisp winter air is full of it.”

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.

“The most persistent sound which reverberates through men’s history is the beating of war drums.”

November 11, 2014

To commemorate the ending of the “Great War” (World War I), an “unknown soldier” was buried in highest place of honor in both England and France ( (in England, Westminster Abbey; in France, the Arc de Triomphe). These ceremonies took place on November 11th, celebrating the ending of World War I hostilities at 11 a.m., November 11, 1918 (the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month). This day became known internationally as “Armistice Day.”

In 1921, the United States of America followed France and England by laying to rest the remains of a World War I American soldier — his name “known but to God” — on a Virginia hillside overlooking the city of Washington DC and the Potomac River. This site became known as the “Tomb of the Unknown Soldier,” and today is called the “Tomb of the Unknowns.” Located in Arlington National Cemetery, the tomb symbolizes dignity and reverence for the American veteran.

In America, November 11th officially became known as Armistice Day through an act of Congress in 1926. It wasn’t until 12 years later, through a similar act that Armistice Day became a national holiday.

The entire World thought that World War I was the “War to end all wars.” Had this been true, the holiday might still be called Armistice Day today. That dream was shattered in 1939 when World War II broke out in Europe. More than 400,000 American service members died during that horrific war.

In 1947, Raymond Weeks, of Birmingham Ala., organized a “Veterans Day” parade on November 11th to honor all of America’s veterans for their loyal and dedicated service. Shortly thereafter, Congressman Edward H. Rees (Kansas) introduced legislation to change the name of Armistice Day to Veterans Day in order to honor all veterans who have served the United States in all wars.

In 1954, President Eisenhower signed a bill proclaiming November 11 as Veterans Day, and called upon Americans everywhere to rededicate themselves to the cause of peace. He issued a Presidential Order directing the head of the Veterans Administration (now called the Department of Veterans Affairs), to form a Veterans Day National Committee to organize and oversee the national observance of Veterans Day.

Congress passed legislation in 1968 to move Veterans Day to the fourth Monday in October. However as it became apparent that November 11th was historically significant to many Americans, in 1978, Congress reversed itself and returned the holiday to its traditional date.

At exactly 11 a.m., each November 11th, a color guard, made up of members from each of the military branches, renders honors to America’s war dead during a heart-moving ceremony at the Tomb of the Unknowns in Arlington National Cemetery.

Just a Common Soldier

(A Soldier Died Today)

By A. Lawrence Vaincourt

He was getting old and paunchy and his hair was falling fast,

And he sat around the Legion, telling stories of the past.

Of a war that he had fought in and the deeds that he had done,

In his exploits with his buddies; they were heroes, every one.

And tho’ sometimes, to his neighbors, his tales became a joke,

All his Legion buddies listened, for they knew whereof he spoke.

But we’ll hear his tales no longer for old Bill has passed away,

And the world’s a little poorer, for a soldier died today.

He will not be mourned by many, just his children and his wife,

For he lived an ordinary and quite uneventful life.

Held a job and raised a family, quietly going his own way,

And the world won’t note his passing, though a soldier died today.

When politicians leave this earth, their bodies lie in state,

While thousands note their passing and proclaim that they were great.

Papers tell their whole life stories, from the time that they were young,

But the passing of a soldier goes unnoticed and unsung.

Is the greatest contribution to the welfare of our land

A guy who breaks his promises and cons his fellow man?

Or the ordinary fellow who, in times of war and strife,

Goes off to serve his Country and offers up his life?

A politician’s stipend and the style in which he lives

Are sometimes disproportionate to the service that he gives.

While the ordinary soldier, who offered up his all,

Is paid off with a medal and perhaps, a pension small.

It’s so easy to forget them for it was so long ago,

That the old Bills of our Country went to battle, but we know

It was not the politicians, with their compromise and ploys,

Who won for us the freedom that our Country now enjoys.

Should you find yourself in danger, with your enemies at hand,

Would you want a politician with his ever-shifting stand?

Or would you prefer a soldier, who has sworn to defend

His home, his kin and Country and would fight until the end?

He was just a common soldier and his ranks are growing thin,

But his presence should remind us we may need his like again.

For when countries are in conflict, then we find the soldier’s part

Is to clean up all the troubles that the politicians start.

If we cannot do him honor while he’s here to hear the praise,

Then at least let’s give him homage at the ending of his days.

Perhaps just a simple headline in a paper that would say,

Our Country is in mourning, for a soldier died today.

 

“November always seemed to me the Norway of the year.”

November 10, 2014

Today is a lovely fall day with a slight breeze, mottled light shining through the backyard branches and birds at all the feeders. It is a quiet day. I don’t even hear cars. I do hear the snoring, especially Gracie’s. She seems herself. The next test for her is Saturday.

I have to buy cat food and litter today so Gracie and I will be out and about later. I also need some cold cuts so I can keep hiding the horse-sized pill she takes each morning.

I have started my Christmas shopping. Everything I’ve bought is on one of the guest room beds so I have to start checking what’s there and making a list of what I need. My sister in Colorado never helps. I ask and she says she’ll have to think about it. That drives me crazy. My other sister usually has one big item in mind and always asks if it is too expensive. It never is. The best part of Christmas presents is getting something you really want. I may drive my sister crazy this year as I have nothing in mind. I’ll just let her surprise me.

The three boys are getting Hess trucks for one of their gifts. They get one every year. The baby will only be 5 months by Christmas, but I figured I’d start his collection. Both babies got hand-knit stockings already, and I have ordered each of them a wooden box containing three handmade ornaments including Baby’s First Christmas. Kids are easy. Adults seldom are. To some I give magazine subscriptions including Afar, Smithsonian, Bon Appetit and Yankee. They are always a big hit as gifts. I’ll also do some hunting in local stores as I love to find different and off-beat gifts, and there are a few stores I can always count on for something special.

Well, my back is horrific today. I did too much yesterday. That’s always the way with me. It happens all the time. I am a slow learner.

“Anyone who thinks fallen leaves are dead has never watched them dancing on a windy day.”

November 9, 2014

Okay, you’ve heard it here first: fringe is back. I saw fringed leather handbags being advertised in the paper. The fringe was across the front and the bags were by famous designers. The cost of the bags was at the least $500.00 with one over $700. I was reminded of my long ago suede jacket with the fringe hanging off the sleeves. It and I were quite stylish. After all, it was the 60’s. Back then I didn’t realize fringe can’t die. Now I have proof. There was the surrey with the fringe on top, Dale Evans wearing it on shirt sleeves and even her gloves, a bunch of us in the 60’s and now designer handbags. Fringe is the cockroach of the fashion world.

It’s a cloudy day, 55˚, not pretty in any way, even a bit dreary. The breeze is ever so slight and barely ruffles the leaves left on the trees. My front lawn and walkway are totally covered with leaves and pine needles. When I went to get the papers, the pine needles stuck to my slippers. I found a few needles by the front door.

I keep saving recipes with apples, squash, pumpkin and all of the fall vegetables as ingredients. The pictures of the finished dishes are mouth-watering. They also inspire me to put on that apron and head to the kitchen.

Dark comes far too early. My palm tree lights up the small farmer’s deck, but the fir tree lights have died. I need to replace them. Window lights shed a beam on the lawn. They are lit all the time. My new neighbor has put window lights in her front windows. Now there are two of us.

“Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

November 8, 2014

The red flag on my mail box has disappeared. It isn’t on the ground anywhere. I find that confusing. Where is it? Are there marauders stealing red flags as trophies and leaving behind holes on the side of my box? My postman, Bill, would never check the mail in the box without a red flag flying, proverbially of course. I had to put my outgoing mail in my neighbor’s box. He’ll probably wonder why his red flag is up.

Today is sunny with blue skies but is a bit chilly. The sunlight always seems muted this time of year as if the sun’s best just isn’t enough. I chased the red spawn a couple of times earlier, and I picked up the hose so he ran, but the water has been drained from the hose so I have no weapon. I’m thinking I might get a potato gun. Any other sort of weapon would run out of ammo. Potatoes are plentiful.

I seldom go see a movie at night. It is more expensive than those in the afternoons but really not by much. I think it is because matinees are ingrained, a part of my psyche, as I went to the matinee almost every Saturday when I was a kid except in summer when there wasn’t one. Just about everyone I knew went to the Saturday matinee. My mother was probably thrilled. My brother and I were gone while she just had my two sisters at home. They were a bit young though I did take them once. It didn’t work out. I had to take them home before the movie was over. I was not happy.

The food in the movie theater is exorbitant. I admit I sometimes sneak in a candy bar and even some bagged popcorn, usually cheddar. I always buy a drink which makes me look less of a smuggler. I sometimes wonder how popcorn and the movies became forever joined. I’ve been in theaters where they sold hot dogs, ice cream cones and smothered tacos. That seems wrong somehow.

When I was young, I used to buy candy which lasted a long time, but they don’t sell Sugar Daddies any more, and I’d be afraid for my fillings even if they did. Nonpareils, Raisinettes and popcorn are now my three favorite movie foods.

“Rainy days should be spent at home with a cup of tea and a good book.”

November 7, 2014

The morning has been a busy one already. First I was awakened by the ungodly sound of the alarm ringing at 7:30. I know it seems silly that I need an alarm for 7:30, but for me that is still early morning. I groaned out of bed, shuffled down the stairs and went to get the papers. I had my coffee, a necessity that early, and read the papers. I then got dressed and left as I started physical therapy this morning. My back or rather my hip has been horrific with painful spasms at night. I am rudely awakened by a woman howling in pain. Shockingly I am the screamer. The doctor decided physical therapy might help so I started my two days a week today.

Gracie is herself. The last test determined she has an irregular heartbeat, but they still don’t know what happened. The vet speculated that her blood pressure went down when she had multiple irregular heartbeats in a row and that caused her to fall. There were two other possibilities but the vet thinks this is the reason. Gracie is starting today on fish oil and some pills from the pharmacy to maintain her heartbeat. In a week and a half she’ll have a second test on her heart. I watch her all the time. One of my Boxers had cardiomyopathy so I worry about Miss Gracie. The vet doesn’t seem to think so, but they didn’t think Maggie did either. In a bit Gracie and I are heading to the dump. The vet called too late to go yesterday.

It is dark, ugly, damp and cold today. It’s a jacket or heavy sweatshirt weather. I didn’t wear one this morning, and I was cold.  I think it is a perfect stay in the house day, wear comfy clothes, read and have a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch. I might even make meatloaf and mashed potatoes tonight. I’m in a comfort food mode.

Sunny days lend themselves to activities, to being outside, to taking in all that vitamin D. Dark days are an excuse for staying home and being comfortable. Black and white horror movies should be on the TV. The house should smell like popcorn. I’m going to post my music, take Gracie to the dump, pick up her pills then come home and enjoy being cozy and comfy. I’ll bring out the afghan and lie on the couch. I suspect Gracie will lie with me. I see a nap in both our futures.

“Until one has loved an animal, a part of one’s soul remains unawakened.”

November 6, 2014

Today is rainy but a dripping rain without any wind. It is the sort of day I’ve always loved. When I was a kid, I’d get home from school, take off my uniform and put on my pajamas as I knew I didn’t need my play clothes. I’d get cozy in bed and read the whole rest of the afternoon because upstairs was always quiet before dinner. The TV held everyone else’s attention. It was a wonderful alone time for me and my book.

Yesterday I had quite the scare, actually I am still worried. I was in the den when I heard something fall then I heard it again so I ran into the living room. Gracie was lying on the floor. Her eyes were wide with fright. I immediately grabbed her around the belly and picked her off the floor holding her so her feet were on the floor but I was keeping her standing. If I needed to, I was ready to carry her to the car, all 60 pounds of her. I was talking to her the whole time. She was shaking, and I told her to stop. She did. I walked her still holding on so she would know her legs could hold her. She started walking by herself. I checked and saw nothing wrong with her face, as in a stroke, or her legs and feet. I called my vets, and they told me to bring her right away. I ran upstairs to get dressed and Gracie followed and jumped on the bed to wait. She came downstairs on her own when I did. We went to the car. The vet saw nothing wrong but was keeping her for a while to do some tests. We speculated, the vet and I. The rug was a mess so she might have been going too fast and slid on the wooden floor to the rug. I’ve seen her feet slide before when she is fast-moving. The vet gave me a few other optimistic reasons. They did three tests, and the vet had the results of two: blood work and x-rays were fine. She’ll call today with the results of the third test.

My friend Tony, Uncle Tony to Gracie, knew I was supposed to go to dinner with some other friends so he volunteered to stay here with Grace to make sure she was okay. I couldn’t have been more thankful. When I got home, both he and Gracie were asleep: Tony in the chair and Gracie sprawled on the couch. He said she was fine all evening.

This morning was like every other morning. Gracie waited while I opened the front door so she could check the neighborhood, she then went to the back door and waited again. I opened it and she went out. When she came back in via the dog door, she wanted her morning treats. She is now having her morning nap on the couch snoring away with her head on a pillow. The vet hasn’t called yet.

Gracie will be nine in two weeks. My other boxers had just turned 8 when they passed away. I keep a close eye on Miss Gracie. I hope the last test is as good as the first two.

Today is a wait for the call day, but if we have time, we’ll go to the dump. Gracie will like that.

“We are a noisy and blessed little family”

November 4, 2014

Today is the perfect fall day, sunny with crispness in the air. It is 57˚but without any wind it seems warmer. I have no front lawn just a bed of mostly pine needles and some yellow leaves. Even the front steps have disappeared. Many of the oak leaves are hanging on but have turned brown. The sun slants a different way so the shadows have changed position. Fall is ending and moving slowly toward winter.

When I look in the mirror, I see a face with wrinkles, laugh lines my aunt used to call them. I see my hair far more grey than brown, but I like it that way. If I’m not wearing my glasses, I see a blur. I am getting older.

I keep thinking about the old aunts for that’s what we called them. They were my mother’s aunts. I’d see them at some family parties and most times had to identify myself as Margaret’s oldest. Nobody called my mother Margaret except for them and my father’s mother. To everyone else she was always Chickie. One old aunt played the piano and everyone would stand around and sing. That’s how I learned the words to so many songs. My family wasn’t shy about singing. I can still see them standing at the piano each with a glass in one hand and a cigarette in the other. My grandmother would sit in the comfiest chair and watch. She wasn’t a singer. My grandfather with drink in hand would be chatting with one person or another. My grandmother always kept an eye on him.

My mother’s family loved to party. Everyone lived close to one another so they all showed up for the festivities. I always felt lucky to be so close to my aunts and uncles, especially the old aunts.