Archive for the ‘Musings’ category
April 5, 2013
The day is gray and rainy. Good thing I have no errands so I can just hang around and do house stuff. Yesterday I had three errands including my eye exam, the last of the yearly doctors’ visits. Unless I break or tear something open, I don’t have to see another doctor until next year. I do need a cat scan on my back which has been really bad for the last couple of weeks. I’m still a pretzel when I walk. I had to turn down working the marathon this year. I knew it would be too much. The cat scan is next week.
I don’t know what has happened to spontaneity. When I was a kid, it ruled our lives. We had school all week and church on Sunday, but the rest of the time was there for us to do whatever we wanted, most times on the spurn of the moment. Mention doing something now and people pull out calendars, and it seems to take forever to find a mutually free day. I remember the doorbell ringing around 2 one morning. It was my friend and her husband. His first homegrown tomatoes were ripe, and they were inviting me right then and there for BLT’s. I ran upstairs and got dressed. Another time I heard honking, and I went outside to find out what was going on. A couple of my friends were there who said, “Let’s go!” I grabbed my bag and went. I didn’t even ask where. Part of the fun was not knowing.
My friends and I have these wonderful theme parties, but they have to be planned. What is Cowboy Day without the right ten gallon hat and chuck wagon food? No skulls to decorate for Day of the Dead? What are you thinking? Chinese New Year means chop sticks and the right decorations. You can’t use a tiger during the year of the pig. I love all our parties, but just once I’d like to knock on doors, wake up my friends and invite them to a surprise, but I don’t dare. I expect they’d be a bit unnerved at the door bell ringing and maybe even upset, annoyed or angry at the intrusion and at being woken up. Twenty years ago I wouldn’t have hesitated. We were all a lot more flexible back then and there was nothing neater than a surprise. Now the best thing is a good night’s sleep. That’s too bad. Surprises are great fun.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bad back, Cowboy Day, good night's sleep, rainy day, spontaneous, surprises, theme parties
Comments: 8 Comments
April 4, 2013
The sun is shining but it is not warm, a bit of a deception I think. The sky is deep blue and beautiful. Lots of birds are taking advantage of the free food at the feeders. There is even a waiting line.
Hunky dory was part of an answer in the crossword puzzle today. It got me thinking. I don’t remember the last time I even heard anyone say hunky dory which is too bad as it has a great sound when said out loud, and it is one of those phrases which defies description. It’s a context guess but a tough one. Answer everything is hunky dory and tone alone would have to give the clue.
I do the crossword puzzle every day, and I’m noticing that many of the answers seem too easy. Most of these are historical, but for me, they’re like yesterday as I lived through them. I can imagine a twenty or thirty someone sitting and mulling. In my day, they’d chew on the eraser and mull. Now, I guess they sit at the keyboard. I can’t believe that sitting at the keyboard gives the same sort of help that chewing an eraser did. I was able to fill in every square, and I also did the cryptogram in a short time this morning. I felt smart.
Rhetorical questions were the bane of my childhood. “What do you think you’re doing?” sounds like a legitimate question but giving an answer was talking back. It took me a while to sort that out. “Who do you think you are?” was another one of those questions to avoid. It was usually asked when I’d already done something wrong, something above my station. My mother was a master at the rhetorical question. As soon as she asked, “And who do you think is cleaning that up?” I headed to get the whisk broom and the dust pan.
My mother was also the queen of quilt. She got us every time. When she’d ask us to do something and we’d say in a minute, my mother went into her theatrics. “Never mind. I’ll do it myself,” she’d say oozing with self-pity and disappointment. We’d scurry to get done what she wanted. Sometimes, though, she’d add to the guilt by saying, “Too late. I’ll do it myself.” That was a heavy burden to carry, and she knew it. My mother was a master at her art.
Categories: Musings
Tags: cold, dust pan, guilt, hunky dory, mothers, pencils, rhetorical question, sunny day, theatrics, whisk broom
Comments: 15 Comments
April 2, 2013
Spring is in hiatus. My furnace is blasting away, and I’m glad as the house was cold this morning. There was no lingering to appreciate the flowers and the colors in my front garden when I went to get the papers. I noticed a few feeders need filling so I’ll venture out to the deck later. One errand only today: dog food and cat litter at Agway.
The Red Sox were tremendous yesterday. I wore my green Sox t-shirt and my blue sweatshirt with the World Series Emblem. Rally monkey sat and watched the entire game having nothing to do: the Sox led the whole time. We had hot dogs for lunch as befitting a ballgame. Much of the team is new, and this was their first game in a Boston uniform so we spent time trying to figure out who was at bat, but Pedroia we know and his first at bat was a single, a great way to open his season! I know it’s only one game, but it is the first opener the Sox have won in a while. It was a good afternoon.
Watching baseball made me impatient for summer. My deck is still wearing winter with all the furniture covered, the candles packed away and the yard ornaments in storage. I want warm mornings and breakfast on the deck. I can hardly wait for our first Saturday movie. I don’t have a theme for this year so I’ll have to start thinking and looking. I do have a new bird for the yard, a Christmas present. It is white, looks a bit like an egret and is huge. In my Easter basket was a small door and two small windows, obviously for a garden sprite to set up housekeeping. I also have some new lights, two stars with trails of lights, for the trees in the back. The backyard in summer is magical.
I remember lit punk sticks from when I was little. They had this smell I can still identify, and I loved waving the stick around as if it were a sparkler. I used to watch as the stick burned smaller and smaller. The smell kept the bugs away but I never noticed. It was the fun of the punk stick I remember the most.
We used mosquito coils in Ghana because lots of places had no screens. I really liked the smell of them as they burned. The coil had a hole at the smallest part, and you had to be careful when you fit the hole on the holder or the coil could break. The coils burned from the outside ring to the inside smallest ring. Ash just fell on the floor. Once, when my friends and I were hitching a ride from Koforidua to Accra, a Mercedes-Benz stopped. The owner of the car was a Lebanese man who made and sold mosquito coils. He gave us a few to take with us. The other part of that ride I remember is we were in the back seat where the smell of the exhaust was almost overpowering. We opened both windows and stuck our heads out so we’d survive the ride, but it was worth it: we got free mosquito coils and a ride in a Mercedes all the way to Accra.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Baseball, cold day, hot dogs, magic, mosquito coil, mosquito coils, punk sticks, Red Sox, summer, the deck'movies, where's spring?
Comments: 27 Comments
April 1, 2013
Easter was wonderful. The sun was shining the whole day in celebration. Dinner was perfect. Our table was at a window overlooking the water. Just for the fun of it, we brought a light up bunny from the Easter basket to decorate the table. Miss Bunny was pink with flowered fabric hands and ears, a lace collar and lights which blinked and she was quite the conversation piece. People pointed and laughed and chatted with us about our dinner guest. We took Miss Bunny’s picture as a memento of her big day. We each had a few drinks, generous drinks, and the food was delicious. My plate was empty with only a bit of gravy to prove there had been a dinner. The restaurant was totally filled, but we had a favorite couple seated near us. They were old, and the wife had to help her husband sit down. She was wearing a bright yellow spring coat and the best hat ever, round and flowered. I took a picture as she was taking it off at the table-the woman is smiling from ear to ear. They ordered martinis, and I liked that couple even more. After dinner, over dessert, we all agreed we loved our Easter tradition of dinner at the Ocean House.
Today is baseball’s opening day. Last year my Sox were in last place at the end of the season so any other place would be an improvement. The game is against the Yankees and starts at 1. I’ll wear my Red Sox sweatshirt and cheer like crazy. I am an eternal optimist. The Globe has been filled with articles discussing this year’s team and the toxicity of last year’s. Jackie Bradley Jr. is 23 and never got as high as Triple A, but he’s going to be in left field today and is, “Ready to start the adventure.” You have to love a baseball player who still thinks of baseball as a game, an adventure, and not a business. His fiancé and his parents will be at the game to watch his debut. Welcome to Boston, Jackie!
I remember the baseball of my childhood. It was when baseball sang of summer, of pick-up games in fields, of the whack of the wooden bats and the taunting from the outfield, “No Batter, no batter.” Baseball was seldom complicated: three up, three down and nine innings or less if we got hot, tired or thirsty. We shared gloves so everyone would have one. We only had one ball, and if it got lost, the game was halted while we all hunted for it in the tall grass beside the field. Bases were whatever we could find, and we’d pace out the distance between them one sneaker heel to toe to the other. We didn’t have umpires, and we’d get impatient at batters who stayed in the box far too long. Safe or out at one of the bases often became an argument, but not a serious argument, and we always settle it fairly so the game could continue. Baseball was easy to love when we were kids.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Baseball, dinner, Easter, Easter hat, opening day, pick up baseball, Red Sox, summer ball, water view
Comments: 20 Comments
March 31, 2013
The sun is shining on this Easter morning. The air is still, and the day is getting warmer. No winter coats will cover pastel Easter dresses. I can hear birds singing even though the windows are closed. Yesterday I saw a few buds on one of my bushes. The buds are tiny and closed tightly, but they are another sign that spring is gaining hold.
The alarm rang at 6:15 this morning, and I turned it off and went back to sleep for an hour. I had set it early so I could sneak down my friends’ house and decorate the tree which hangs over their deck: it’s an annual Easter surprise. Though if it’s annual, is it really a surprise? Anyway, when I realized how late it was, I was afraid they’d be awake, but Gracie and I went anyway. The car was covered in frost so I scrapped the windows and off we went. At their house, all the shades were down so they were still abed. I went on the deck and started decorating. One of the giant decorated paper lanterns fell over the deck rail. That meant walking off the deck then all around the outside of the deck and through the underbrush to retrieve it. That was an adventure. The leaves and branches were soaked and sucked up one of my slippers. I had to yank it out of the muck. I found a bird feeder covered in wet leaves and put it on the deck rail. I also saw a mango. I’m still perplexed a bit about the mango, strange spot for one. While I was mucking about, the door opened and out came Darci, their dog. Whoever let her out never looked so I wasn’t caught. I walked back to the deck, petted Darci for a while, hung the lantern then sneaked away. I just got a call thanking me for the surprise and telling me how lovely the tree looks.
I remember so well Easter Sunday mass when I was young. The church was always beautiful and filled with light. The sun shined through the stained glass windows. The dark purple of lent had been replaced by white and all the statues were uncovered. Flowers decorated the floor in front of and all around the altar. I remember the lilies because they were the tallest. The church was always crowded. Women wore hats, fancy hats with veils, small see through veils that went down as far as their eyes. The men wore suits and carried their hats into the church. Little girls wore dresses in pinks and blues and all the different shades of pastel. They wore short white gloves and round hats with ribbons. Their shoes were patent leather, both black and white, and were worn with fancy white socks with lace around the edges. Some boys wore suits, ones with jackets checkered in the front. Others wore white shirts and ties and new pants with deep creases. The shoes were always new and always with laces. The choir sang at Easter. If I had known the word back then, I would have said it was majestic, mass on Easter Sunday.
Happy Easter!
Categories: Musings
Tags: birds, church', decorating, dressy clothes, Easter, hats, Light, lilies, majesty, Mass, new shoes, pastel dresses, suits, sun, Tree, veils
Comments: 14 Comments
March 30, 2013
Mother Nature is spoiling us with these sunny days and blue skies. It is chilly still but not cold, true sweatshirt weather. Fern is sprawled and napping in the sun streaming through the front door while Gracie and Maddie are napping elsewhere. I just watched Godzilla which I haven’t seen in years. It made me laugh. Most of the film is still in Japanese so scenes with Raymond Burr were inserted so we’d know what the heck was going on. He spends the entire movie looking straight ahead and doing voice-overs. The special effects are mostly miniatures, easy to spot. I got a big chuckle out of Burr at a press conference. He was writing for all he was worth while the information was being relayed in Japanese which he didn’t speak. In one scene a woman fell as she was running from Godzilla just as every B movie dictates but so did a soldier. That one is a new twist. It was in one of the inserted scenes and the guy was saved by Raymond Burr. During Godzilla’s rampage on Tokyo, Burr stands at a window, sweat pouring down his face while he describes the horror he’s watching for his editor into the microphone of a tape recorder. He just stands there until Godzilla destroys the building and the ceiling falls in on Burr who does survive. Godzilla doesn’t.
My neighborhood is quiet. I haven’t even heard a car going down the street or a dog barking. I have no plans for the day, no errands and nothing to do around the house except make my bed, but I’m hesitant as I’m thinking afternoon nap. I’m in the middle of a Lisa Gardner book called Touch and Go so I may curl up on the couch with my iPad and read away the afternoon.
Holy Saturday was always just an ordinary Saturday. We didn’t go to church: there were no services. We’d play outside weather permitting. That night we’d take our usual Saturday night baths with maybe a bit of extra scrubbing. The Easter Bunny was coming, but he never conjured the same excitement and anticipation as Santa did. We knew they’d be jelly beans and chocolate rabbits, a candy egg or two, a coloring book, crayons and a few small toys. My mother would let us eat one choice from our baskets, never the whole rabbit, and then we’d have to get ready for church. Our new clothes were all laid out, tags snipped and ironing done. After we’d gotten dressed, there were usually pictures, black and white pictures. We wore pastels.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bath night, Godzilla, Holy Saturday, Japanese Horror movie, pretty day, quiet neighborhood, Raymond Burr, reading, sunny day
Comments: 20 Comments
March 29, 2013
The day is lovely, sunny and fairly warm. I stood outside a long while this morning checking out the lower forty: okay, a bit of an exaggeration there. It was the side yard where the day lilies grow. I noticed their shoots are all above the ground. In the front garden the most beautiful cluster of yellow flowers is blooming. It deserves a picture so I’ll go back out later. All of the crocus are up: purple, yellow, white and a few variegated. I’m thinking they are the best harbingers of spring.
My feeders are empty again, good thing I bought more seed yesterday when I did my errands. Gracie and I did four of them including the dump and Agway, her two favorite spots. I also stopped at Hot Diggity Dog and bought Gracie some pastries for Easter then went next store to Buckies Biscotti and treated myself to lunch and a cupcake. It was altogether a most satisfying day.
We always had Good Friday off from school though the nuns expected us, the older kids, to pick an hour to do vigil between noon and three. The vigil was in the downstairs church, never in the big church upstairs. I remember how dark and quiet the church was. All the statues were covered in purple cloth. The only sounds were the creaking of the pews as people came and went or just tried to make themselves more comfortable on the wooden pews. I remember wearing play clothes to do vigil, even pants. It wasn’t like a Sunday when you had to wear a dress. There was always a nun sitting in the back checking us in and out. We only had to stay an hour, but it seemed far longer just sitting there quietly and supposedly praying. I sneaked in a book a couple of times and got caught once. The nun just held out her hand, and I gave it to her. I must have look too suspiciously pious with my head bent in constant prayer. She gave me back the book when I left.
Some years, when I was teaching, Good Friday was just before April vacation week so I got to leave early, on Thursday night, for Europe. I usually went every April. One year my sister and I went to London. She had never been there, and I had been there several times so I let her pick what she wanted to do, and we did everything on her list and more. I remember waking up on Easter morning and finding the Easter Bunny had left fudge eggs and cards, both compliments of our parents who had sneaked them to each of us to give to the other. That Easter Sunday we went to Windsor Castle, and there were huge crowds wandering around and a band was playing. I remember it was really windy and cold. That’s my strongest memory of that Easter Sunday.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bird feeders, Buckies, Crocus, day lilies, errands, Good Friday vigil, Hot Diggity Dog, London, lovely day, Lunch, nuns, prayer
Comments: 14 Comments
March 28, 2013
The morning is cloudy and was rainy earlier but it was a small rain, droplets. I would moan and groan about the sunless world in which I live except this morning was different. Over the sound of the rain I could hear birds singing. They were greeting the morning, and rain didn’t matter: it was the joy of the morning.
I stood at the kitchen window and watched the flicker pecking at suet in the feeder I bought just for him. A bird I don’t know waited its turn. I’ll look it up later in my bird book. One goldfinch was bright with color, the first to break out of winter drab. I noticed the thistle feeder is empty. I’ve had more goldfinches than ever, sometimes seven or eight at the same time, and thistle is a favorite of theirs. The chickadees are few, and I miss them. They, the titmice and nuthatches are the sunflower seed birds. I have three different feeders for them. The sole woodpecker is either at the suet in the small feeder or tapping a pine tree. The small suet feeder looks like a house. It’s kind of cool and the birds grab on upside down.
I don’t remember people having bird feeders in their yards when I will little. The few times we went to Boston in the warmer weather, I remember feeding the pigeons and the ducks at the Public Garden. I also remember feeding the squirrels. That was before their spawn days. I thought it was really neat to see them so up-close. Pigeons are still fun to watch. Drop a few pieces of bread and they all move to the same spot, pushing and shoving and even taking to the air. They are very noisy birds. I always feel bad about pigeons. They’re nobody’s favorite bird. They have squat bodies and are dull in color. Pigeons seem to hang around in large numbers so the odds of getting bread are slim. I always try to throw some to the back of the pack which then makes all them turn just about at the same time and they all squawk about the inconvenience.
My mother used to get pigeons at her feeders, city birds we’d call them. It frustrated her to no end. She wanted cute little birds like chickadees, but, instead, she’d get sparrows, almost as common as the pigeons. The crows dropped by often because my mother was always throwing out something for them. “Save it for the crows,” she’d tell us. Once she got a seagull. That was a puzzler. She called to have me guess the bird which had visited. I didn’t guess seagull. That’s one bird which has never ever stopped at my feeders. I guess my mother’s was a country cousin of sorts visiting its city cousins. She never saw another seagull in her yard.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bird feeders, bird songs, chickadees, ducks, goldfinches, pigeons, Public Garden, rain, seagull, sparrows, squirrels, sunless world, thistle
Comments: 25 Comments
March 26, 2013
The snow never materialized last night but it did sleet then rain for a short while, and the morning still bears the remnants of the storm though storm seems a bit grandiose a description for a bit of rain and sleet. Our familiar gray skies are back, but the sun has been making quick visits then disappearing to wherever it’s been going for what seems like weeks. I watched the bird feeders while my coffee was dripping, and my suet feeder had a huge guest, a flicker. I also noticed the gold finches are getting brighter. The tops of the hyacinths are appearing above their leaves, and there are several daffodil buds. I think we’re in the two steps forward and only one step back part of spring. It makes me hopeful for one really warm day when I can sit on the deck, close my eyes and fall asleep with the sun on my face.
The perfect day when I was about ten was always in the spring. It was warm and sunny but not hot. I’d wear my spring jacket, my favorite of all jackets. It had a front zipper and was pale pink. The first wearing of that jacket was a symbol back then though symbolism was lost on the young me. I just knew I loved my jacket because it was light and pink and had replaced the heavy, dark winter coats and layers we’d worn for months. Wearing it was the acknowledgment the season had finally changed and winter was passed.
On my perfect day, usually a Saturday, I’d go down the cellar and maneuver my bike out the door and up the stairs. That was never easy. The door faced a wall so the angle was all wrong. I had to lift the front wheel in the air to get the back wheel out. Once up the stairs I’d get on my bike, ride across the side lawn and down the grassy hill, a maneuver forbidden by my dad who’d yell later when he saw the tire marks. I’d always get the how many times do I have to tell you lecture, but the little ride was worth it. My dad just didn’t get how neat it was to start my adventure by going down his small hill. From there, I’d sometimes ride down the big hill on which we lived or I’d take the side street and head toward the field with the horses. I remember how bright the sun seemed and how the trees had buds and the grass was finally turning green. I’d see the colors of the spring flowers blooming above the ground. The air smelled fresh and brand new. I always took my time, not wanting to miss a single thing though I’d taken that same route so many times. I remember feeling joyful and as alive as spring as I rode through the small streets.
I have that same feeling every year on the very first warm spring day even without my bike.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bike riding, buds, Clouds, flicker, flowers, fresh air, gold finches, green lawn, hyancinths, perfect day, spring, spring jacket
Comments: 24 Comments
March 25, 2013
This morning the alarm woke me at 4:30. That’s right, 4:30, the most ungodly of hours, which is a bit of a play on the day as I got that early so I could leave at 5 to go to the 20th anniversary mass for my father. It is nearly beyond belief to realize he has been gone that long. I think of him often, and we still miss him every day. The mass was in a church about an hour and a half from here, close to where he and my mother used to live. My sister from Colorado is here for a few days and came especially for the mass. I left at 5 and arrived at the church about 5 minutes before the mass ended. A traffic accident on the expressway kept me in bumper to bumper traffic. I celebrate birthdays, the Fourth of July and a Christmas or two before the traffic broke, but once I knew I was going to be late, I was patient sitting in the car, so unlike me, but I hadn’t any other choice. I listened to the radio and learned all about the fiscal crisis in Cyprus, the snow coming my way and traffic updates on the 3’s. I’m hoping someone opines about Cyprus so I can jump in with my opinion. The ride home was just as awful. Another accident kept me in bumper to bumper traffic before I even reached the city, but once through the mess, I whizzed my way home. I had an errand which I didn’t care to do and, instead, went straight home and back to bed. I just woke up.
We all went to breakfast after the mass. Three of my cousins took the day off so they could go to mass and breakfast then they’ll spend the rest of the day with my two sisters. I like my family. I am much older, and though they are closer to my two sisters and spend lots of time together, I always get the hug and the kiss when we see each other. We are a family of huggers and kissers, even the guys. That’s a cool thing.
Two inches of snow are coming my way. I swear my sister brought it as she left over a foot of it behind in Colorado. The snow won’t last, according to the six or eight weather forecasts I heard, as it will be warm enough to melt the snow the next two days. I think the words were seasonably warm which didn’t get my heart thumping.
Well, that’s it for today: not much happening when you spend most of the day sitting in a car moving at a snail’s pace and listening to a combination of NPR, WBZ news radio and WEEI sports. Did I mention I found out that a 15th seed has made it to the sweet 16 for the first time?
Categories: Musings
Tags: breakfast, bumper to bumper, Cyprus, family, hugs and kisses, memorial mass, nap, NPR, Snow, traffic, WBZ, WEEI
Comments: 30 Comments
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