Archive for the ‘Musings’ category

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“Look up in the sky! It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s Superman!”

January 12, 2013

Today is a low-keyed day though I do have one triumph to report. A mouse now has a new residence. I caught my first one last night. It fell for the old cheese in the box routine. I noticed its capture around 10:30 last night so Gracie and I took the mouse for a ride and, in defiance of the law, relocated it a few blocks away. The mouse was a black one, and I think the same one the dog was chasing on Christmas Eve. I wish it well in its new home wherever that is.

The week has been a busy one for me, and I’m done with it. Today is a nothing day: no errands, no mice, no sun and no ambition. Maybe I’ll read, or maybe I won’t. I’m ambivalent. I’d watch the syfy channel, but today is destroy Earth day, and I’ve already seem most of them. I know the endings-the Earth is always saved.

When I was a kid, I don’t remember ever having nothing days. Monday to Friday was school, and it consumed most of my week. At this time of year, when I’d get home, the dark came too early, and it was usually too cold for playing outside in the afternoons. We’d play in the cellar instead or play a board game while lying on the living rug or watch television.

Superman was on TV every day at 4:30. It never occurred to me back then that Lois, Jimmy and Perry should have seen through Clark’s disguise and should have followed up the questions Lois always asked about Clark’s disappearance when Superman was on the scene. It looked like Superman was really flying though I knew he wasn’t. I can still remember the flying music and the sound of the wind as Superman jumped into the air then flew with arms outstretched. Clark always took off his tie first. That and the music were the sign Clark was soon to be Superman. I wondered about the suits he left in telephone booths and alleys. I figured he always went back to the storage room for the suits he left at work but what about the others.  Now I just can’t imagine his clothing allowance. I can still see in my mind’s eye the train and the shooting gun when Superman was described at the beginning of the program, “Faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive.” It was stirring to see Superman, arms akimbo, with the flag waving behind him. The world was in good hands!

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“Now listen, we need to be quiet as mice. No, quieter than that. As quiet as…as…” “Dead mice?” Reynie suggested. “Perfect,” said Kate with an approving nod. “As quiet as dead mice.”

January 11, 2013

This morning I had breakfast with friends, people with whom I worked with at the high school who have also retired, then did a couple of errands; hence, the lateness of Coffee today.

I am going to change the name of this blog to something alliterative like Critter Corner or Animal Antics or maybe, after last night, Rodent Roaming. It seems I need the Pied Piper of Hamlin and I will the price he asks. When I went to feed the cats last night, I noticed familiar droppings in the eaves where I keep the cat dishes. Yup, mice are in the eaves in my bedroom. I had heard them but not seen any real evidence until yesterday. I keep the cat food in the eaves to protect it from Gracie, but with the mice around, I took the two dishes out, emptied them, took them downstairs and scrubbed them. I went back upstairs, filled the dishes and left them outside the eaves on the rug. Gracie, Fern and I were in bed. I was finishing my book when I noticed movement. A small mouse had come out of the eaves looking for the food dish. He was obviously a baby so I figure generations live in my eaves. This happened one other time years ago when the cats I had were old so I caught the mice myself in a Have-a-heart trap, all 17 of them. Fern, lying on the bed with me, saw the mouse, sat up and just watched for the longest time. I figured she was confused and thought she was at the movies watching Ben or Willard. I watched too and the mouse kept trying to get at the dried cat food dish. I finally took the dish up to a spot where the mouse couldn’t at it but neither could the cats. They’d be okay as they had wet food.

This morning I refilled the wet food, came downstairs and went outside to get the papers. Gracie went right upstairs and ate the cat food. She was still up there when I came back in so I yelled and she ran downstairs with guilt written all over her face. I put a gate across the door frame to keep Gracie out.

Today I bought two Have-a-Heart traps and will bait and place them upstairs. I also bought mouse repellant for when I finally get rid of the rodents. I was told to be careful if I take the mice to let them loose as it is illegal to transport animals in traps. That’s all I need: a blue light behind me and the evidence in a cage on the floor of the front seat.

Well, life goes on here in strange ways. I swear rodents have my number. They are a cabal meeting to design ways to drive me crazy. The spawns of Satan send representatives as do the upstairs and downstairs mice. I have two cats, one of whom would catch the mice if she were upstairs while the other one finds them entertaining. Gracie corners them, but she was sleeping,  snoring loudly, and missed the fun. I finally finished my book, turned off the light and went to sleep.

I will, after I post, go upstairs and set the traps. I’ll keep a running count of mice who get caught. I really hope I don’t beat my count of 17.

 

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“You don’t get anything clean without getting something else dirty.”

January 10, 2013

Some days are memorable. Others are a matter of course. Most days I just go about my business whatever it happens to be. I have my sloth days, favorites of mine, when turning pages is the most activity I get. The industrious days aren’t all that frequent by choice. I figure I was industrious every week day for years, and that was more than enough. The last two days have been rotten days, an adjective I seldom use. I don’t care for it much, but right now it is the only word which comes to mind. My sister called them typical days for me, but they didn’t include falling off a ladder, tripping over something or falling downstairs so they weren’t all that typical. They were just plain rotten. The events which soured the days weren’t all that memorable so you can stop here if you want. If you’re curious, read on, but I warn you that in the course of human events these don’t really merit much attention. Because they happened to me, I’ll remember.

Tuesday early evening and yesterday afternoon were fiascos. On Tuesday I cursed, sweated and screamed in frustration as I cleaned the refrigerator because I couldn’t remove the bottom drawers and the shelf which held them as the left fridge door, the exit point, was blocked by the microwave table. I had to move the microwave, the table, the cookbooks under the table (it’s really an old student’s desk, but I figured you didn’t need that information) and the jars around it. By then I was exhausted and dripping sweat, an ugly sight, but I couldn’t stop. Finally one drawer came out easily. By manipulating the other this way and that I finally got it out and then I tried the same technique on the the shelf which holds the drawers, but it wouldn’t budge. One side did but not the other. I was so frustration I went outside on the deck to cool down and to scream just a bit with clenched fists. When I came back inside, I was able to get the shelf out by turning it sideways. I washed the drawers, the glass top of the shelf and the shelf holder, manipulated them and got them back in the fridge. I was done until Wednesday.

Om Wednesday, I decided to clean the deli drawer which was easy to get out as was the piece which holds the deli drawer, but while removing it, I knocked over a bottle of apple cider on the shelf beside it, and the cider spilled all over the bottom of the fridge, the same bottom with the drawers about which I ranted and cursed the day before when I cleaned it. Luckily, I had some curses left over I could use, and I did. I also spent nearly an hour cleaning up the mess I had made.

Meanwhile, Gracie was sick. She had been salivating all afternoon, hadn’t eaten and couldn’t settle down. I gave her green fronds from the spider plant. They settled her stomach for a bit but then it started again. A few more times of green fronds and settling a bit brought us to 11 when we went upstairs to bed. Gracie settled right beside me so that her body was against mine. Not comfortable for me but comforting for her. At 12 and 1:30, Gracie started again so we went downstairs where she ate some more greenery. I decided to stay downstairs and fetched my pillows, cleared off the couch and tried to find room around Gracie  who was in the middle of the couch. The afghan I used as a blanket was crocheted so it has holes and wasn’t warm. I was cold despite the sweatshirt, pants and socks. I was also uncomfortable and tired. Gracie woke again at 3:30, and I figured it was just about emergency vet time, but she ate more fronds and fell asleep for another hour. No fronds and no sleep for me. At 4:30 Gracie rang her bells to go out. When she came back inside about ten minutes later, she jumped on the couch and fell asleep until 9 Wednesday morning. She was fine all day. She ate her dry food and her supper and had her usual naps. All is well with Miss Gracie.

Meanwhile, I am exhausted from wrestling with a refrigerator and barely sleeping on the couch. I have used all my allotment of curses for the next three months. The only good thing is I have a really clean refrigerator. I’m hoping for company so I can show it off!

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“Football combines two of the worst things in American life. It is violence punctuated by committee meetings.”

January 7, 2013

A good afternoon to you all! It seems I slept away the morning. Because the clock in my bedroom doesn’t work, I had no idea the time when I finally got out of bed. Fern and Gracie were with me, and they stretched and greeted me before we went downstairs. I got a shock when I saw it was after eleven. My neighbors must have been thinking about calling the rescue squad as my newspapers were still in the driveway. My morning ritual doesn’t change despite the hour so I took my time and read the papers with my coffee and did the crosswords puzzles and the cryptogram before I opened my computer. The sun which greeted me when I finally crawled out of bed is gone now. I guess I missed most of it. Now the sky is filled with clouds which have darkened the day. I have to go out and fill the feeders so I hope it doesn’t rain.

My dance card for the week has dinner with a friend, a doctor’s appointment and breakfast with friends on Friday. I can’t remember the last time it was so filled. One event a week has been the average. I don’t ever count Sunday breakfast as that is a ritual as is Sunday game night with my friends when we do appies and dessert with games in between, mostly Phase 10 and Sorry. Who’d ever think that a game like Sorry would be the source for such language, blue language which hangs in the air over our heads. Sunday is the one day I try never to book anything else. Next Sunday will still be game day, but not our game day. Next Sunday is football and the Patriots.

I always think of my Dad when the Pats are in play-off games. He was an ardent fan who would be thrilled at the success of the Pats. His first allegiance, when I was a kid, had been to the NY Giants but that was before the AFL and the Boston Patriots. He quickly became a Pats fan, but they were the lowly Pats who appeared only once in a championship where they were trounced. My father, though, never gave up. He watched every game from his spot on the couch. I really mean his spot as no one else ever sat there. It was his seat. My dad would jump up and yell and curse at the TV when the Pats fumbled or the other team scored. Most of the time my mother and I sat in the kitchen playing games. My mother never liked sports of any kind so I’d keep her company but I’d periodically check on the game.

If my parents were still with us, I’d go up to their house next Sunday, and we’d all watch the game together, even my mother. She, however, had no inkling as to how the game of football is played. A couple of times she rooted for the other team. We never said anything. She was just trying to be good fan.

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“Life is a celebration of awakenings, of new beginnings, and wonderful surprises that enlighten the soul.”

January 6, 2013

The morning is cold and dark. I woke up at 5:30, and the heat hadn’t yet been triggered beyond its 62˚ night setting so I tried to snuggle under the comforter and go back to sleep. It didn’t happen so I came downstairs, turned up the heat and turned on the coffee. All three animals are here in the den with me, and each is sleeping on a favorite spot. Gracie gets the couch, Fern sleeps on the afghan on the back of the couch and Maddie gets the chair. They look warm and comfortable. I’m a bit jealous they all fell back to sleep.

Yesterday I finished putting Christmas away. Last night I lit the electric candles on the tables in my living room, and in the kitchen I lit the quahog shell lights and the pepper bunch lights. The kitchen had a reddish tint. I miss the colors the Christmas tree brought to light up the night.

From now on winter is boring. I know each month has a day highlighted on the calendar, but that isn’t really enough. I’m going to have to manufacture celebrations, and I’ve been hunting for my favorites. January 10th is Peculiar People Day, and I have several candidates. In February is Valentine’s Day or chocolate and flowers day so I guess that month is covered though I could celebrate Kite Flying Day on the 8th if there is a good wind. The beach is the best place for flying kites, and I have a great kite just waiting to be flown. It has wooden struts and a cloth design, a dragon. It is meant to fly. In March is National Grammar Day, a day close to my heart. I can wear my new tee-shirt: Punctuation saves lives. It has two sentences above that line: Lets eat grandma and Let’s eat, grandma. I expect no further explanation is necessary. The first day of spring is also in March, and we have our traditions to welcome that day. Beyond that I have nothing, but I always find April a hopeful month when warmth creeps back and the dafs poke above the ground, and color starts to return to brighten the world.

Today is the Epiphany, Three King’s Day.  Tonight is the last night for my outside lights.

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“Even though it’s dark and cold there is always a shade of light.”

January 5, 2013

Last night was one of those when will I ever get tired nights. Luckily, TCM kept me occupied with a slew of B science fiction movies. I got to see The Creature from the Black Lagoon, Tarantula, The Incredible Shrinking Man and It Came from Outer Space.  It was around two before It returned to Outer Space so I could go to bed. I love those movies as bad as they are at times. That’s the fun of them. In the Creature, a favorite of mine, the jungle is filled with howls and the sounds of animals. It is overgrown with vines and trees. The underwater is almost eerie with plants waving back and forth and trailing in the water. The best scene is when the Creature swims beneath the girl in the water and touches her foot a couple of times but touches it so gently the girl has no idea what is in the water below her. It’s the scene Spielberg borrowed for the start of Jaws though his opening ended a bit less gently. Later in the Creature, the girl, as per the rules of B movies, runs and then falls so the Creature can capture her and take her to his lair, a maze of underground caves. The brave men follow. One man dies. The girl is saved. The Creature isn’t until the sequel.

The morning is chilly, around 35˚, and the day won’t get much warmer. I have to go out for a few groceries. The larder is so empty it echoes.

There is a mouse living in my kitchen. It hangs around behind the refrigerator, and Maddie just sits and waits patiently for the beastie to appear. I have to think it stays well hidden as Maddie would have sent the beastie to its heavenly reward by now. She is a good and patient mouser.

Most of Christmas is gone now. I have a pile of decorations which needs to be taken down the cellar then the pine tree will go last. It stays decorated and is covered by a plastic bag until next year when it will assume its rightful place in the dining room.

The house seems dark and bare. I have a few electric candles I light in the living room and some pepper lights in the kitchen, and they do help a little to scare away the darkness, but the tree was magnificent. I miss the bubble lights, the red peppers, Santa and his reindeer flying up the tree, the white lights in the middle like stars and all those colored lights. Maybe it should be a winter tree. Christmas time doesn’t last long enough.

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“Never trust anyone who has not brought a book with them.”

January 4, 2013

The sun is shining, but it is just a ruse to draw me outside where I’ll freeze to death. The day looks a bit hazy as if I need to spin the lens to sharpen the image. The dump was on my agenda, but it will be far too cold as the wind there is like a blast of Arctic air. Gracie loves the dump, but she stays warm in the car wearing her Pendleton blanket coat. My back is a bit iffy today so hauling trash may not be the best idea.

The books have been flying off my iPad shelf. I have been in a reading frenzy. My favorite so far is Mr. Penumbrum’s 24-Hour Bookstore. I’m not quite sure how to describe it. There are books and there is technology, advanced technology of all sorts. One of the characters works for Google; another creates boob simulation software for which there is a huge market. The main character works in the bookstore, and it is he who prompts the action, as such. He finds coded books on the top most shelf, books he wasn’t supposed to read, and then the quest begins to solve the codes. Kat, great name for a character by the way, is the one who works for Google. It is she who buys a New York Times but can’t figure out to operate it. You have to love that line but you bemoan it at the same time. Real books take center stage so to speak in this novel which sort of made reading it on my iPad an oxymoron. I don’t know what prompted me to get this book, but I’m really happy I did.

When I was in Ghana last summer, I read eleven books in three weeks. In the mornings I’d sit on the porch with my coffee and I’d read. At night, I’d lie in bed and read myself to sleep. Even when the electricity went out, I had my iPad and all the light I needed. When I was a volunteer there, I read at every opportunity, much the same as I did last summer. Without the distraction of a TV, reading and listening to music are the best ways to spend time. That was about the only thing that didn’t change over the forty years in between visits.

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“New Year’s Day is every man’s birthday.”

January 1, 2013

Today is cold but warmer than yesterday. I can hear drips from the roof falling onto the deck as the snow melts. The birds are back. Even before my coffee I went outside and refilled the large feeder. I still haven’t located the bird bath heaters, but I know if I buy another, I’ll find the first two. That is the law of averages for me. I met my friend for breakfast this morning. I noticed a few other spots were opened as well, not like Christmas morning when the world seemed deserted except for my diner.

I’m going to watch the Rose Parade this morning as I do every year. I love the floats and am always amazed at how beautiful they are and sometimes how imaginative and whimsical. When the announcers list what was used to create them, I can’t imagine standing there gluing mustard seeds or the other small natural ingredients used to decorate them. I can’t even make decent looking crepe paper flowers with pipe cleaner stems.

The most difficult chore of this new year is remembering to put the right year on my checks. The first couple usually end up needing correction. Luckily, though, most of my bills are paid on-line, and they can figure out the year.

I have an empty dance card for this year, at least so far. No trips are planned though my travel bug itches for one. The deck looks deserted with its covered furniture, stacked tubs filled with decorations to be hung from the branches and with candles, lots of candles, to light and hang from the trees. Summer is a long way off when the ground is covered with snow.

Today I’ll go down to visit my friends, and we’ll play some games and eat dinner together. That’s the best start to a new year.

 

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“Snow and adolescence are the only problems that disappear if you ignore them long enough.”

December 30, 2012

The snow started around 11 last night. The flakes were big and wet, the sort that doesn’t seem to have much future. I went to bed really late, around 2, and was awakened not long after by the beep beep of a plow backing up. By then I think there were only a couple of inches. Sometime during the night rain mixed with the snow. This morning I expected a winter wonderland; instead, the snow is pockmarked, crusty and hard. I had to beat the snow to get it off the back window and the trunk so I could bring in the dried dog food. The weatherman says sun later. It’ll take a lot of sun to melt the crusty snow still on my car windshield.

This first storm of the season was a bust though I suspect if it weren’t I’d be complaining about shoveling and extracting my car from behind the tall heaps left by the plow. I think I can just drive my car over the small mound in front of it. I know I don’t need to shovel as I walked out and got the papers without a problem. Looking out the front door is keeping Gracie entertained. My neighbor across the street is shoveling his driveway, a quick, easy task with so little snow. He just pushes his shovel down to the end then back up the driveway again. Voila! The driveway is cleared.

Birds have been swooping in and out of the feeders all morning. A couple have tried to drink from the bird bath, but it is frozen. I’ll have to go down to the cellar later to find the heater. Yesterday I filled every single feeder and put out the new ones I got for Christmas. The birds should be pleased with the variety and the plenty.

Yesterday I really didn’t do a whole lot. I finished The Panther by Nelson DeMille. I liked it enough, but 900 pages was daunting as the book didn’t read as quickly as the other DeMille’s I’ve enjoyed. I started a new book, Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore. My iBook is filled with lots of books to read so I’m happy! Winter is a great time to stay comfy curled up with a book; of course, summer on the deck is also a great time for reading. The breeze is cooling and a good book is enthralling. Then again, we can’t forget spring or fall. each of those seasons lend themselves to reading as well.

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“Between Ennui and Ecstasy unwinds our whole experience of time.”

December 29, 2012

Today is raw which was always my mother’s description for damp and cold. The sky is that grey-white color which means rain or snow or, in our case, a bit of both. The snow will start off-Cape tonight while we’ll get rain then the tail end of the snow storm will hit us and bring maybe an inch or two or even up to four.

I’m not going anywhere today. The outside world doesn’t look all that inviting. I do have to fill a couple of feeders, and I’ll put the new one out and maybe fold and bring up the clothes in the dryer but that last one is a long shot.

When I sit down to write Coffee, I am often at a loss as to what to say. Day-to-day, or at least my day-to-day, is so consistent it lends itself to ennui, to boredom. Didn’t she just write about that I imagine you’re thinking as you read about Gracie and the weather. Other days my mind is filled with all sorts of neat stuff. Some of it is imaginative, and it grows out of daydreaming or a TV program or a book I’m reading, and I share even though you might think it borders on the crazy, the very weird. Memories often fill my mind triggered by something I saw or even smelled. You have all been to Ghana with me so many times I wonder if you groan and say, “Not Ghana again!” On my sloth days you already know that I’ll be doing nothing except reading and eating the proverbial bon bons.

What brought all this on? Well, one of the blogs I have been reading for years, Letters from a Hill Farm, is closing down. Nan has decided, “To live my life without writing about my life.” That got me thinking. I have been writing Coffee since 2004, the year I retired. I wrote every day for several years then I started taking Wednesdays off, a sort of mid-week breather. After my coffee and papers every morning, I sit in front of the computer hoping I have something to say, something you’ll enjoy or remember or something you can relate to. Where am I going with this? Not away as I really like writing and I love my Coffee family. I just want to be reassured that on days like today when I have nothing to say you’ll still listen.

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