Archive for the ‘Musings’ category
November 20, 2012
It was not a hallucination. I swear when I first woke up this morning there was sun. I smiled, turned over, went back to sleep and missed it. By the time I woke up for good, it was gone; however, these familiar clouds have proverbial silver linings. On the weather last night we were fifteen degrees warmer than Boston and Southern New Hampshire. The weatherman said it was a combination of the warmer ocean and the cloud effect so I have stopped complaining about the lack of sunlight. I’ll just take more vitamin D than usual.
With Thanksgiving being an American holiday we still had to teach when I was in Ghana, but that didn’t stop us from honoring the day. We had a huge Thanksgiving dinner one year with several guests, one turkey, a few chickens, side dishes and pies. The owner of the turkey was a hard bargainer and Thomas, the cook, had to follow the man all the way to his village before he’d sell the turkey. When I was in Bolga last summer, I was amazed by the number of turkeys wandering around. In my two years living there I saw only that one which ended up being the showcase of our feast. The chickens you bought live, still do. You get to pick yours like we pick lobsters from the tank. The man hands you the chicken by its bound feet. I used to hang them from the arms of my moto (motorcycle) to get them home. Someone else always sent the chickens to their heavenly reward. I never could. The year of the giant feast we plucked the chickens. All of them, already having met their demise, were brought to us in a huge bucket. All of a sudden a few of them popped right out of the bucket onto the ground. No, they didn’t run around without their heads. They just popped. I knew scientifically why that had happened but it was still sort of amazing in its own weird way.
That was the year I made my very first pies ever, pawpaw pies. I made the dough, cut up the pawpaws and then added sugar and cinnamon. The cookbook Peace Corps had given us, Ghana Chop (chop being food), said that pawpaw pie would taste just like apple when you added the spices. I brought the two pies to the school’s beehive, clay oven. The cooks put them on the side of the oven away from the intense heat of the middle, but they still took only about 15 or 20 minutes to cook. They were delicious and they tasted exactly like apple pies.
That Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorites.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Chicken, cloud effect, couds, Ghana, Peace Corps, sun, Thanksgiving dinner, warm ocean
Comments: 7 Comments
November 19, 2012
The weather? Cloudy again, and I’m disgruntled. I don’t think asking for a couple of days in a row of sun is an outlandish request. It should be compensation for days in the 40’s. I’d be happy with that.
Today Gracie is seven years old, but it didn’t start out to be a happy birthday. She was sick with an upset stomach. I had to clean up when I came downstairs this morning. Knowing a remedy, I took Gracie out front where there is a patch of grass she always nibbles on when we’re going to the car. She grazed and mowed down all the rest of the blades. I also gave her a couple of fronds from the spider plant. Right now she is sleeping beside me on the couch and snoring. I know she feels better because she enjoyed a piece of cheese and some of her dry food before taking her morning nap. We’re going for a ride later just to celebrate the big day!
Yesterday I made cookies and caused what my sisters would call a Kathleen moment. The cookie sheets were leaning against the back of a tall stool. When I pulled them up, I knocked the unopened 5 pound bag of flour on the floor. It upended the dog’s water dish and water went all over. I grabbed the flour and managed to keep it dry then I tried to clean up the water on the floor. In the process I overturned another dog dish which I didn’t realize had water in it from the first dish. Now the water was spread all over. I finally sopped up the small lake then washed the dog’s food mat and all her dishes. I put the flour in a container. All of that happened before I even started on the cookies. Good thing the cookies tasted so great: chewy coconut lime cookies. I brought them down to my friends for our regular Sunday evening. We have appetizers and dessert, play a few games of Phase 10 and Sorry then watch The Amazing Race together. It’s a great Sunday tradition.
Today is a nothing day. I do have one necessary stop then no other plans. My bed will stay unmade. The clothes will remain in the dryer one more day. The cabinet won’t get organized. I am ambition-less.
Categories: Musings
Tags: baking cookies, birthdays, cloudy days, fiascos, Flour, Gracie, messes, Water
Comments: 10 Comments
November 19, 2012
The weather? Cloudy again, and I’m disgruntled. I don’t think asking for a couple of days in a row of sun is an outlandish request. It should be compensation for days in the 40’s. I’d be happy with that.
Today Gracie is seven years old, but it didn’t start out to be a happy birthday. She was sick with an upset stomach. I had to clean up when I came downstairs this morning. Knowing a remedy, I took Gracie out front where there is a patch of grass she always nibbles on when we’re going to the car. She grazed and mowed down all the rest of the blades. I also gave her a couple of fronds from the spider plant. Right now she is sleeping beside me on the couch and snoring. I know she feels better because she enjoyed a piece of cheese and some of her dry food before taking her morning nap. We’re going for a ride later just to celebrate the big day!
Yesterday I made cookies and caused what my sisters would call a Kathleen moment. The cookie sheets were leaning against the back of a tall stool. When I pulled them up, I knocked the unopened 5 pound bag of flour on the floor. It upended the dog’s water dish and water went all over. I grabbed the flour and managed to keep it dry then I tried to clean up the water on the floor. In the process I overturned another dog dish which I didn’t realize had water in it from the first dish. Now the water was spread all over. I finally sopped up the small lake then washed the dog’s food mat and all her dishes. I put the flour in a container. All of that happened before I even started on the cookies. Good thing the cookies tasted so great: chewy coconut lime cookies. I brought them down to my friends for our regular Sunday evening. We have appetizers and dessert, play a few games of Phase 10 and Sorry then watch The Amazing Race together. It’s a great Sunday tradition.
Today is a nothing day. I do have one necessary stop then no other plans. My bed will stay unmade. The clothes will remain in the dryer one more day. The cabinet won’t get organized. I am ambition-less.
Categories: Musings
Tags: baking cookies, birthdays, cloudy days, fiascos, Flour, Gracie, messes, Water
Comments: 10 Comments
November 18, 2012
When I went to get the papers, I gasped a bit for breath not expecting it to be so cold. Frost had iced the lawn and covered the car windows. I hurried back inside, had my first cup of coffee and settled in for a while to read a bit of the paper, but I couldn’t linger as I had to leave earlier than usual to go out for breakfast, even before my second cup of coffee, so I could scrape the car windows. I rummaged through the trunk and found the windshield scraper then went from window to window. I even scraped the window for Gracie. I hated every minute of scraping those windows not because of the effort but because of the significance. That frost is winter’s first assault.
On the way home I noticed lawns being raked mostly by men wearing warm jackets. A few joggers were out running, and they were wearing mittens. One woman, walking her dog, didn’t seem at all phased by the weather. She had on a long sleeve t-shirt and shorts. I was impressed by her hardiness.
The day is pretty with bright sun and a steel-blue sky, but the strong breeze blowing the leaves left on the trees has me thinking the day looks far better from inside rather than outside. When Gracie goes out and stays a while, her ears are really cold when she comes back inside.
When I was young, we never did much on a Sunday. After church we’d hang around the house and maybe watch a TV movie while my mother prepared then cooked dinner, and sometimes we’d sit or lie on the living room rug to play a few games while my father read the paper. He always sat in the same chair by the picture window, and I can still see him holding the paper in front of him. My father read his paper not as a whole but section by section. He’d finish one section then add it to the pile he’d started on the floor beside the chair then he’d pick up the next section and start reading. He always left the sports pages until last.
I read the Sunday papers much like my father did, section by section, and I put each finished section in the recycle bag I keep by the table here in the den. The one difference is in the last section to be read. I always save the travel pages.
Categories: Musings
Tags: cold, cold weather, coming winter, frost, Gracie, jogger, Sunday, Sunday paper, Wind, window scraper
Comments: 13 Comments
November 18, 2012
When I went to get the papers, I gasped a bit for breath not expecting it to be so cold. Frost had iced the lawn and covered the car windows. I hurried back inside, had my first cup of coffee and settled in for a while to read a bit of the paper, but I couldn’t linger as I had to leave earlier than usual to go out for breakfast, even before my second cup of coffee, so I could scrape the car windows. I rummaged through the trunk and found the windshield scraper then went from window to window. I even scraped the window for Gracie. I hated every minute of scraping those windows not because of the effort but because of the significance. That frost is winter’s first assault.
On the way home I noticed lawns being raked mostly by men wearing warm jackets. A few joggers were out running, and they were wearing mittens. One woman, walking her dog, didn’t seem at all phased by the weather. She had on a long sleeve t-shirt and shorts. I was impressed by her hardiness.
The day is pretty with bright sun and a steel-blue sky, but the strong breeze blowing the leaves left on the trees has me thinking the day looks far better from inside rather than outside. When Gracie goes out and stays a while, her ears are really cold when she comes back inside.
When I was young, we never did much on a Sunday. After church we’d hang around the house and maybe watch a TV movie while my mother prepared then cooked dinner, and sometimes we’d sit or lie on the living room rug to play a few games while my father read the paper. He always sat in the same chair by the picture window, and I can still see him holding the paper in front of him. My father read his paper not as a whole but section by section. He’d finish one section then add it to the pile he’d started on the floor beside the chair then he’d pick up the next section and start reading. He always left the sports pages until last.
I read the Sunday papers much like my father did, section by section, and I put each finished section in the recycle bag I keep by the table here in the den. The one difference is in the last section to be read. I always save the travel pages.
Categories: Musings
Tags: cold, cold weather, coming winter, frost, Gracie, jogger, Sunday, Sunday paper, Wind, window scraper
Comments: 13 Comments
November 17, 2012
No question about the day: it’s a late fall day, a pre-winter sort of day when the air is cold, the sun is shining providing light but no heat and the sky is a brilliant blue, the sort of blue which only comes in the clear air of a cold day. The leaves still left on the trees in the backyard are brown. I look outside and it is uninviting, even with the sun. I’ll venture out later to fill the feeders and pick up some paper towels Gracie stole from the trash bag on the kitchen floor. She is quite particular about what she takes and she always sneaks out the dog door with her treasures. I’ve yet to catch her in the act.
I’m watching the worst movie, a 1940 film called Out West with the Peppers, a sequel to The Five Little Peppers and How They Grew which I watched a few weeks ago. I chose it over a syfy channel film about a creature which lives on light and energy, a creature which looks a lot like the crawling roots of a tree. I read a few books from The Five Little Peppers’ series when I was young. I got the first book for Christmas one year so I figure it’s a bit of nostalgia which has me watching.
I have nothing planned for the day except the usual: make the bed, take a shower and get dressed in sloppy comfortable clothes. I’m thinking I might even fold and bring up the laundry which has been sitting in the dryer for a few days. There’s also a cabinet which could use some organizing so that goes on the possibility list. That’s about all I can come up with for now. I figure it’s enough.
Categories: Musings
Tags: fall day, Five Little Peppers, Gracie, milestones, syfi channel
Comments: 13 Comments
November 16, 2012
Today is the same as yesterday: cloudy and damp. I have no place I need to go so I’m staying home and finishing my book. I will loll about and eat bonbons.
The grocery shopping is done. I maneuvered around the carts in the middle of the aisle, waited at the register while the man in front of me chatted with the cashier after he had already paid and then I hauled almost everything into the house. This morning I brought in the rest: a carton of Diet Coke, some cat litter and laundry detergent. It seems strange to open the fridge and see it filled.
Sad news: Hostess is closing up shop. No more Hostess cupcakes or Ding Dongs, the treats of my childhood. I still remember the thrill and surprise when I’d open my lunch box and find a package of Hostess cupcakes for dessert. I always used the same method to eat them. First I’d peel off the frosting then I’d eat the cupcake and work my way to the cream center. When I was finished with the cream, I’d eat the frosting, the chocolate frosting with the white swirl across the middle. I loved those cupcakes. Hostess will sell its wares until they’re gone and will make no more. The cupcakes will go the way of Hydrox, Bolster Bars and all the candy made by Schrafft’s.
In the paper this morning, the news was, as usual, dreary. I was surprised to read that Mr. Romney had shot himself in the foot again as I didn’t think he had any parts of his feet left to shoot. It’s the if man bites dog aphorism that defines what gets printed. Don’t look for good news, but when I got to the sports page, I had my only laugh. Coach Belichick of the Patriots was his usual chatty self at a press conference. When asked about expectations for the new player, Talib, who’s just coming off a drug suspension, Belichick, a noted oratorian, answered, ” Any player that we bring here, we feel confident in bringing here or we wouldn’t bring him here.” Talib said he and his new coach had not discussed off-field problems, “We kind of just talked straight football. He didn’t bring up the past. I didn’t bring up the past. He didn’t bring up the future. I didn’t bring up the future.” That must have been one heck of a conversation!
Categories: Musings
Tags: Belichick, cold and damp weather, cupcakes, football Patriots, grocery shopping, Hostess, man bites dog, Romney
Comments: 31 Comments
November 15, 2012
The house is dark; outside is uninviting. It is an ugly, raw day with a cloud-filled sky. The yard got cleaned this morning, and the guys let Gracie escape through the back gate. They opened it without checking, and off she went. It was a catch me if you can game. Gracie would stop and wait until one of the guys got close then she’d run, stop to wait then run again. Finally I called my friend at the end of the street, and she went right to him.
I still haven’t grocery shopped yet, but today I must as the last of the dry cat food was used to fill their dish this morning. The wash, though, got done yesterday, but it is sitting in the dryer. I’ll get to it sometime.
I remember laundry stiff from the cold hanging on the lines. My mother would brave the weather, bring in the still damp laundry and hang it in the cellar so it would dry. She always hung up her laundry in the same way. Shirts were clothes-pinned to the line by their bottom edges and one shirt was attached to the next so three clothespins hung up two shirts. It was the same with sheets though she’d double those over the line. I don’t remember us having anything but white sheets back then. The clothespins were wooden. My mother would slide the clothespin bag along the line as she hung the clothes. She’d have a clothespin in her hand and one sticking out of her mouth, and then she’d maneuver being careful not to drop the clothes. It was like sleight of hand to hang and pin. My mother was a master.
No one around here hangs clothes anymore. The house next door, a summer rental, has a clothesline hanging between two pine trees, but I only see towels and bathing suits on it. My sister uses her clothesline in the warmer months. It saves money and the clothes, especially the sheets, smell wonderful.
I still remember getting into a bed freshly made with sheets smelling of the sun. It is one of my favorite sense memories, that smell. It is right up there with burning leaves. When I first moved here I had a clothesline, but my allergies didn’t take well to the pine pollen so I had to buy a dryer. I’m still sorry about that.
Categories: Musings
Tags: clothes line, Clothespin, dryer, Drying, Gracie, Laundry, pine trees
Comments: 15 Comments
November 13, 2012
The sky got black almost as quickly as in a science fiction movie just before the aliens arrive, but the rain came instead; it fell in torrents. Gracie stayed in the car while I was at my library board meeting, and I had left a window open for her. I don’t think she was thankful. The inside door and the seat were soaked, but Gracie, being both smart and practical, had moved over to the dry side. On the drive home, I splashed through flooded streets and had to be careful about hydroplaning. Right now the day has an eerie light, but it has stopped raining for the meantime. Gracie is resting from her ordeal.
Today is my errand day and I have only finished two of five, but the rain just started again, not so perfect for grocery shopping. How sad that makes me.
I have never been a hat person. My mother sometimes forced one on me at Easter, a hat in a pastel, usually pink or blue, with small flowers. I always felt a bit self-conscious. I’d put up my hood on the coldest days when I walked to school, but I seldom wore a real hat. On rainy days my hair got wet. I remember my mother trying to make me wear one of those silly transparent hats which tie under the chin and fold up to fit into a small pouch. I always thought of them as old lady hats kept by them in oversize purses in case of rain emergencies. I have earmuffs, and I don’t mind wearing them. I have a couple of baseball hats which I actually wear at baseball games to keep the sun at bay. When I lived in Ghana, I had a straw hat I wore for a bit, but I felt like Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm so I stopped wearing it. My neighbor across the street always wears a similar hat when she works in the garden. She looks a bit like Ma Kettle working the farm.
I have a hat collection. That always makes me chuckle a bit at the irony.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Clothing, earmuffs, Easter, Ghana, Gracie, hats, rain, Straw hat
Comments: 21 Comments
November 12, 2012
Today I am an advocate of brevity. It will be a short post with nothing earth-shaking, witty or thought-provoking. The reason is simple: the day is gorgeous, warm and lovely. When I went to get the papers, I stayed outside for the longest time and struggled to force myself back into the house. I really wanted to get my keys, jump into the car, put the windows down and go wandering; of course, I’d have gotten Miss Grace to be my companion for the trip. She appreciates a nice day and a good ride.
A load of laundry sits in the downstairs hall waiting to go to the cellar to be washed. It will wait a long time. I stripped my bed this morning and haven’t yet made it and won’t before I leave. For some strange reason, I think leaving the mattress bare is the house equivalent of wearing the dirty underwear our mothers always warned us about, but I’ll take the risk.
Tomorrow I have designated errand day. I have a slew of them. I, of course, am assuming that a bunch of errands is called a slew though I wouldn’t be averse to using a murder of errands. The crows won’t mind sharing. I have already showered so all I need do is brush my teeth, get dressed and go.
Enjoy your day. I will most assuredly enjoy mine!
Categories: Musings
Tags: beautiful day, clean underwear, fun day, Laundry, ride, slew of errands
Comments: 6 Comments
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