Archive for the ‘Musings’ category
October 19, 2014
Today is cloudy and chilly. Gracie and I are heading to the dump later. Right now she is having her morning nap and snoring up a storm. Fern is napping beside her on the couch rolled in a ball. Tonight is predicted to be as low as 35˚, sounds like turn on the heat and bundle under the comforter weather to me.
One small item caught my eye in the paper this morning. It seems a teacher from Maine has been put on a 21 day paid leave so she can voluntarily quarantine herself. This was done at the request of some of the school’s parents. It seems the teacher went to a conference in Dallas. The closest she got to the hospital with ebola cases was 10 miles.
My friends are coming tomorrow so Coffee is going on hiatus from today until Thursday. They are friends from my Peace Corps days, and I met them during staging, the first time we were all together, in Philadelphia. They were supposed to be posted 100 miles from me, making them my neighbors, but Peg was pregnant and Peace Corps wanted them close to Accra and the office. I always stopped to visit them on my way home from Accra. They were on the second floor of a house with no water. It was a run to the outhouses in the backyard. I was impressed when Bill used to carry his own water in buckets. During our second year, they transferred to my school and we each lived on one side of a duplex. We had motorcycles and made lots of trips together around Bolga. When we did, I carried Peg on mine and Bill carried Kevin, their son, on his. We had supper together every night and most nights played word or card games and had an ongoing paddle ball championship until the elastic on the red ball broke. We could each paddle well into the hundreds when that happened. We were ready if it ever became an Olympic sport.
We share a love for Ghana and for each other. The memories of our time together are sweet.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Bolga, cold and cloudy, Dallas, down comforter, Ghana, motorcycles, over-zealous, paddle ball, Peace Corps Ghana, voluteer friends
Comments: 27 Comments
October 18, 2014
Last week was summer. Today is fall but it is a beautiful fall day with lots of sun, a deep blue sky and a breeze which is strong enough to bend limbs and blow leaves. I can hear the mower in my front yard. The grass was high and several pine needles had already fallen. Before long they will cover the lawn, and I’ll hear the blower making piles. I miss the sounds of rakes. Every Saturday this time of year I could hear rakes from just about every house on the block. That scratching sound is one of my strongest memories from this time of year.
Remembering the rakes got me thinking about sounds which have disappeared. I remember the rotary phone and how it clicked before the dial circled back around so you could finger in another number. My father would always tell us we’d break the TV dial if we moved the channel selector really fast. It clunked as it moved from station to station. Snow was often the annoying background sound on our TV. It was like a hissing, and it did kind of look like snow when the picture disappeared and those black and white dots replaced it. When TV programming when off the air for the night, snow or the test pattern was what you’d find.
My mother had a hifi. I used it to listen to my 45’s. I’d load the records on the top over the chunky middle piece you had to use for 45’s then I’d turn the button. First I’d hear the record falling then the clicking sound of the other records as they moved down to fill the now empty space. The arm moved onto the first grooves of the record which made a sound almost like a click then the music would begin.
I know some old houses probably still have radiators, but mine doesn’t. When I was a kid, there was one on the wall opposite the bottom of my bed. I could hear the water run through it then the hissing of the steam as it was released. Woolworth’s used to have a cash register with clunky keys and bells. Typewriters had great sounds from the clicking of the keys to the sound of the bell when the carriage was moved. I still have my typewriter. It was my high school graduation gift.
Of all these sounds, I miss the raking the most and my Dad the raker.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 45 records, cash registers, channel selector, hifi, mowing the lawn, radiators, raking the leaves, rotary dial, rotary phone sound, snow on TV, sounds of the rakes
Comments: 14 Comments
October 17, 2014
We are still in that warm cycle of weather. I have my front door and a couple of windows opened. It rained all Tuesday night and most of yesterday. Lots of leaves fell in the wind so the lawns and sides of the streets are multi-colored. Today is sunny and a bit breezy. The streets are drying.
Getting a new pair of shoes was a big deal. Usually I’d get two new pairs a year: one for back to school and one for Easter. My school shoes were always sturdy and practical while my Easter shoes were dressy, sometimes patent leather. After Easter, they’d morph into church and special occasion shoes. I never wore my school shoes anywhere but to school because they were expected to last the whole year. In late August my mother would herd us all to the shoe store. Until it was my turn, I’d wander the store looking at the shoes on the racks. If I found a pair I liked, I’d bring one shoe to my mother who would decide whether or not I could try that pair on. Back then, most of the shoes were tie shoes and sturdy didn’t usually mean fashionable, but I was young enough not to care about fashion. My mother stretched her budget and bought expensive shoes for us because they were more likely to last. I remember Buster Brown and his dog Tige and the picture of them on the inside heel of the shoe. I never did question the long hair and the funny cap. That was just Buster Brown.
I loved looking at my feet in the x-ray machine and having the shoe salesman measure them with that silver slide. He’d sit on the odd-looking stool which was close to the floor and close to feet. It had a front part where you put your foot to be measured and where the man would put the shoes on your feet when it came to trying on the new pair.
I walked up and down the length of the store to decide if the shoes felt good on my feet. I’d also stop at the foot mirror to see how they looked. If they passed both tests, my mother would buy them for me. I was thrilled to carry my new shoes home. They made me feel proud somehow.
Categories: Musings
Tags: colored leaves, foot x-ray machine, funny shoe stool, new shoes, rain, school shoes, shoe shopping, shoe store, sliding measure, tie shoes, warm weather
Comments: 12 Comments
October 16, 2014
Last night it rained and today it is supposed to rain again, heavily. The sun is popping in and out of the clouds. The temperatures of the last couple of days have been in the 70’s with mild nights in the 60’s. My windows are opened and the front door still has its screen. Gracie sits there and looks out for the longest time. I wonder what keeps her interest as my street is a quiet one. I stand with her every now and then just to keep her company.
All my life I have had morning rituals. During my childhood the weekday mornings were always the same. Get up, get dressed, eat breakfast, do teeth then walk to school. For breakfast I always drank cocoa. My mother gave us toast and eggs and in the winter we had oatmeal, the sort which always has lumps. When I was in high school, I had to get up earlier and getting the bus was added to the ritual. In college, I grabbed breakfast on the way out, and every morning my friends and I would sit together in the canteen, drink coffee and race each other in finishing the newspaper’s crossword puzzle. Usually we worked in teams of two. When I was in Ghana, I had the same thing every morning: horrible coffee, two fried eggs and toast. The eggs were cooked in peanut oil, and they were the best fried eggs I ever had. If I had a break in classes, I’d walk to my house and have another cup of coffee and sit on the porch to drink it. Breakfast never varied. I had margarine on my toast as butter was imported and not in my budget. I’d sometimes add groundnut paste, the Ghanaian version of thick, thick peanut butter which needed to be mixed with peanut oil to make it spreadable. The Ghanaians used it as a soup base. Those mornings in Ghana were amazing, every single day.
When I started teaching, I got up 5, had two cups of coffee, read as much of the paper as I could, got dressed and left for school at 6:20. On the way to school, I’d stop at Dunkin’ Donuts for a medium coffee. I did that every weekday until I retired.
In retirement I haven’t changed much though now I get up whenever. I feed the cats, fill the water dish, fill the dog’s dry food dish, let the dog out, put the coffee on and get the papers in the driveway. Sometimes I have toast and sometimes I have a bagel but mostly I just have coffee, usually two cups, one with each paper. I take my time reading the papers. I then check my e-mail and finally start writing Coffee.
I think of my mornings as ritual, as almost sacred.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bad coffee, breakfast, Eggs, fried eggs, Ghana, Ghanaian mornings, groundnut paste, margarine, morning paper, morning ritual, oatmeal, rain, rituals, Toast, up at 5, warm day
Comments: 6 Comments
October 14, 2014
On my way back from an early morning meeting, I noticed how many trees have burst into color. I saw yellows and reds and one tree where the leaves were yellow on the edges and red in the middle. Several trees, though, still have green leaves including the ones in my backyard. Full color isn’t expected here on the Cape until close to the end of the month.
When I was a kid, there were no school buses. Everybody walked. The public elementary schools were scattered all over town, but my school was the only Catholic school, and some of my friends walked a mile or more to get there. None of them cared about the walk. It was just part of their day.
We didn’t have a cafeteria so either you went home for lunch or you brought your lunch. Milk was for sale as were candy bars. The milk came in those little containers which were always difficult to open. The candy was in a big lunch box, and you got to pick your bar. It was a nickel. The milk was only 3 cents. It was never really cold.
We had recess every day unless it was raining or single digit cold. Some of us would just stand in groups and talk, and there were always girls jump roping. The boys stayed on one side of the school yard and the girls on the other. It wasn’t a rule, just tradition. The basketball courts were on the boys’ side. They played half court games.
One of the best reasons to go to St. Patrick’s was we got all the holy days of obligation off from school. All Saint’s Day, November 1st, was famous because it was the day after Halloween. We didn’t care about the saints though we did have to go mass. We were just happy we could stay out later trick or treating.
I’d be freezing walking to and from school in the cold of winter and I’d get soaked if it rained. It didn’t matter. None of us ever complained. That’s the way it was back then.
Categories: Musings
Tags: candy bars, changing leaves, early meeting, getting soaked, green leaves, holy days, jump roping, milk containers, recess, red and yellow leaves, school buses, walking to school
Comments: 18 Comments
October 13, 2014
No jumping out of bed into the shower this morning, not with the house at 61˚. I was cozy under the comforter, but I should have realized how cold the house was as Gracie was leaning on me on one side and Fern was leaning on the other. The house is now 68˚ so I have turned off the heat. It is supposed to get warmer starting today.
Columbus Day was really yesterday. I used to get it off from school every year unless it happened to be a Sunday. Back then holidays stayed put.
Kids grow up believing in all sorts of stuff. I believed in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. I knew there were ghosts and witches and men with hooks instead of hands. Tinker Bell was real because she used to fly over the field below my house with her light blinking as she flew. Most times she was with a bunch of friends. I was easily amazed by the world around me. I loved watching the yellow and black caterpillars walk on a tree limb, and I knew they’d be butterflies some day. I watched the progression of tadpoles into frogs at the swamp. I got to go behind the scenes at the zoo because my brother and I befriended a zoo keeper. I fed some of the animals, even the elephant. I never tired of watching the cows at the dairy farm or the horses running in the field near my house. Life was filled to the brim with adventure and wonder.
When I got older, a teenager, my friends and I had the best fun. We celebrated Mardi Gras, sneaked food upstairs into the library, left school early with permission from the addled nun who taught the class, bowled, played miniature golf, went to the drive-in and had hay rides in the fall. We even went square dancing once. They were all adults but they decided to let us stay. It was so much fun to learn to do-si-do. The world wasn’t as filled with wonder, but I was having too much fun to notice.
College was so many things. It was great friends, a lot of partying and classes here and there. I loved college, but it too lacked that sense of wonder I had as a kid. I’d figured the older we all got, the fewer wonders there were to see. I can’t believe how wrong I was.
I know it was Africa where I found my lost sense of wonder. The people, the colors, the languages, the markets, the night sky were all amazing. Everywhere I went I saw something new, something remarkable. I learned again to look at the world with wide eyes.
I am still filled with that sense of wonder. It’s like a huge gift which never stops giving. I notice everything and stop sometimes along the road to get an eyeful, to fill my soul with all the beauty I can see. Sometimes it is as simple as a marsh with tall reeds or geese flying in formation. It is so wonderful having that kid back!
Categories: Musings
Tags: Africa, caterpillars, cold morning, columbus day, cows and horses, elephant, frogs, Mardi Gras, sense of wonder, square dancing, tadpoles, Tinker Bell, zoo
Comments: 10 Comments
October 12, 2014
The sun is back and 70˚ will be here by Tuesday. This is such a weird time of year, one which can’t quite figure out what season it is. Am I still fall or late summer or early winter? My heat went on this morning. It was set for 65˚ so the house must have been quite chilly, slippers and sweatshirt weather. We did go to the dump yesterday in the rain, Gracie and I. There were three cars counting mine. It was a brilliant move on my part. Today will be filled with cars parked hither and yon and people wondering why they didn’t go yesterday in the rain.
I got an e-mail about my 50th high school reunion next year. I was eleven when I graduated. Okay, I’m lying. Anyway, there was a bland questionnaire which even asked about pets. There was a list of deceased classmates, nine of them, but I know it is incomplete as a name I remember is missing. He was struck by lightning. One of the questions was favorite memories. I remembered my English classroom which had two doors, one in the front and one in the back near where I sat. When Mrs. Baker, called Ma Baker by us, was facing the board I used to sneak out the back door. I’d wander a bit or head for the library. When I figured I was gone long enough, I’d sneak back in. Once I wanted my friend to sneak out with me. She was afraid of being caught, but I cajoled and convinced her. I went first then signaled when she should follow. We didn’t get caught. I always wondered how Ma Baker never noticed two empty seats attached to desks with books.
My friend Marie, who has been my friend since I was ten, claims I have always gotten away with everything. She’s right. The key was to step confidently over the line in plain sight. Sometimes I’d say, “Watch this,” and over the line I’d go. The adult, right there with me, never said a word, never castigated me for line stepping. I think it had to do with me being the least likely to step over the line. I never caused any trouble or sassed anyone, was smart in school and generally did what I was told so whatever I did was never suspect. Even now it drives Maria crazy because she always got caught. I still laugh and make fun of her. That too drives her crazy.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 50th high school reunion, Ma Baker, nice day, sneaking back inside class, sneaking out of class, stepping over the line, the dump, warm day, what season?
Comments: 8 Comments
October 11, 2014
It was a mirror under the nose morning as I slept until after ten. I always wonder if my neighbors will notice my paper still sits in the driveway so late and hope I’m okay or if they’ll just shake their heads and think that woman sleeps really late. I know they are up before seven every morning.
It’s raining. The house is dark, and I haven’t turned on any lights. The dog and cats are sleeping, the cats in here with me and the dog in her crate. She and I are going to the dump today because I figure the rain will keep people away, and tomorrow will be a madhouse as the dump is closed Mondays and Tuesdays.
Rainy Saturdays this time of year were the worst when I was a kid. It was too chilly to be outside playing in the rain, and there wasn’t a whole lot to do in the house. We could watch TV, play board games or read, and we’d try each until we were bored enough to move on to another. We often ended up fighting over the board game. It was always a he said-she said argument or accusations of cheating, and my mother would yell for us to put the game away. Most times I’d lie in bed and read. It was one of the few places where I could be by myself. I figure rainy Saturdays drove my mother crazy because she was stuck with the four of us, and we were stuck with each other. My father was usually off doing his Saturday stuff. When I think back, my mother was always around while my father worked until late every day and on Saturdays he was off doing his errands and then he’d worked outside in the yard. Sunday was the only day he was around the whole time except he went to an early mass where he was an usher. Once in a while we went with him, but it was really early.
My mother was the disciplinarian when my father wasn’t around. He was always the threat, “If you don’t stop what you’re doing, I’m telling your father.” That scared us. My mother was easy-going while my father wasn’t. We usually stopped. She never did tell.
Categories: Musings
Tags: board games, Father, fighting, late morning, Mother, rainy day, reading, Saturday chores, thrests
Comments: 10 Comments
October 10, 2014
Blame the newspapers. I got a late start because I slept in and had to read the papers and drink a couple of cups of coffee before I could consider the day official.
The papers this morning were riveting. Several articles were head-shaking and even funny in a weird way. The first had to do with Adrian Peterson at his court appearance on the child abuse charge. The funny in a weird way came not from the charge but from Peterson’s stupidity. During his urinalysis he told the worker he had smoked marijuana in violation of his bond agreement. This is a direct quote from the district attorney’s office, ” In light of this statement, and the fact it was made during the urinalysis process, and the term ‘weed’ is a common slang term for marijuana, the state argues that the defendant has smoked marijuana while on bond.” Thank God for the clarification.
I noticed that catchy phrases, mini-headlines, are the in thing. Missing the Target, from the Cape Times, is an article about the SS James Longstreet, a target ship, placed off the coast of Eastham in 1945. I remember in the 70’s when it was still afloat, a rusted, pock-marked relic. Now it is submerged at a full or high tide and is a hazard to navigation as the remaining ship’s bones are hidden by the water and could rip a boat’s hull if the boaters didn’t know they were there; hence, the title.
The Cape Times, of course, highlights local news. An alleged bank robber was arrested when the car in which she was a passenger hit two police cars at a roadblock. In the last two weeks, four Cape banks have been robbed, and this woman allegedly committed the fourth robbery. She must have needed the money as she had just been released from the House of Correction. I’m thinking her choice of a driver was a bit sketchy. The only quote in the article came from a gawker,”I think it’s crazy. I know that drug addiction plays a big part in these robberies, but I also think the economy has a lot to do with it.” That’s someone else to thank for clarification.
In case you were wondering, NASA is ready to observe the speeding comet the size of a mountain on its way to within 87,000 miles of Mars. Whew! I was worried.
It’s official: the travel industry is wary of Ebola. Itineraries of ships have been changed, and they will berth in different ports of call. My favorite line in the whole article was the last,” Princess Cruise Lines is also considering rerouting its 30-day “West African Adventure.”
The morning is chilly but sunny.
That’s the news and the weather report for today!
Categories: Musings
Tags: Adrian Peterson, bank robberies, comet, DA's office, Ebola, marijuana, Mars, NASA, SS James Longstreet, target ship, weed, West Africa
Comments: 12 Comments
October 9, 2014
I swear it was sunny when I went outside to get the papers. Now it is cloudy and dark. The trees in the backyard look stark against the grey sky. It is cooler than it has been. I have no complaints, though, as it was 70˚ yesterday. I went about my errands with the window down. I had a list and missed nothing, even got my flu shot.
I have been restless and don’t know the reason. I go from being on-line to reading to cleaning and finally to wandering the house looking for something to do. I have polished and dusted. I have swept the kitchen then wet mopped the floor. My timing, though, is bad. My cleaning couple come today.
I don’t remember watching my mother clean the house. She did it while we were in school. I have no idea as to her routine. I just know the house was clean and the beds were made when I got home. In the late afternoon, my mother would start to work on dinner. I remember her standing by the sink peeling potatoes. It is always 16 Washington Ave in my memories. That is where I spent most of my growing up years. Here and there are memories of earlier and later places, but I can still remember every room at 16 Washington Ave. I remember looking out the picture window at the rain or the snow or the wind blowing leaves down the street. The television was in a cabinet. There were two closets downstairs almost right next to each other, and I always wondered why the builders did it that way. The first, the larger of the two, was where the coats and boots were kept. My dad would come home from work, take off and then hang up his topcoat and put his hat on the shelf. The other closet, in a nook, wasn’t as deep. The ironing board and iron were there, and my mother used to hide Christmas presents in the back. That’s all I remember about that closet.
We always said Washington Ave, never Washington Avenue. I don’t know why.
Categories: Musings
Tags: cleaning, cooler, errands, grey sky, hat, making beds, my mother, peeling potatoes, restless, stark, top coat, two closets
Comments: 6 Comments
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