Archive for the ‘Musings’ category
September 21, 2013
Gracie was on the deck and barking so I went out to check to see which critter was within sight. I didn’t see any, but I did see a water spray near the top of the driveway. A bird was having the most wonderful bath in a puddle from my irrigation system. The drops of water were flying in the air as the bird flapped its wings. That bird was having a great time and so was I while watching it.
The morning is a beauty. It is quintessential autumn on Cape Cod. The sun is bright and the day is warm. Fall flowers are in bloom, and my garden is filled with mums, anemones and my favorite of all, autumn clematis. In autumn, I always think Mother Nature gives us her best and final show before winter’s turn in the year.
I need bird seed: sunflower and thistle. Lately, with so many birds, the big feeder empties quickly. I think word of beak must be the reason. Yesterday, after I had filled the feeders with the last of the seeds, a chickadee flew so close by me I swear its wing touched my cheek. I love to stand by the deck rail and watch the birds eat. They are barely an arm’s length away as the feeders hang off the deck. The chickadees are the most fearless. The seeds are what they want, and my being there doesn’t give them pause. The thistle feeder spins each time a goldfinch or chickadee lands on it. The birds just hold on and go with the spin.
I know I won’t be able to stop myself from roaming the flower aisles when I go to buy the bird seed. Perennials are on sale as are the fall flowers. I just happen to have a few spaces in the small round garden where a tree used to stand and some spots in the back of the big front garden. I also want to harvest the rest of my herbs. The rosemary is ready to hang in the house, and its aroma will spread about the kitchen to remind me summer will be back. I just have to be patient.
Categories: Musings
Tags: beautiful morning, bird feeders, bird taking a bath, colors, fall flowers, garden spot, harvesting herbs, herbs, Mother Nature's gift, perrenials, rosemary, sunflower and thistle seed
Comments: 12 Comments
September 20, 2013
I slept in until late this morning then I just took my time reading the papers and doing the crossword puzzles. Before I knew it, the morning was just about gone, and here I am with a list of chores and errands to do. I haven’t even brushed my teeth or gotten dressed. First on the list is the chocolate pie, tonight’s dessert. The chili was made yesterday, but I still have much to do and here I am lollygagging.
The desk got dusted last night. It was one of those chores I needed to get done, and I was determined to finish it before I went to bed. The top of the desk can now be seen, and its glass protector is reflecting all the wind-up toys on the top shelf. I keep looking at it with a bit of surprise at how good the desk looks though it does make me want to move along to dusting the shelves.
My mother never made us to do chores when I was a kid. Many of my friends had to make their beds, clear the table and wash or wipe the dishes, but I never had to do anything. I never questioned that; however, there were some disadvantages. I never learned to cook as a kid. My mother did it all, and I never watched. The washing machine was a mystery when I got to college. I had no idea the buzzing meant an uneven load. When I got an apartment my junior year, my roommate did the cooking. She could make gravy and cook just about everything. I was in awe. She had learned how to cook when she was growing up and had been responsible for cooking dinner at home a couple of days a week. I served Dinty Moore if I had to make dinner, and what did my roommate do? She made dumplings for the top of the stew.
Strangely enough, cooking became one of my favorite things to do. I have made all sorts of dinners including Chinese, Indian, Moroccan, Middle Eastern, Greek and, of course, African. I love the challenge of making something new, something difficult. I even go so far as to match the table decor with the meal. That, I believe, trumps the dumplings.
I have mastered the washing machine to the point where I no longer have uneven loads, and that buzzer never rings. Now that is an accomplishment!!
Categories: Musings
Tags: chores and errands, Cooking, cooking foreign foods, duating, dumplings, kids' chores, lollygagging, sleeping in, table decor, washing
Comments: 14 Comments
September 19, 2013
Lots to do today but around the house lots to do, my least favorite sort of today. This room resembles a haunted house, one left to dust and cobwebs. It was in disarray because some electrical work had to be done, and the desk had to be moved out-of-the-way. All the books on the shelves and the drawers ended up in the living room. Behind the desk, an area not seen in decades, was a bit of Miss Haversham’s room. That area was cleaned but now everything on the desk is filled with dust. I’m tackling that today. I should wear a full length apron, a scarf on my head, rubber gloves so my hands will stay soft, a dress, and, of course, my pearls. For some reason, that’s how I imagine the dusting look. Wait, I forget the feather duster!
Today is another beautiful autumn day with blue skies, lots of sun and warmth. Last night was cool, perfect for sleeping weather, and the weatherman has kindly predicted a whole rest of the week of the same. Both doors are opened and Fern is lying asleep in the sun. Gracie is on the couch for her morning nap and is snoring. I didn’t get to sleep until around three o’clock this morning so I’m thinking a nap sounds perfect. I imagine Fern and Gracie will join me.
I had the two bathrooms painted, got a new shower curtain made of Ghanaian cloth and had some Ghanaian cloth send to me by one of my former students so my friend can sew bathroom curtains. I bought a new bedroom spread, curtains and throw rugs. I figure with winter coming it’s like I’m getting the house ready for hibernation, changing the scene a bit to stave off boredom. I go through recipes planning menus in my head. They all have a different theme. I’m thinking Hawaii for a dead of winter party with only flowered shirts allowed. Poi will not be on the menu. Chinese is another choice and only chopsticks will be used for eating. The planning is fun. For now, though, I’ll just enjoy the weather and keep getting ready to hibernate. I’m trying to decide what room will be next.
Categories: Musings
Tags: autumn weather, changing decor, cobwebs, disarray, Dusting, feather duster, Miss Haversham, morning naps, naps sleeping in the sun, planning dinners, ready for hibernation, Snoring
Comments: 10 Comments
September 17, 2013
An early morning meeting (9 for me) has slowed down the day. I didn’t get to the papers until I got back home, and my morning doesn’t officially start until the papers are read and my two cups of coffee are consumed. I am now ready to start the day.
I’m wearing a sweatshirt so that should be all you need to know about the weather.
As much as I wanted an empty dance card this week, it seems to be filling. I have a meeting tomorrow and I need to shop on Thursday for the fixings to celebrate my friend’s birthday on Friday. That means making my chili after I shop so it has a whole day to settle. On Friday I have to make my chocolate pudding pie for dessert. Those choices are my friend’s for her special birthday dinner. I think Saturday is still an open day, but the way things are going, it will probably change.
Soon will be the start of the hibernation season for me and the bears. Nothing much seems to happen in winter. A few playhouses stay open, but I usually don’t buy a ticket unless the play is spectacular. In a short time, the house will get that closed in feeling, a stuffiness from the heat and the lack of fresh air. I’ll only go out on the deck to fill the bird feeders and out front to get the papers and the mail. All summer I would stop for a bit to admire the front garden and take in the morning. In winter, it’s a rush to get back inside the warm house.
I chose to live in New England even though I am not a fan of winter. I always think of the other seasons as rewards for living through the cold. My favorite season is just beginning. Autumn on the Cape is beautiful with clear crisp air, the red leaves of the oak trees, colorful mums at the garden stands, the harvesting of cranberries from the bogs and fall flowers still brightening the gardens. It’s still a long way until winter.
Categories: Musings
Tags: autumn, coffee and the papers, cold morning, crisp air, empty dance card, fall flowers, heating the house, hibernation season, morning meeting, mums, red leaves, special birthday dinner, winter
Comments: 8 Comments
September 16, 2013
Lately the days seem the same. The mornings are cold with the sun nowhere to be found. Today a dampness makes it feel even chillier. I’m thinking I might have to put in my back storm door. That’s the door I leave open so Gracie can come and go, but the cold comes all the way down the hall from the screen. I hate the thought that it might be storm door time for even that one door. The windows have been closed for the last three or four days. I’m not liking this at all. I want my sun back. I want warm days.
When I was a kid, I didn’t care much about what the weather was each day. I did want snow in the winter and warm days for swimming in the summer, but as for the other two seasons, I had no preferences. I’d take the days as they came except for Halloween. I didn’t want rain. As for any day rain, I never really minded getting soaked walking home from school. I’d get home, skip the play clothes and get cozy in my pajamas. I lie in bed and read. I can still see the window at the foot of my bed and the rain drops hitting the glass then sliding to the bottom. The fiercer the storm the better.
I can’t stand my feet being cold. They make my whole body feel cold so I put on my fleece-lined slippers, but sometimes they aren’t enough. I have to add socks. In winter, I spend the days at home wearing those slippers, flannel pants and a sweatshirt. It’s become my winter uniform. Right now I’m wearing those slippers and thinking of adding a sweatshirt. The house is only 66˚, colder than I keep it during the winter.
My mother kept her house too hot in the winter. We used to wear t-shirts inside and complain about how hot it was. She was always cold except for her feet. On them she wore slippers with open toes and no backs. I wish I had inherited her warm feet.
Now I tolerate cold and heat far less than I used to when I was younger. On the last two trips to Ghana, my hair was always soaked with sweat. I don’t remember that happening when I lived there so long ago. I used to wear a t-shirt all winter; now the sweatshirt is a must. I’m beginning to understand my mother and her need for a hot house.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 66˚, closed windows, cold mornings, dampness, flannel lined slippers, grey days, open slippers, rain, storn doors, sweatshirts, walking home from school, warm feet, where's the sun?
Comments: 12 Comments
September 15, 2013
Fall weather has settled in for the duration. The days are pleasant, the nights cool, even cold. In the morning, the house is still night cold so we go outside in the sun on the deck to get warm. When I last went outside, Gracie was lying in the sun on the lounge chair.
Last week was busy for me with something every day. I drove over 400 miles. I wasn’t happy. Considering I usually drive between 20 and 40 miles a week you can understand why. I like my sloth days, and I haven’t had one in a while. This coming week four days are already booked so I’m keeping the rest of my week’s dance card empty.
My friends have already landed in Ghana and are probably at their B&B. I wished them a safe and wonderful trip through teeth gritted with envy. Their plans aren’t solidified. Bill said they’d be leaving Accra in three days for parts unknown though I know Bolga will be on the list. He said they hadn’t yet made hotel reservations anywhere. I chuckled to myself. Who makes reservations in Ghana? Up country has plenty of hotels and not a lot of tourists.
Most people I know who visit other countries do so in places with flush toilets, hot water and air conditioning. The very thought of aiming at a hole in the ground is horrifying to them. Good aim is the difference between a tourist and a traveler. I have stayed in absolutely gorgeous hotels and in some of the seediest places you can imagine. Once I stayed at a brothel. I didn’t know it was until all the knocking on doors and all the men doing the knocking. I didn’t sleep much that night. In a small hotel in Columbia, I swear you came out of the bathroom dirtier than when you went in. The hotel at the Iguazu Falls was pure luxury. It was right at the falls and had huge rooms and amazing food. There was a garden walk with parrots in the trees. There was even a casino. It was not my usual hotel. In Lomé, Togo I spent two nights at a wonderful hotel as a treat for myself before I moved over the Peace Corps Hostel. The hotel had air-conditioning and hot water and a delicious breakfast. It’s where I ate barbecued lobster on the terrace. The hostel had bunk beds.
On my first trip back to Ghana we stopped at a roadside chop bar (restaurant sort of) for fufu. I had to go the bathroom so I walked around the corner wall to the hole in the ground. My aim wasn’t as good as it used to be, but it got better the longer we traveled. By the time I left, it was perfect.
Categories: Musings
Tags: busy weeks, cold nights, cool mornings, fall days, Ghana, good aim, hole in the ground bathroom, luxury, seedy hotels, sloth days, traveler or tourist, traveling back to Bolga
Comments: 12 Comments
September 14, 2013
Okay, it’s as if I were a kid again. I’m watching a black and white science fiction movie on TV. This one was made in 1957 and is called The Night the World Exploded. The hero, a scientist, is flying with some air force types to check out a newly formed volcano. On the plane, they are sitting in regular chairs at a card table. The radio operator is on a folding chair. I hope it was a smooth flight. Our heroine, call me Hutch, froze on a ladder going into a cavern. Our hero talked her down by asking if she wanted her mommy and daddy. I’d have punched him. He is now, of course, in love with her, and yes, they did save the world, but it was a close call.
Baby spawn has much to learn. Late yesterday afternoon I heard Gracie prancing about the deck. The spawn was in a tree near her, and Gracie was trying to figure out how to get to it. I brought Gracie inside. A few hours later, I let her out and then heard all sorts of noises. I went out on the deck to check and saw Gracie in the backyard. She had the spawn cornered and was picking it up in her mouth then putting it back down. I went to save the spawn. I was barefoot and was walking in Gracie’s poop part of the yard carefully picking my way through the mine field. I got to Gracie and she took off away from me. The poor spawn ran only a little bit up a tree. It was soaked and mewing. I didn’t see any bites, just saliva. Gracie came to me finally, and we went into the house. That night I took her out twice but on a leash. This morning I checked before Gracie went out, and the baby was gone. I only hope that three run-ins with Gracie were enough for it to stay out of the yard.
I’ve never seen a baby pigeon. I figure they just arrive full-grown, and it’s the same with mourning doves. Baby squirrels, though, have been around the last couple of years. Before that, I would have assumed they too arrive full-grown though in the pine trees are old squirrel nests, huge nests built between branches. Last year I saw a mother squirrel trying to wean her baby. She kept lying on the branch so the baby had no access. The Gracie targeted baby squirrel is on its own, no mother in sight. I think there should have been one more lesson: how to avoid a dog!
Categories: Musings
Tags: B&W science fiction movie, baby squirrel, exploding Earth, Gracie and the squirrel, hero and heroine fall in love, saving the beastie
Comments: 12 Comments
September 13, 2013
The rain started when I was sleeping but wasn’t unexpected. It is still raining but hardly, only drop by drop slowly, and I can hear the drops falling on the umbrella. The day has a calmness about it despite the rain. The house is dark and quiet. Today is a favorite sort of day.
Yesterday Gracie had a run-in with a baby spawn which sounds a bit redundant so maybe spawnette would be a better word. Anyway, I heard a bit of a commotion and went into the yard. Gracie had the spawnette running through and around her legs. It was the safest place, a spot where Gracie couldn’t get at it. Gracie kept trying but wasn’t too successful. Finally the creature started to run and the paw got it, sort of flattened the spawn which then ran between Gracie’s legs again. It tried running away a few times but each time Gracie got it. I yelled for Gracie to come, and, as usual, Gracie ignored me. Here’s the irony: I used the hose on Gracie who ran. The spawn went underneath the outdoor shower for safety. I went into the house: mission accomplished. A bit later Gracie came in: her nose and mouth were covered in dirt. I knew she’d been digging. Sure as heck she’d dug a hole under the shower. I didn’t find a dead spawn so it must have gotten away. Much to her consternation, I washed Gracie’s face and cleaned her mouth.
The dry season in northern Ghana lasted half the year. We used to check out the morning sky and say it looked like rain, knowing we had months before it would rain again. The water was often turned off for two or three days most weeks, but we usually knew in advance so we filled our metal buckets with water and lined them up against the wall in the shower room. We also filled every water bottle. At night I’d take a bucket bath and then use the remaining water to flush the toilet. Without water, the grasses turned brown and the soil became dust. Any traveling meant dust in you mouth and all over your body and your clothes. Mammy lorries traveling on laterite roads were followed by dust clouds. I always thought of the old west and stagecoaches when I saw dust billowing behind the lorries.
I loved the start of the rainy season when the storms were most dramatic with thunder shaking the house and lightning bolts hitting the ground where you could see them. I loved the rain when it fell in Bolga.
Categories: Musings
Tags: baby spawn of Satan, bucket bath, dark and calm, dog the hole digger, dramatic storms, drops on the umbrella, dry season, Ghana, Gracie and the squirrel, hosed down, rain, rainy season
Comments: 22 Comments
September 12, 2013
Yesterday was summer with all its heat and humidity. We were cooler than most places, but that didn’t matter. I still took refuge in the house and the air-conditioning. This morning is cool and today will be hot but not like yesterday. I can already feel the difference in the humidity. The windows are open and the half-deflated Happy Birthday balloon from last month’s festivities is slightly swaying in the breeze. Gracie is taking advantage of the open door and staying outside.
On the back of the door going down the cellar is my spice rack. When I open the door, I am assailed with the best smells, smells which give me pause. Curry seems to be the strongest, but there is also another smell, a combination of all the herbs and spices in the rack, a smell which makes me think of Marrakech and the spice market.
Years ago I went to Santa Fe, once with my sisters then again with my mother. I saw chimineas on that first trip and especially loved the clay ones with the primitive designs. My mother surprised me the next Christmas as she had bought me one. That was before anyone knew what they were, before they became a backyard standard. I use to sit on the deck and burn the piñon wood I had bought on-line. It had the sweetest smell.
My garden has a variety of herbs. Window boxes sit on the deck rail, and I have also herbs growing in each of them. Rosemary fills one box. I love rubbing my hand up the stalk of rosemary then smelling the herb on my hand. When I cook with the rosemary, the kitchen fills with its scent.
The smell of a summer rain has been a favorite of mine since I was a kid. The smell of the rain comes before the storm, but once the rain begins, the smell is of wet earth and wet pavement. They have a singular smell, not sweet, maybe even a bit pungent, but they give the summer storm a bit of character, a depth the winter rainstorm never has.
I have my favorite Ghanaian smells-wood charcoal burning being the best one of all.
Fall is coming quickly and it will usher in the smells of the seasons, of Thanksgiving and Christmas. Those smells conjure memories of childhood and of my mother’s kitchen. They are really the best of any smells.
Categories: Musings
Tags: cooler day, less humidity, Marrakech, memories, piñon wood, rosemary, smells, smells of Thanksgiving and Christmas, spice market, spice rack, summer rain, summer rains smells, sunny, wood charcoal burning.
Comments: 8 Comments
