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“Coloring outside the lines is a fine art. “

November 18, 2013

I am not in favor of busy mornings. Today was a busy morning. It was all medical, scheduled stuff, which took over two hours. I am glad to be home. Slippers are back on as are my comfy clothes. I am done doing for the day.

61˚ here right now. The sun was here earlier hiding behind a cloud. It comes and goes. The sky is blue in spots and white cloudy in other spots. The day is a nice one. Chillier weather starts tomorrow.

We used to color a lot when I was in elementary school. This time of year it was turkeys and cornucopias though I had no idea that’s what they were called. The classroom was quiet when we colored. It took concentration to stay inside the lines especially if the crayons had dulled. I always tried to do the best coloring I could knowing my pictures were destined for the refrigerator art gallery. My nephews gave me some of their colored turkeys. I put them on my fridge art gallery every Thanksgiving. The pictures are from their pre-school days when lines were arbitrary.

Soon enough I’ll pull out my old wooden nut bowl with the silver nutcracker and silver picks for pulling the meat from the shells. My mother always put her nut bowl out before thanksgiving. We used to open the nuts while we watched the parade. I remember shells flying and a pile of them on the table. I liked Brazil nuts. Walnuts were too dry.

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“One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain.”

November 17, 2013

The dog’s snoring and my back screaming woke me up this morning. I’m not sure what was worse, but I’m leaning toward the snoring. It was relentless. Each snore had different levels of multiple snores and on a couple of spectacular snores her jowls fluttered. I could take the noise only so long so I dragged myself out of bed. Gracie is now on the couch beside me, and yes, she is snoring but single snores, quiet snores. Those I can handle.

As for my back, I think it had to do with the way I was sleeping with my body contorted and curled around the dog and cat. I don’t start out that way as we all go to bed in our traditional spots, but when I’m asleep, they usurp. Gracie is the worst.

Yesterday my neighborhood was a hub of activity. The house on the corner was getting a new roof. From my deck, I heard the sound of the old shingles being removed. There was an odd scraping sound then a short interval then the scraping again. The time between the sounds was always the same length as if the man was working from a score. I heard the rhythm of the nail gun. It was four notes, a pause then four notes again repeated over and over. I was hearing the symphony of work.

The birds are many today. My chickadees are back. Several were at the big feeder while another was at the suet feeder. I love that I can see those feeders from my kitchen window. I usually wash my favorite cup and glass so I can have them the next day, and the birds are my amusement. Washing dishes is never work. It’s bird watching.

As one of my birthday presents, my friends gave me wooden books ends with a zebra on each end. I carried them around the house looking for a spot knowing that when I add anything, the domino effect comes into play. My house has no empty spots so it becomes a question of where does everything go when you add something. I put the bookends on the microwave and then searched for and found 5 or 6 cookbooks of African food to go between them. One of them is Ghana Chop, the cookbook Peace Corps gave us. To put all of this on the microwave, I had to move a double enamel coffee pot, a cup and saucer with a candle, a very small candelabra, a small glass with a candle and two other large glasses with candles. I walked around the house carrying them trying to figure out spots for their new homes. The two large glasses went back on the microwave, the small one on the butcher block, the cup and saucer also went on the butcher block and the coffee pot went on the floor beside the bookcase; however, I had to move an old glass milk bottle to make room. That last one stymied me. It just didn’t fit anywhere so I ended up hiding it behind something on the bookcase. It was my only failure.

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“Autumn is the hush before winter. “

November 16, 2013

Last night I went to bed early, my early around 10, and slept in this morning until 9. My back feels much better so a day of doing nothing and a good night’s sleep did the trick; of course, a day of doing nothing isn’t novel to me. I am a lover of sloth days and never need a reason to enjoy one.

Yesterday, in the late afternoon, I went outside to the deck. The air had the unmistakable smell of fall. It was earthy but not like in spring when the garden smells of newness. It was the smell of brown leaves on the ground slowly rotting away. Musky might be the better description. I didn’t need to see Gracie. I could hear the sounds of her paws as she ran on the crispy leaves under the trees and I knew exactly where she was. Leaves cover the back of the deck, the part under the trees, and I kicked a few over the side. I could have been eight or nine again and kicking the leaves      piled beside the sidewalk’s gutters. Yesterday’s leaves separated and flew to the ground, two stories below the deck. I could see my neighbor’s house and my friends’ house at the end of the street though the bare trees. The privacy brought by leafy trees is gone now until late in spring. A few birds ignored me and stayed at the feeders, mostly gold finches. I saw a woodpecker at the suet feeder. He has to eat upside down and doesn’t seem to mind. The thistle feeders had three or four gold finches all at one time. They don’t like to share on the big feeder but they don’t seem to mind sharing thistle. I cleaned out the bird bath of its leaves and pine needles then went inside the house. Gracie stayed outside.

I haven’t anything to do. There’s clean laundry to bring up but one more day won’t hurt; wrinkled is wrinkled. I have amassed a mountain size pile of catalogues so I think I’ll go Christmas shopping. The day is cloudy and uninviting so inside is the perfect place to spend the day. I feel good today about me and the day.

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“… food is not simply organic fuel to keep body and soul together, it is a perishable art that must be savoured at the peak of perfection.”

November 15, 2013

No sun today and a fairly strong breeze, but the day is warm for November, in the high 50’s, and will be the same all week. One day may even reach 60˚. I’m thinking the deck with my face to the sun.

My back is screaming loudly from my over-doing. I am not a slow learner but just figure I can do what I always used to do. I can’t. Yesterday I hauled out the heavy litter. It is biodegradable pine litter which turns into sawdust when wet, and the bag was heavy. I carried it downstairs, outside to the car and then lifted it into the trunk. I also went shopping for my dinner ingredients and toted three heavy bags of groceries into the house. I left the stout in the car and thought I was being cautious. I wasn’t. I spent the whole middle of the day and the afternoon getting dinner ready. All of the dishes were ready to cook, and because I just had to put two of them into the oven and reheat the carrots, I got to spend the evening sitting with my friends rather than in the kitchen. I thought getting everything ready was a great idea. I was wrong. I never thought about all that standing while I worked.

Dinner was perfectly planned from appetizers to dessert. I, however, didn’t plan for my back, but luckily for me my friends did the clean-up. I just sat and gave directions. It sort of made me feel like the lady of the manor.

I slept little last night between Gracie’s snoring and my back aching. I didn’t even go upstairs until 2 AM. I most decidedly see a nap in my future.

I have wonderful leftovers for dinner tonight.

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“Well, many’s the long night I’ve dreamed of cheese–toasted, mostly…”

November 14, 2013

The weather is quirky. Snow fell the other day, but today and the next few days will be in the 50’s, tolerable weather. The nights will be cold but that’s November, and that’s why I have a comforter on the bed and animals who snuggle.

The bird feeders need filling and the red spawn needs to be shot. It has defeated my squirrel buster feeder by being small. It jumps from the deck to the feeder, grabs some seed then sits on the deck rail to eat it right in full view of me. I run out to scare it away but it knows when to come back. I’m thinking some acorns, a bit of irony probably lost on the spawn, or small rocks as ammo stored upstairs. I’ll open a window and aim though the sound of the acorn hitting the deck should sent that spawn running. He knows he is targeted. Think hose and last summer.

Much to do today. My friends are coming to dinner, a very late birthday dinner. They both have their birthdays in September and mine was August, and we have yet to give each other our gifts. I have to shop so last night, to save time from today, I set out all the dishes and silverware. We’re having pork tenderloin with an herb crust, smashed potatoes baked in the oven and glazed carrots. I’ll make my Moroccan appetizer, muhammara, and put out cheese, to me the most versatile food of all.

I am a cheese lover except for gorgonzola and blue. They even smell bad to me and blue always looks as if it has been around too long to eat. Cheese is a staple in my fridge as many of my meals are just cheese with bread or crackers. Brie is a huge favorite.

Ghana has no cheese because it has no milk. Ghana has cows but no Ghanaians drink milk. When I went back to Ghana, I was forced to use evaporated milk in my instant coffee just as I did in 1969. Ghana is not a place for coffee lovers or cheese lovers for that matter. If I were in the Peace Corps there now and still lived in Bolga, I’d find the Fulanis who tend the cows, buy milk from them and make my own cheese. It isn’t difficult.

In 1969, I figured everything was just part of the experience as did most of my friends, but when we got together, food always became part of the conversation. We all mused about what we missed the most. In Accra, we’d spend money at Kingsway Department Store to buy bruni food, white people’s food, to bring home. We’d travel to Lome, Togo because you could get ice cream, pastries and yup, even cheese. Lome was a volunteer’s paradise of food. One wonderful memory is when a bunch of us from Ghana were together in the Peace Corps hostel in Lome, something that didn’t happen often. We had all bought stuff to bring home, special stuff you couldn’t find in Ghana. Well, we had a huge party for no reason except we were together, had food and loved parties. We ended up eating just about everything.

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“Smells, I think, may be the last thing on earth to die.”

November 12, 2013

I woke up to the sound of rain. It was earlier than usual, but I had a nine o’clock meeting anyway so I got up, started my coffee, ran out for the papers then ran back inside to a house filled with the wonderful aroma of freshly brewing coffee. I filled my cup and took the first sip. I can’t imagine starting any day without my coffee.

While I was at the library board meeting, the rain turned to snow for a few minutes, but at 37˚ it is still just a bit too warm to sustain the snow. I couldn’t be happier as I think it is far too early in the season for snow. On my way home the rain became sleet, giant globs of sleet. Gracie didn’t even want the window open. I was just so happy to get home and inside my warm house. It still smell of coffee.

We all have favorite smells. Some conjure memories of childhood while others bring to mind the people we love and miss. Places where we’ve been are pulled from memories, drawn by a smell. I love the smell of spring, of the earth and flowers and the first mown grass. I can smell rain before it comes. A summer rain cooling the hot pavement has a strange, easily recognized smell. I know when any neighbors have a fire going as the smell of burning wood permeates the air. Last year when the electricity was off for so long my house was filled with the aroma of burning wood, and it stayed for days. The pine smell of the Christmas tree fills the living room then spreads to all of downstairs. Sugar cookies baking always remind me of my mother. They were a Christmas tradition as was the decorating and eating cookies heavy with icing. The smell of turkey cooking in the oven at Thanksgiving draws the cats and the dog to the kitchen. They sit near the stove hoping for a taste. I never disappoint them.

I think that winter gives us a gift starting at Thanksgiving and lasting until the tree comes down in January. It is the season of smells mixed with memories.

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“When our perils are past, shall our gratitude sleep?”

November 11, 2013

On the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month in 1918, World War I ended. This day became known as “Armistice Day.” In 1921, an unknown World War I American soldier was buried in Arlington National Cemetery. Similarly, unknown soldiers had been buried in England at Westminster Abbey and at France at the Arc de Triomphe. All of these memorials took place on November 11th to commemorate the end of the “war to end all wars.”

In 1926, Congress resolved to officially call November 11th Armistice Day. Then in 1938, the day was named a national holiday. Soon afterwords war broke out in Europe and World War II began.

Soon after the end of World War II, a veteran of that war named Raymond Weeks organized “National Veterans Day” with a parade and festivities to honor all veterans. He chose to hold this on Armistice Day. Thus began annual observances of a day to honor all veterans not just the end of World War I. In 1954, Congress officially passed and President Eisenhower signed a bill proclaiming November 11 as Veteran’s Day. Due to his part in the creation of this national holiday, Raymond Weeks received the Presidential Citizens Medal from President Reagan in November 1982.

In 1968, Congress changed the national commemoration of Veterans Day to the fourth Monday in October. However, the significance of November 11 was such that the changed date never really got established. In 1978, Congress returned the observance of Veterans Day to its traditional date.

On Memorial Day, 1958, two unidentified soldiers were interred at Arlington National Cemetery having died in World War II and the Korean War. In 1984, an unknown soldier who died in the Vietnam War was placed next to the others; however, this last soldier was later exhumed, and he was identified as Air Force 1st Lieutenant Michael Joseph Blassie. His body was removed.

The unknown soldiers are symbolic of all Americans who gave their lives in all wars. To honor them, an Army honor guard keeps day and night vigil.

National ceremonies commemorating Veterans Day occur each year at the the memorial amphitheater built around the Tomb of the Unknowns. At 11 AM on November 11, a color guard representing all military services executes “Present Arms” at the tomb. Then the presidential wreath is laid upon the tomb. Finally, the bugler plays taps.

Each Veterans Day should be a time when Americans stop and remember the brave men and women who have risked their lives for the United States of America. As Dwight Eisenhower said, “…it is well for us to pause, to acknowledge our debt to those who paid so large a share of freedom’s price. As we stand here in grateful remembrance of the veterans’ contributions we renew our conviction of individual responsibility to live in ways that support the eternal truths upon which our Nation is founded, and from which flows all its strength and all its greatness.”

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“Christmas, children, is not a date. It is a state of mind. ”

November 10, 2013

Today is finch day at the feeders. I saw several goldfinches sporting their drab winter colors and a few house finches with their red chests. A couple of doves were at the bird bath drinking. It had been cleaned earlier but has leaves again. Soon I’ll have to hunt down and plug in the heater for the bird bath. The birds love finding water in the winter.

I have nothing much to say today. I haven’t been out to see the world or spend time with people. Mind you, I’m not complaining as I have been reading and watching Christmas movies. The movies are on the schmaltzy Hallmark Channel so I know all will be well before the endings. That lonely business executive will realize she loves her hometown and her old boyfriend who still has a crush. Santa, the real one, will get his memory back in time to make his rounds. The orphans will find families, and the Scrooge-like characters will love Christmas again. Everyone will joyfully celebrate the season.

I went Christmas shopping yesterday in the catalogues and found several gifts I need to order. Some are for stockings, one of my favorite parts of Christmas. My mother was the best stocking stuffer, and we all, my sisters and I, inherited that gene. I only do stockings for my friends Clare and Tony now. I used to do them for my sisters but not anymore, and I really miss the fun of finding neat little things for their stockings. I had traditions. They always got a pair of earrings and my sister Moe got a Life Saver book. I used to find the worst Christmas movie I could for her. It was a contest we had every year. I think I won the last Christmas movie stocking battle when I found a movie made in Mexico about Santa, his wizard and the devil. I always prided myself on the odd and the strange. One year I gave my sister a killer clown puppet. We both loved the horrible Killer Klowns from Outer Space movie, and that puppet was perfectly alien and scary. I used to e-bay for stuff and enjoyed the hunt. I still do for Tony and Clare.

Well, the happy ending is close so back to my movie.

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“Quiet is the new loud”

November 9, 2013

A bright sunny day is always welcomed, even when it’s a bit chilly, as is today’s wonderfully beautiful blue sky. My feeders are going to need filling in a bit as the birds are many this morning. I think they too are drawn out by the sun. The western part of the state got less than an inch of snow yesterday, but it is the first snow of the season.

Gracie got a chew treat from me this morning and went outside to bury it. I watched her dig a small hole then use her nose to push the leaves over her treat to hide it. Her face, when she came in, was all sandy and Gracie wasn’t happy having it washed. Later she’ll dig it up and bring in inside. The treat will be covered in dirt and look disgusting.

I have nothing on my dance card today. I finished a book yesterday and have another to start. I also have recipes cut from magazines and newspapers which need a bit of culling. I always think I’ll make that delicious looking dish or dessert so I save it. When I’m having company or want to make something special, I pull out the recipes and go through them. I always think I need to sort them and then start piles. After a while, I get tired of it and put the piles back with the rest of the recipes and then put them all back into the basket which stores them. Soon the basket will be too small.

One of the differences this time of year brings is the quiet on a Saturday morning. In the summer I can hear lawn mowers, people shouting, kids playing and those annoying leaf blowers. This morning I first heard nothing then I heard the blast of hot air from the furnace. Fall gets us ready for the quiet of winter.

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“Even in the familiar there can be surprise and wonder.”

November 8, 2013

Late, late start to Coffee this morning as I went out to breakfast down Cape then had one more errand to do. The breakfast is a once a month get-together of women with whom I’ve worked who are now retired. Sometimes we are many. Today we were few. It doesn’t really matter the number. It is still the chatting, not the eating, which is the best part.

I went home on the Mid-Cape Highway, Route 6, an anachronism of one lane in each direction. A slow car always has a line stretching behind it because that part of the road is a no passing zone. The two lanes are separated by permanent cones down the middle of the road. Being impatient doesn’t help. I just go with the flow. Today as I drove I noticed the scrub oak trees along the roadside were either covered in faded red leaves or dead, brown ones. Soon enough the trees will be bare.

The day is sunny. I noticed in the backyard the sunlight is slanted through the trees in an odd direction as the Earth makes its autumn move. Darkness comes so very early now. The house was cold when I woke up, and I just wanted to nestle under the comforter for a bit longer. Gracie didn’t mind so she stayed cozy beside me. Fern, on the other side, was just as cozy. All of us are into creature comforts.

When I fill out a form on-line, I often have to include my date of birth. The month and date are quickly found, but I have to scroll way down the list to find the year. That always surprises me even though it shouldn’t.

I buy shoes on-line, and they have always fit, but I do miss that big metal sizer they used in shoe stores. When I was a kid, I had to stand up while the shoe-man measured the size and width of my feet. They were always longer than the last time. That never surprised my mother. Sometimes we outgrew the shoes before they wore out.

I was not a fan of many vegetables when I was young. I loved peas and corn and potatoes. Mostly we ate canned vegetables back then except for corn in the summer. As I got older, my list of vegetables expanded, and I ate them fresh. I always believed they were the healthiest. Come to find out they may not be based on the distance from field to grocery store. Farm stands probably have the best fresh vegetables, but grocery stores don’t. Frozen and even canned vegetables may have more nutrients than fresh. That surprises me.

I like surprises, even in vegetables.

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