Archive for the ‘Musings’ category

“I recently took up ice sculpting. Last night I made an ice cube. This morning I made 12, I was prolific.”

February 13, 2014

When I woke up, I could hear the rain falling on the roof and dripping on the deck. It’s a steady rain, a good rain, and I love a rainy day. My house is dark except for the light here in the den. It seems to brighten every corner of the room. I have always felt somehow comforted by the rain. It surrounds me and fills my ears with a different melody every time. I remember in elementary school I loved to watch the rain dripping down the windows. Though no one spoke, the classroom was never quiet. I could hear the shuffling of papers, the turning of book pages and the rain. I felt warm and safe. After school, I’d get home, take off my wet clothes, put on my pajamas and read in bed. It was the nicest of afternoons.

Yesterday I filled the bird feeders, and the birds are taking full advantage of the seeds. I even filled an extra feeder for the chickadees who are outnumbered by the gold finches who seem to be at all the other feeders and don’t share well. The finches don’t like the different feeder I filled, but the chickadees do. In the afternoon, from my kitchen window, I watched the red spawn jump from the deck rail to the feeder, grab a seed then fall back to the rail to dine. I went outside in stealth mode hoping to scare it again, but it ran. Later I watched a fat gray spawn walking on the rail and closing in on where the red spawn was standing. I waited as the grey spawn got closer and closer. Sure enough, that red spawn went after the grey one which took off in a heartbeat despite its superiority in size. The red spawn is evil.

Last night around 12:30, I let Gracie out for the last time before bed. She took off like a shot. I knew she had either heard or seen something. I stood on the deck and watched as she ran a few times around a tree in the yard. I could hear her sniffing. I called and was ignored. Then she took off and ran the perimeter of the yard along the fence. I lost track of her so I gingerly went down the steps which are, for the most part, free of ice. I, of course, found the one spot which wasn’t, and my leg went though the space between the stairs. Luckily I wasn’t hurt and was able to get my leg back on the step. Finally I managed to get to the ground and stood on a spot free of ice. I located Gracie at the opposite side of the yard. I yelled for her and offered treats. She came running at full force, ran up the steps and into the house leaving me in the dust. I went upstairs gingerly and went inside. She was waiting patiently by her crate for her treat. I still wonder what it was that attracted her attention. Luckily she never found it and luckily I made it safely back into the house limbs intact.

“What is drama, after all, but life with the dull bits cut out.”

February 11, 2014

I’ve been duped again. Looking out my window I see sunlight framed by a blue sky. I’m thinking warm day, but it’s still cold. I swear I saw a fat spawn sitting on the deck eating sunflower seeds and wearing a really ugly winter sweater.

Today I am uninspired. It would have said uninsured, but I caught spell check in time.

By February winter gets loathsome. Snow is still on the ground: crusty, icy and hard. A rare day in the 40’s is cause for city-wide celebrations and dancing in the streets. If the weatherman predicts snow, we just sigh. We used to curse. Many of us stay cozy and warm at home and try to find something to keep us busy or distracted. Even doing laundry fills a bit of the day as does an afternoon nap. A good book works best. I’ve read two in the last three days.

Today I am going to face the elements and go out to do a couple of errands. I need bread. I also want to buy the fixings for dinner. I’m thinking meatloaf and mashed potatoes with peas on the side, a dinner ranking high on my list of comfort foods. I’m also going to buy some Twizzlers just because.

The day brightened for me a bit when I watched Foreign Correspondent made in 1940, a favorite Hitchcock of mine. It’s the reason I’m running late. I can’t be a brilliant writer and watch my movie at the same time. During the credits the background music is the singing of The Star Spangled Banner. I find that a wonderful touch.

“Everything is ceremony in the wild garden of childhood.”

February 10, 2014

The sun has appeared, disappeared and reappeared. I totally understand why even the sun is despairing. Who’d want to hang around stuck in what feels like a polar weather pattern? We even have a morning breeze making the day feel colder. The dead leaves still hanging at the ends of branches are being blown about as are the tops of the pine trees. We had snow flurries last night which put a soft layer on top of the snow from last week. It wasn’t even an inch, but it is more than enough. I checked the week’s weather in the paper this morning, and it looks as if Thursday may be our salvation. It might just reach 40˚.

Popcorn was one of our TV treats. They were the old fashion kernels. Once one popped, the whole pan had to be shaken or the popcorn would burn. Nothing smells worse than burnt popcorn. My mother was a true believer in butter. She’d melt the butter, put it on the popcorn in stages then use her fingers to mix the popcorn around so you could taste butter all the way to the bottom. My mother had a set of nested white bowls with tulips on them. She used the biggest bowl for the popcorn. Once when she and I were shopping in an antique store, I saw a set of tulip bowls exactly like the ones my mother had. I bought them all because of that popcorn.

Hung across from the toilet in our bathroom when I was young was a picture of a little boy just getting ready for his bath. He carried a brush, soap and a towel and had a halo over his head. His bathrobe was blue and was fuzzy the way old cards and books sometimes were. Santa’s red suit was often fuzzy in the same way. I used to sit and read the verse on that picture. I read it so many times I can still recite from memory. In a B&B in Ireland that same picture with the fuzzy bathrobe hung in the bathroom. I tried to buy it, but the woman didn’t want to sell it. When I got home, I googled the verse and found a metal reproduction. I really wanted fuzzy, but I bought the metal one anyway for my mother’s stocking. She couldn’t believe I remembered it let alone found one. It hung in her upstairs bathroom. Now I have it hanging in mine. The verse, by Mabel Lucie Attwell, starts “Please remember don’t forget, never leave the bathroom wet…”

My childhood lives in my memory drawers, but some of it is also strewn about the house.

“The love of books is among the choicest gifts of the gods.”

February 9, 2014

The sun was shining while we were having a small snow shower earlier. It was kind of pretty. I stood at the door and watched as if I haven’t had enough snow already this winter. I think, though, it was the gentleness of this snow which drew me to watch. The flakes were wispy and tiny. The storm lasted but a heartbeat. Clouds took over, but the sun is breaking through them, and the day is brightening again. I’d like some sun.

I have decided that getting older has given me the right to even greater creature comfort. When I was younger, I tolerated extremes of heat and cold. Now I crank up the thermostat in winter and turn on the air-conditioner in summer. I stay in warm cozy clothes on the coldest of days and hunker down at home. My meals are a mishmash of whatever is in the house. Rice Krispies aren’t just for breakfast any more and adding a banana raises that cereal to new heights. Yesterday I had a messy grilled cheese sandwich, comfort food at its best. I added avocado and bacon. That sandwich was like manna from heaven. I don’t know what is on the menu for today, but I do have a couple of sweet potatoes and some pastrami so maybe a sort of hash.

I started reading the Stephen King. It is fine for downstairs reading, but because of its size, the book is unwieldy for reading in bed so I’ll have to choose a new upstairs book. When I worked and drove more, I also had a car book which doubled as my lunch time book. On long trips, I listened to an audio book. That always made the time go so much faster. I remember trips to Europe in the summer and trading books with other backpackers. I also remember trying to find the only English language bookstore in some cities; Quito was one of them. When I went to Ghana, I filled my iPad with e-books, and I read several of them while I was there. I do love the feel of a real book, but sometimes a real book is not practical and travel is one of those times. My iPad is right up there at the top of my packing list, and I doubt anything will unseat it as number one.

“Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes.”

February 8, 2014

It’s still winter. I still live in New England. It’s still cold.

Before I go to bed every night, I send the dog outside to do the last of her night’s business then I shut off lights. Before I went upstairs last night, I pretty much did the same thing, but the light in the kitchen was already off and the dog was back inside so we went to bed. When I came downstairs late this morning, I noticed I had left the back door open all night. Right away I thought of the woman and the raccoon. In yesterday’s paper was the story of a woman who was awakened by a raccoon chewing her lips and face. She managed to throw it to the floor and lock it in the bedroom. The raccoon was captured and found to be rabid. The woman started rabies shots right away and also had to get several stitches on her face. It seems the raccoon got into the house through the cat door. Gracie’s door is even bigger than that so I’m thinking lions and tigers and bears, oh my, but actually I believe we’re safe as the 6 foot back fence will keep out most critters. I do pity the woman those shots. When I first got to Ghana, we had shot day, including a rabies shot. As the vaccine went into my arm, my knees buckled and I think I yelped or even screamed. I’m not sure which. The pain blotted my memory.

I’m going to count yesterday as productive. I did a load of laundry, went to have blood drawn and stopped at two stores. In one I bought doo-dads. I bought some watch faces and can’t tell you why. They were just neat looking.

My student Grace called this morning. She is trying to finish her house in Bolga. In Ghana houses are finished a bit at a time when money is available. Her house only needs a roof for the outside to be finished. Grace said when I next come to Bolga I have to stay with her. I said I would if she made jollof rice, Guinea fowl and kelewele. She laughed and said she would. I’m hoping I can go back in 2015 so I need to start saving money: no more doo-dads and no more shopping. The trip is expensive so austerity is my new life-style.

Okay, I just re-read this to check for errors. I have decided my life is boring when laundry is part of the conversation.

“I dont hate it he thought, panting in the cold air, the iron New England dark; I dont. I dont! I dont hate it! I dont hate it!”

February 7, 2014

Today I am grouchy and tired having not slept well the last couple of nights. I want someone to cross me so I can take my mood out on an unsuspecting stranger. I mean, really, I’d hate to do it to a friend or Gracie and the cats. Maybe a telemarketer will call.

It’s sunny and the sky is blue, but it’s a ruse. The morning is cold. Luckily there is no breeze or wind to make it feel even colder. I have to go out for an appointment so I’m going to add a bit of fun shopping to make the trip palatable. I’ll stop at odd shops, the ones with antiques and little doo-dads. I’ll go up-cape for a change. I’ll bring my camera and my dog.

Everyone is sick of winter. My cousin, living in New Hampshire, said it was about 5 below when she got to work this morning. Compared to her, I live in the tropics. For my sister in Colorado it was 4˚ yesterday though today is supposed to be hot at 40˚. I think it’s the snow causing all these winter woes. It chills the air making it even colder, and without it, we might be able to dupe ourselves into thinking warmer thoughts: I’m lying on the lounge chair on the deck with my face toward the sun. My eyes are closed. The sun is hot so I cool off a bit by taking sips of my drink, the one with the little umbrella. Astrud Gilberto and Brazilian salsa is playing in the background. Okay, I can’t keep doing this.

One look out the window to the snow-covered yard, and I am back in the throes of winter: to the furnace blasting to heat the house, to drinking hot coffee to warm my innards and my cold hands and to wearing flannel pants, a hooded sweatshirt and socks and slippers around the house every day. It’s no wonder I’m grouchy! Even Pollyanna would be having a tough time about now.

“Winter giveth the fields, and the trees so old, Their beards of icicles and snow…”

February 6, 2014

The snow came early yesterday morning starting around four. It covered the trees and the roads and was pretty for a while then the rain came, and the snow wasn’t pretty anymore. Under the trees the snow was pock-marked. On the streets and the walkways snow became slush. My plow guy came, shoveled the snow and pushed the slush to the side then spread Safe for Paws De-icer on the tops of the steps to keep them from freezing overnight. During the snowstorm I went out and filled the feeders. They were popular all afternoon.

The snow is crusty from freezing overnight. My paper had skidded down the driveway so I had to walk through the snow to get it. The top of the snow was slippery. As I stepped, cracks fanned out from my footprints. I was cautious. On my way back up the driveway, with papers in hand, I stepped in my footprints.

The sun is now trying to break through the clouds, but it won’t be a warm sun. It will be a bit of light on an otherwise grey day.

This will be the third day in a row I haven’t left the yard or done much with any purpose. I put away my laundry and did some frantic furniture polishing, but mostly I’ve been idle. I read and even took an afternoon nap. Falling asleep warm and cozy under the down comforter seemed an act of defiance against winter.

I generally accept the weather. It isn’t as if I have any control over what happens. Getting grumpy and cursing it only frustrates me. It’s winter. Snow is inevitable. It will be cold. That’s what winter is: snowy and cold. Every now and then we do get an unexpectedly warm day. I always think of it as Mother Nature fiddling with our heads. She’s probably sitting somewhere laughing and planning the next big snowstorm. That woman has no heart.

“It’s not a destination, it’s on the way to someplace.”

February 4, 2014

The sun is beautiful and bright and the sky is a light blue. Snow is melting off the roof, but the snow on the ground is crusty and slippery. Weakened by the sun, snow melts off the pine tree branches. From my window I can see blobs of it falling to the ground. Spawns of Satan are busy jumping from branch to branch then to the deck hoping to find seed there. They’ll be lucky later as I have to fill the feeders, and I always drop seeds. When I went to get the papers, I walked gingerly. I noticed my car windows are covered in crusty snow. They’ll have to be scraped. I won’t need to shovel. My steps are clear and the walk has little snow. The car will easily ride over the small pile of snow in front of it. It is just another winter day.

I have an empty dance card today and the rest of the week. The weatherman says snow again tomorrow, but we are getting very little, only 2-4 inches. I’d call that a dusting worthy of a broom, not a shovel.

I miss Howard Johnson’s. My town had one right on Main Street, and I remember another one on the Expressway just before it split. A HoJo’s on Route 3 was a signpost of sorts for me. When I was in college, I’d take the bus from Park Square to Hyannis and always fell asleep not long after leaving the bus station. I usually woke up just about at the Howard Johnson’s, more than half-way home. The building is still there and is a restaurant, but I haven’t ever stopped. There was something comforting about a Howard Johnson’s. You always knew what to expect no matter where you stopped, and it was a real restaurant with a hostess and waitresses in uniforms with handkerchiefs in their pockets. I usually ordered a cheeseburger and fries which came with cole slaw, and I never could leave without an ice cream cone. I remember they used to have 28 flavors, and I’d pore over the choices. Most times I tended toward mocha chip, but the chocolate was delicious, creamy with a deep flavor. The cone was crispy and sweet, but you had to be careful of the hole which sometimes appeared on the bottom. By the register was a counter with Howard Johnson’s candy. I loved the fudge bars. 

I still stop at real restaurants when I’m on the road. I take the time to relax and enjoy a meal, usually a cheeseburger and fries.

“It’s not a destination, it’s on the way to someplace.”

February 4, 2014

The sun is beautiful and bright and the sky is a light blue. Snow is melting off the roof, but the snow on the ground is crusty and slippery. Weakened by the sun, snow melts off the pine tree branches. From my window I can see blobs of it falling to the ground. Spawns of Satan are busy jumping from branch to branch then to the deck hoping to find seed there. They’ll be lucky later as I have to fill the feeders, and I always drop seeds. When I went to get the papers, I walked gingerly. I noticed my car windows are covered in crusty snow. They’ll have to be scraped. I won’t need to shovel. My steps are clear and the walk has little snow. The car will easily ride over the small pile of snow in front of it. It is just another winter day.

I have an empty dance card today and the rest of the week. The weatherman says snow again tomorrow, but we are getting very little, only 2-4 inches. I’d call that a dusting worthy of a broom, not a shovel.

I miss Howard Johnson’s. My town had one right on Main Street, and I remember another one on the Expressway just before it split. A HoJo’s on Route 3 was a signpost of sorts for me. When I was in college, I’d take the bus from Park Square to Hyannis and always fell asleep not long after leaving the bus station. I usually woke up just about at the Howard Johnson’s, more than half-way home. The building is still there and is a restaurant, but I haven’t ever stopped. There was something comforting about a Howard Johnson’s. You always knew what to expect no matter where you stopped, and it was a real restaurant with a hostess and waitresses in uniforms with handkerchiefs in their pockets. I usually ordered a cheeseburger and fries which came with cole slaw, and I never could leave without an ice cream cone. I remember they used to have 28 flavors, and I’d pore over the choices. Most times I tended toward mocha chip, but the chocolate was delicious, creamy with a deep flavor. The cone was crispy and sweet, but you had to be careful of the hole which sometimes appeared on the bottom. By the register was a counter with Howard Johnson’s candy. I loved the fudge bars. 

I still stop at real restaurants when I’m on the road. I take the time to relax and enjoy a meal, usually a cheeseburger and fries.

“I like physics, but I love cartoons.”

February 3, 2014

When I woke up this morning, it was raining. By the time I was leaving to go to breakfast, about a half hour later, it was snowing. When I got in the car, it was just in time to hear the Cape and Islands NPR forecaster say the rain would be turning to snow later. About then someone should have looked out the window and readjusted that forecast just a bit. The announcer went on to say we are supposed to get around 3 inches of snow. I was a bit skeptical as those first flakes were wet and didn’t stick, but as I was driving home, I could see the snow was starting to cover the ground. From my window here in the den, the backyard looks like a winter wonderland (a word used with tongue in cheek). The pine branches have a layer of snow, and the snow is still falling heavily from the north. I’m not so skeptical any more.

I have no plans for today. Peapod will be by later with my groceries, and I’m clicking my heels in the air as my larder is about as empty as I can remember it ever being. The last three meals were eggs: an omelet with cheese, two over-easy and an egg salad sandwich. Thank God I am now out of eggs, but I am also out of bread and just about everything else. The animals have food as I went to Agway on Saturday. I took care of the dog, the cats and the birds. Today I take care of me.

Cartoons weren’t all that educational when I was a kid. Many were violent but in a funny way we knew wasn’t real. I can’t remember how many times I watched Road Runner use Acme dynamite on Coyote who always survived despite being flattened or blown up. Tom endlessly chased Jerry who was so much smarter unlike the mice I caught last winter in my eaves. They were suckers for peanut butter. I still love Rocky and Bullwinkle and appreciate their satirical and ironic humor far more now then I did as a kid. To me the best antagonists in any cartoons will always be Boris Badenov and Natasha Fatale. How many times did Elmer Fudd shoot himself with his shot-gun instead of shooting Bugs Bunny? Popeye was in his own way trying to be inspirational with all that spinach. He’d pop open the can and suck down the green slop which sailed from the can in an arc to his mouth. His arm muscles would grow and grow and Bluto would become history after one Popeye punch. I never did like spinach, but I did punch a couple of people, one in elementary school and one at Fenway Park.

I think my favorite cartoon was George of the Jungle which was on when I was in college. It definitely wasn’t meant for little kids. In one cartoon, George whacked the bad guy on his head with a thick club and announced, “I came. I saw and I conked him.” In another cartoon, the jungle was being redistricted by a character named Gerry Mander. What kid would get that reference when half the adults I know wouldn’t have? That was the fun of George of the Jungle.