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“The only disability in life is a bad attitude.”

February 18, 2013

Today is a pretty day as long as you’re looking out from inside the house because it’s cold, and that dilutes the pretty. No drips from the roof and no melting of the weekend’s snow despite the bright sun is a sign of how cold it is. I had to walk through fairly deep snow to get my newspaper, but my plowman just arrived and shoveled the walk, freed my car and made the mailbox accessible for the mail truck tomorrow. I may go out later, but then again I’m liking the warm house.

When I was a kid, there was a blind girl in a neighborhood a few blocks from mine. I didn’t know her personally, but I knew her name was Patty. I remember her eyes were set in from her face and looked black to me. I don’t know if she ever went to school. I really didn’t know anything about her. Her parents would tie a rope around her waist which allowed her to go to the sidewalk but not into the street. Patty would walk up and down the sidewalk and clap her hands whenever a car went by, and I remember how loud the claps sounded. It didn’t seem strange or cruel to me that she was tied outside. I just figured it was the safest way for her to be there. On the few occasions, I go back to my hometown, the route sometimes takes me right by Patty’s sidewalk. I always wonder about her.

Another person I remember was developmentally disabled though in those days he was considered retarded. I don’t remember his name, but he was an adult when I was still a kid. I remember he always neatly dressed in grey, heavy chino work pants, a collared shirt and a light jacket. He walked everywhere around town and shook hands with just about every man he met. My dad always stopped to say hello and shook hands and always called him by name. Just about everybody did. I know he went to all the funerals at St. Patrick’s. I don’t know about the other churches. He always sat in the back and nobody ever minded. I don’t know what happened to him. We moved away and I never saw him again.

While I was growing up, I never saw anyone else who was in any way disabled. Maybe they were kept inside the house or in hospitals or boarding schools. Patty and the man I mentioned were part of the fabric of my town. I never thought twice about their disabilities. That was just part of who they were.

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“The ships hung in the sky in much the same way that bricks don’t.”

February 17, 2013

The snow is heavier than it was a couple of hours ago when I woke up. It was small and light then. Now there is a fury of flakes whipped by the wind. The bird feeders are being tossed to the left and right, and the birds ride with them. The tops of all the pine trees bend one direction then the other. When I went to get the papers, the snow went up over my shoes, but the driveway was clear. I could see the blacktop. The drifts have no pattern. The wind changes all that.

My house is warm. All three animals are with me, and all three of them are asleep. I can hear Gracie’s deep breathing. She is beside me on the couch. Fern is behind me on the back of the couch curled on an afghan, and Maddie is in her chair. We are all perfectly content.

I never believed in monsters when I was a little kid. Nothing was under the bed or in the closet. My imagination led me to places rather than things. I made several trips to the moon. My rocket ships were never like the space capsules of the real astronauts. Mine stood tall, had side fins and were so big inside that the crew could walk around after I turned on the artificial gravity. The kitchen always had coffee.

I wasn’t disappointed by Alan Shepard’s short flight. I was amazed we had sent a man into space, and I figured that was the first of many dress rehearsals before the real rockets would be built, the ones with kitchens. I watched John Glenn’s capsule take off and followed his flight as he orbited the Earth. I was older then and had given up on rocket ships with kitchens.

I never saw the trip to the moon. I was still in Africa, but I was lucky enough to hear bits and pieces about the moon landing on the radio, including real transmissions. It was exciting even without the visual coverage. We were finally on the moon, but I still didn’t know what it looked like. In the imaginings of my childhood I created a stark moonscape filled with craters and rocky hills. I was pretty close.

I was sorry there were no ruins on the moon from cities deserted long ago. I always sort of hoped there would be remnants looking a bit like the Great Wall of China. That would have been the perfect touch: that and a rocket ship with a kitchen.

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“There are those to whom one must advise madness.”

February 16, 2013

It’s late, but I woke up late and chose a leisurely morning. The coffee was delicious, and the maple butter on my toast was perfect. Baseball news is back in the papers, and my Red Sox are not in last place any more. I hungrily read everything and know that David’s injury is getting better each day, Lackey has lost weight and the team is much happier with its new manager. Maybe spring is not as far away as it seems. Okay, here’s the truth: I don’t really believe that. It’s just one of those things I write to give myself a bit of hope, a small bit of hope. I call it my Pollyanna syndrome. Today is cold, cloudy, icy and a really ugly day. Spring is still on some island somewhere sipping on a drink with a small umbrella while sitting on a lounge chair in the sand.

Snow has become a four letter word. George Carlin could have added it to his repertoire as the eighth dirty word. Yup, we’re expecting 4 to 8 inches of the filthy stuff starting tonight. With it will come heavy winds. The Cape is the storm’s main target. The rest of the state will get a dusting or maybe an inch or two. Once I finish here, I’ll do my storm chores and errands. The feeders need filling, the trash needs dumping, and I need comfort food. Gracie and I will go together then brace ourselves for what is to come, but I swear if I lose electricity this time I won’t be accountable for my actions. Call it temporary madness brought about by s***.

The sky has an eerie color, a before the storm color. Nothing outside is moving, not even the dead oak leaves. It’s strange and disconcerting. I feel a bit like Scarlett O’Hara did in that scene in the field where she stands, raises her fists to the sky and says, “As God is my witness, as God is my witness, they’re not going to lick me! I’m going to live through this, and when it’s all over, I’ll never be hungry again – no, nor any of my folks! If I have to lie, steal, cheat, or kill! As God is my witness, I’ll never be hungry again.” Substitute cold for hungry, and you have me.

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“The snow doesn’t give a soft white damn whom it touches.”

February 15, 2013

Sometimes, if you’re really lucky, you have one of those moments that just makes every part of you smile. Last night was trivia night. I arrived early to get a table for all of us, ordered a drink and just sat and looked around. It was Cape Cod I was seeing, the old Cape when in winter most places shut their doors and the summer people are long gone. At the Chatham Squire the walls are wood paneling like the old small summer cabins were, but there were even more remnants of the Cape I knew when I was young. Lots of guys had beards with lots of grey and the guys wore sweatshirts with hoods, not hoodies, but sweatshirts with hoods, and dark wool watch caps and you knew many were fishermen. Women wore heavy sweaters or sweatshirts and little make-up. Conversations were loud. It was like everyone knew everyone else. Music was playing, and I was about as content as I’ve been in a while. My team was running late, but I knew they’d make it in time. I was in the mood for seafood and had the fried clams. At the end of the evening, we didn’t win; in fact, we were awful, but we didn’t care. We went for the fun of it, for the companionship and for the laughs. It was a perfect evening.

Today is a beautiful day. It is supposed to hit 45˚. I know the ice is already melted, but it will freeze again tonight, and I’ll slip on it again tomorrow. Snow is a possibility for the weekend with snow showers Saturday and heavier snow on Sunday. I’m pretty sick of it. Snow is a kid’s thing. Adults look and first think about how beautiful it is. The falling snow quiets the world and leaves a pristine landscape like the front of a Christmas card then the snow stops then comes the shoveling, the cold hands, wet feet and misery. Meanwhile, kids throw snowballs and sled down hills. School is out for the day. Snow is wonderful.

I, however, have both feet in the adult camp right now. I’m still living with the misery of that last storm, and I’ll be hard-pressed to think how beautiful when it starts to snow again on Sunday. It’s going to take a while before I leave the outside light on so I can watch the snow fall the way I used to a few short weeks ago.

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“All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn’t hurt.”

February 14, 2013

Happy Valentine’s Day, my friends. I hope you all mark the day with flowers or chocolates or a few snuggles.

Last night it snowed a bit, enough to cover the walk and the car. I thought even that small amount of snow was overkill. It is Mother Nature run amok. I can see her now with her strands of hair flying in all directions. Her flower crown is dead. Her lovely flowing dress is filthy and torn, and her face has a snarl just for us. There is an evil gleam in her eyes. Run for your lives!

Valentine’s Day was one of my favorite days in school. We’d spend a couple of afternoons turning lowly shoe boxes into decorated Valentine’s boxes. I’d cover mine in red construction paper and make a slit on the top for all the valentines I expected then I’d decorate the paper. We’d leave it in school until the special day.

My mother would buy each of us a box of valentines. They had pictures on the front, and the sayings were usually puns: two ears of corn, “Shucks! I’d like to ‘ear you say you’d be my Valentine today”, or the turtle who shell always love me. Can we swing along together? That one, of course, had two kids in a swing. The kids always had red cheeks and big smiles. Clocks were common, “It’s time you were my valentine.”

The night before the big day I’d sit at the kitchen table and write out my valentines. I’d decide which of my classmates would receive one and put a name on each envelope. The worst part was fitting my own name on the back. Kathleen is a long one, and for some reason we always used full names so Ryan had to fit in there somewhere. In the morning, I’d carry my cards as if they were masterpieces, and I’d carry the cupcakes my mother had made for the afternoon party.

School that day was a loss. Arithmetic and spelling were no competition for valentines and a party. Finally, after lunch, the nun would have us clear off our desks. We’d get our boxes and get ready. She’d call us row by row, and we’d drop the valentines on desks as we walked. I can remember hoping and hoping to get one from a boy with whom I was smitten. In the second grade, smitten was about the best we could do. If I got one, I was giddy.

After all the rows had finished giving out their valentines, the party began. The food was up front for the taking. I remember lots and lots of red cupcakes, some sugar cookies and conversational hearts. My friends and I would sit and open our valentines together. I remember a lot of laughing, a lot of little girl laughing for that’s who we were. I don’t remember being disappointed, but maybe that’s something forgotten. I remember the fun of opening those cards, of eating a chocolate cupcake with red frosting, but I mostly remember carrying home my treasures in my beautiful Valentine’s Day box.

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“Like Alexander the Great and Caesar, I’m out to conquer the world. But first I have to stop at Walmart and pick up some supplies. ”

February 12, 2013

Clean, warm and happy describes me perfectly. The sun is out, snow is dripping off the roof, and the ice will soon melt. I hear the blast of heat from my furnace, the sweetest of sounds.

The road was black ice when I went to get the paper this morning. It had rained last night then the rain froze. As luck would have it, my paper was under the car. I needed to get the broom so I could push the paper out from underneath so I had to go back inside the house, a scary venture given my history with ice, but both times, in and out, I took minced steps. The road was so slippery ice skates would have served me better. The last thing I wanted was another fall. I still have pain from the first.

Gracie has been out most of the morning. She is my weather barometer. Speaking of which, the paper mentioned that unless the government decides to replace aging weather satellites, our polar-orbiting satellites will not be accurate for forecasting weather by 2016. Sandy’s landfall and this storm were accurately tracked and predicted by the European center for Medium-Range Weather Forecasts while the best model we have didn’t predict this as a really big storm. Soon enough I’ll have to rely on cranky knees and elbows for my forecasts. Oops, my back hurts, must be rain coming.

Today I step outside into the world, my first time since Friday. I suspect nothing has changed though, without TV or newspapers, I did miss some world-wide news. The Pope resigned and horse meat was taken off the grocery shelves. That news was still headlining yesterday’s paper. On the sports’ page, Red Sox spring updates have begun. Pitchers and catchers are already at spring training. Perhaps the Sox will do better than the cellar, their last occupied spot in the standings.

The local schools are not open again today. Even when I was a teacher, I loved snow days though today is more like a shelter day as the high school is still being used as one. Not everybody has electricity back. Thursday is the day being tossed about by NStar as to when all will be restored. If it were my house, I know they would find me sitting on the couch frozen and looking much like Jack Nicholson did in the maze at the end of the Shining.

I seem to have written far more than I expected for someone who has been living a sheltered life. Maybe tomorrow, after my jaunt outside, I will be bursting with news, jokes and commentaries about the world at large.

Did I mention I’m going to the dentist?

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“So all night long the storm roared on: The morning broke without a sun; In tiny spherule traced with lines Of Nature’s geometric signs, And, when the second morning shone, We looked upon a world unknown…”

February 11, 2013

The electricity came on at 10:45 this morning, nearly three days since my return to the days of Little House on the Prairie last Friday night. The heat is cranking and the house is now a balmy 47˚. When I woke up this morning, it was 39˚. I am still wearing three pairs of socks, a shirt, sweatshirt with a hood and a really heavy wool sweater, and Gracie is still wearing her coat as well. The mittens helped a little, but my hands were cold the whole time. The worst, though, was my cold nose. The only time it was warm was at night with my face under the covers, a doubled over down comforter and a second doubled over comforter, and I kept my hood up to protect my head.

You could see your breath in my house this morning. Outside was warmer.

The first morning (on Saturday) I heated my coffee from the night before in a pan on the fire. I had two cups, more to get my hands warm than anything else. I kept the fire going all day and had the quilts bundled around me. That day I had hope. There was a lot of hard wood in the cellar which I carried up, falling only once down just three steps. I broke some dishes on a bureau beside the steps and cursed and cried a little, more from frustration than anything else. I was close enough to the fire that I could feel some warmth and Gracie was beside me as was Fern. Poor Maddie meowed every time I went by and patted her and Maddie is never a meower. I read a real book, a Patterson called Zoo, that day as there was no way I was leaving the comforters or the fire except when Gracie wanted out. I was warm sleeping that night bundled as I was with the layers over me.

Sunday morning the house was 44˚. One of my neighbors brought the papers from the driveway to me as she was checking on all the neighbors. I told her I was fine except for coffee, my life’s blood. About an hour later she returned with a cup, and my day was made (such as it was!). I was running out of wood, my phone’s battery was in the red, no dog food left and my car was still stuck in the snow. I was freezing and Fern was so cold she got under the covers and Maddie got up on the couch with the dog, something she never does. I called my sister with an update of my misery. The only shelter which accepts animals was full, and I wasn’t about to leave them so I could go elsewhere. A while later my sister called. She had tried to find a motel which accepted animals but wasn’t lucky then she remembered my nephews. It took three calls to wake them up, but they were more than happy to come over. Amber, my nephew Tim’s girl friend, came and kept me company and brought gifts for me for the two of them. They have just come back from Australia, Bali, Hawaii and San Diego. They were in Australia working for a year and then stayed to tour for another few months. They’ve been gone a year and a half total. They also brought coffee, wood and dog food. They (Mike, my other nephew, and Tim) shoveled out my car and the walk. Amber said she hadn’t ever been in a house so cold. It was still 44˚ when she was here.

Last night was freezing. Gracie, Fern and I shared the couch, but I had to get up a couple of times to rearrange all of us so I’d be comfortable. I couldn’t believe how cold the house felt. Then, as I said, it was 39˚ when I woke up.

The house is 55 balmy degrees right now. I should be sun bathing in the warmth!

If I ever go on vacation, I needn’t worry as there are plenty of pseudo-Kats to write Coffee. I thoroughly enjoyed reading my blog!! I got a few laughs, and have to admit you sounded an awful lot like me!!

Birds are still fine. I filled all the feeders on Friday, and there is still seed in the biggest feeder!

As for the Spawns, I haven’t seen any!

No mice in four days!

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“About the woodlands I will go / To see the cherry hung with snow.”

February 8, 2013

Sorry for the late morning, but I met friends for our monthly breakfast. We worked together for years and are all retired now so this is our way of staying in touch. During breakfast, the snow started. The flakes are small and wet so none are sticking, but that will happen soon enough. I bought seed and suet this morning so I need to fill the feeders as soon as I finish here.

My car is backed into the driveway, the best spot to get it freed after the plowing. I have no reason to leave the house so I’ll hunker down and watch the weather on TV. I got a chuckle yesterday when I read in the paper that a weatherman calls it weather porn when people are mesmerized by the news and pictures of extraordinary weather on TV.

I still get excited when it snows but not the same way I did when I was a kid. In those days a big snow storm meant sledding down the huge hill on which we lived, building snow forts, having snow ball fights and, if we were lucky, a snow day. We’d be up early hoping to hear the fire whistle announce no school, and if it did, we’d cheer and get dressed right away to play in the snow. On went the snow pants, a sweater, the winter coat, a scarf, mittens, a hat and boots.

I remember the first few runs down the hill on my wooden sled after the big storm. The snow ruts from the sled’s runners were red, rusty from the sled sitting in the cellar all summer and fall. After a couple of runs, the rust would disappear, and the sled would go  so much faster. We’d hold the sled with both hands, run for all we were worth and jump on the sled, stomachs down and feet in the air then whiz down the hill. Steering was never easy. The front of the sled turned left or right but not very far. Hitting a snow bank was common. We’d hope to go all the way down the hill into the field at the bottom. That was an accomplishment. We’d grab the sled’s rope, usually icy by then, and walk back up the hill for another run.

The little kids sledded down the hill in the backyard. That way they were off the street and under the watchful eyes of parents.  Most had wooden sleds but a few had metal flying saucers which went wherever as there was no way to control them. You just slid down the hill, sometimes in circles. The little kids always walked back up the hill along the side yards so they wouldn’t wreck the run.

By the time we went in the house through the cellar, ice was stuck to our clothes, mittens were soaked, snow was inside the boots and we were shivering, but I don’t remember being cold. I just remember those runs as the most fun of the whole winter.

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“Snow flurries began to fall and they swirled around people’s legs like house cats. It was magical, this snow globe world.”

February 7, 2013

The morning had a bit of promise when I woke up around 9. The sun was shining, and it was cold but bearable. I put the coffee on and went out to get yesterday’s mail and the newspapers. I noticed much of the ice had melted yesterday, but, true to form, I still managed to find one icy patch and down I went. The mail scattered, and I whacked my elbow enough to make me yell; of course, no one saw or heard me. I stayed there a minute or two then slid over to the street where there was no ice so I could get up without falling again. I managed to get up, grabbed my mail and papers and went inside. My elbow was killing me so I sat on the stairs, held onto it and moaned a bit. Gracie came over and put her head in my lap. That’s just what I needed, a bit of sympathy. The elbow has a huge lump, and I’m sure it will be black and blue, but no bones were broken so it was a good fall. I’d give it an 8.

Snow is coming in what the paper has called historical proportions. Blizzard warnings are in effect in most of the state except here where we have a winter storm warning. It’s a nor’easter which could bring up to two feet or even more, up to 30 inches, of snow. The exact amount is still fluid as the weather pattern could change. Down here on the cape, we’ll have, for a time, a mixture of rain and snow so they’re only predicting about 9 inches for us. The snow will become heavy tomorrow afternoon and evening with 2 or 3 inches an hour falling. I have all my groceries, but I don’t have sustaining weather food: some chocolate or some ice cream (ironic food for a snow storm) or even cookies. Gracie and I are going to the dump later so we’ll stop and pick up a few things.

No mice in the last three days so I’ll have to check the trap to see if I set it right. If the peanut butter is gone, it means the mouse dined without being caught. The trap has to be set exactly right to work, and it takes me a while to do that. I find it frustrating though I can’t argue with the results.

The sun is back as is the blue sky. Mother Nature is giving us a bit of treat before the wallop. She does have an ironic sense of humor!

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“I am an omnivorous reader with a strangely retentive memory for trifles.”

February 5, 2013

Snow is lightly falling and has been all morning, but I doubt it will amount to much. When I went to get the papers, I almost fell as I didn’t see the ice hidden under the new snow. The ice is from the snow of a couple of nights ago which melted during the day yesterday but froze when the temperature dropped in the darkness of the late afternoon. How I didn’t fall is a mystery. I am a faller, a tripper, a down on my butt person so saving myself  is new to me, a miracle of sorts.

I’m feeling so much better that it was a busy day for me yesterday. I filled the feeders, watered plants, put laundry away, swept the kitchen floor, took down the wreaths and took off all their ornaments to save for next year and even made my bed.

We had a mouse yesterday, the first in a few days. When I went to bed, it was in the trap so Gracie and I did a midnight run. It was cold, really cold, but I decided not to leave the mouse in the trap all night. I know the mouse has to be let free over a mile away so its loses its homing instinct so Gracie and I drove to our usual spot. When I opened the trap, that mouse took off like a shot. Some mice have to be shaken a few times before I can get them out of the trap, but not this one. It was out and running. I left it at a spot where a few of the other mice have been freed. I have this vision, like Mole’s little home in The Wind in the Willows, where the other mice invite the new one into their homes where the fire is warming, the chair comfy and the bread and cheese is on the table. I know. I know. My imagination has gone amok!

I always wonder how I know some things. I probably read or heard them and my mind just put them away in my memory drawers for later use. At trivia one night the question was which cartoon character was introduced in the comic strip Thimble Theater in 1929. I said Popeye. Not one person on my team accepted my answer. They discussed it among themselves without any consideration that I might be right though I did offer Popeye one more time, but it was as if I had said nothing. They agreed on some other answer and turned it in. The correct answer was Popeye. They blamed me for the wrong answer saying I should have been more insistent.

In the crossword puzzle today the clue was ______Novo. I , of course, filled in Porto. That was easy. It is a city in Benin which used to be Dahomey when I lived in Africa. That’s one of the weird facts for which I know the origin. Thimble Theater still escapes me.

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