Archive for the ‘Musings’ category

” Man is a gaming animal. He must always be trying to get the better in something or other.”

March 9, 2012

The day is cloudy but bright. It looks as if the sun will be making an appearance sometime later. It is 41°, cooler than the last few days but seasonal for March. The wind blew all day and all night. I was lucky my deck glass table top didn’t break because the wind toppled the umbrella which then took the table along with it. I didn’t expect that to happen as the umbrella is through a hole in the center of the table so the wind was a mighty wind. Today is calm; nothing is moving.

 The Globe mentioned that Rex Trailer of Boomtown fame, a local program we all grew up watching and can probably still sing the theme to, has been designated the state’s official cowboy. At first I thought it a bit strange that this state would have a cowboy, a state fisherman maybe, but not a cowboy then I gave it some thought. Every Saturday morning Rex Trailer did it all: rode his horse Goldrush, played the guitar and sang cowboy songs, did the best rope tricks and once, in 1961, rode a covered wagon from Greenfield to Boston, a distance of 94 miles, to raise awareness about children with disabilities. He made us all want to be cowboys. I would have given anything to be on Boomtown, maybe even be made sheriff for the day. 

I grew up with television. I doubt there were many days in my life when I didn’t watch something. The Mickey Mouse Club was a program I never missed when I was a kid. As I grew older, my interests changed, and I watched shows like Dark Shadows and Bandstand and so many more. It wasn’t until Ghana that I had to do without TV. There wasn’t a single set in my town. Reception never got that far north. We learned to entertain ourselves.

 Bill and Peg, my friends and next door neighbors, were also PC volunteers. Most nights we got together, listened to music and played a game. One game was the alphabet game. The letters went down the page in a line in order from A to Z then we’d find a sentence and put one letter of each word next to the alphabet letter. If you had A with a B next to it, you’d have to find a well-known name with those initials like Aaron Burr and then you did the same for all the letters. One of my fondest memories of this game is Bill’s choices. It was often a name neither one of us, Peg and I, had ever heard before. Bill always said the guy was a football player. We voted against him every time.

My mother had sent me a Password game. We played it so much we had just about memorized every card. Unsuspecting company would play against us. We never lost. Despite the absurdity of our clues, we always guessed the right word.

The red ball attached by an elastic to a paddle was our favorite. We’d go into the back courtyard and challenge each other. Our eye hand coordination was really bad at first then we got spectacular. I can’t imagine what our neighbor thought when he heard us from the yard counting in unison: one, two and sometimes all the way up to over 200. When the elastic broke, it broke our hearts.

Games are still a huge part of my life. My friends and I always play a game when we’re together. Phase 10 and Sorry are our current favorites. We keep track of the winners of each game, and we always make fun of the loser. I won’t quote any of the responses the loser usually gives. This blog is Rated G.

“A great wind is blowing, and that gives you either imagination or a headache.”

March 8, 2012

The wind is so strong Gracie and I heard a crash and rushed to find the source. My umbrella had been blown down, and it banged as it hit the deck rail. Come to find out there is a wind advisory, and the winds could be as strong as 55 MPH. I decided my umbrella is probably safest where it is.

Already it is 56° which is almost tropical for this time of year. The sun is bright and the sky perfectly blue. If there were no wind, it would be a lovely deck day, but the wind is so strong the tops of the pine trees are swaying left and right. The bird feeders are swaying like carnival rides, but the birds act as if nothing is happening. The gold finches are back, and the males’ chests are brighter. Yesterday I had a house finch and today a flicker. 

I keep stopping to look out the window when I hear the wind. The wild, swooshing sound makes me feel a bit like Dorothy arriving at the house just before the tornado hit. I won’t be surprised to find my yard littered with pine branches. The pine are delicate trees.

I remember walking to or from school when it was windy. We’d face the wind, raise our arms to our sides and let the wind take us. It would go up our sleeves and make our jackets billow. I always felt as if I were flying. We’d laugh the whole time.

When I was young, the weather was rarely a topic of conversation. Snow was all we cared about as it carried the prospect of a snow day. Rain was disappointing as we couldn’t go out and play unless it was a light summer rain. After the rain, though, was always the most fun. Puddles meant slamming your foot in the water and splashing yourself and anyone near you. The wetter we got, the more fun we had. Our feet would slosh in our sneakers and bubbles would come up by our toes. We never cared. Sneakers always dried.

Adulthood has its privileges but much is lost. Puddles are to be avoided. Wet shoes and mud oozing between your toes stop being fun. I never walk bare-footed any more. Sandals are about as close as I get. I’m thinking it’s time again to feel the softness of the grass and the warmth of a puddle left by the summer rain.

“…Indulge in monumental sulks, in huffs, in snide remarks.”

March 6, 2012

Today is cold, 29° cold. When I look out my window, I can almost feel the wind blowing up my sleeves the way it sometimes did when I walked to school.

Okay, I hate to admit it, but I lost my whole entry. Even if I say so myself, it was a good one. I swear I hit publish but the post disappeared and isn’t in the trash. All I found was the small bit above. Usually I preview but not today. Isn’t that just the way!

I beg your pardon for leaving you with so little, but I am discouraged, and my muse has stormed off in a huff, and I don’t blame her. I’m feeling huffy myself!

“…Indulge in monumental sulks, in huffs, in snide remarks.”

March 6, 2012

Today is cold, 29° cold. When I look out my window, I can almost feel the wind blowing up my sleeves the way it sometimes did when I walked to school.

Okay, I hate to admit it, but I lost my whole entry. Even if I say so myself, it was a good one. I swear I hit publish but the post disappeared and isn’t in the trash. All I found was the small bit above. Usually I preview but not today. Isn’t that just the way!

I beg your pardon for leaving you with so little, but I am discouraged, and my muse has stormed off in a huff, and I don’t blame her. I’m feeling huffy myself!

“Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience.”

March 5, 2012

Sorry for the lateness of the hour, but I had my yearly physical this morning, the last of my scheduled yearly or semi-yearly appointments. I have now crossed off three doctors and a dentist. All that’s left is to schedule my eye appointment.

When I was a kid, I only saw the doctor if something happened or I was really sick which was seldom. My parents were of the generation which didn’t see doctors for well visits. My mother was sick one Christmas in Colorado and my sister dragged her screaming to the doctor who said she had pneumonia. That was her first visit to a doctor since my sister had been born over forty years before that. I have a stable of doctors, or at least that’s what I call them, as several parts of my body have their own specialists. It seems the older I get the bigger the stable.

It is cold today but sunny, and the sun is warm. My car was hot when I left the doctor’s office. A wind is swaying the tops of the pine trees and blowing the dead leaves hanging off the branches, but I think I’d call it a pretty day if anyone asked.

When I set up an appointment for next year’s physical, the receptionist asked if I had any preference for a day. I said no. I didn’t tell her they’re all the same to me, that they are my days to do what I want. She asked if morning was okay. I said no. Once a week I set my alarm to meet my friend for breakfast at nine, and I don’t fancy setting it for any other day. My alarm clock is battery run, and I only put in the battery when I need to use the clock so the battery and clock sit idly on my bureau. I don’t even wear a watch though I did bring one to Ghana last year which is funny when I think of it. Ghana runs on its own clock. The time is arbitrary. Meet me at nine means nothing of the sort to a Ghanaian. It really means meet me whenever. The buses run by the Ghanaian state transport leave on time, but they only go to major stops. The other buses which go from town to town and village to village leave when they are filled. That sometimes means waiting hours.

I am by nature impatient, but I became patient when I lived in Ghana. After I got home, the patience wore off. Last summer it came back, and it was one of the favorite parts of my trip: remembering that life isn’t a whirlwind. Things will get done. You just have to be patient.

“I’d rather be a little weird than all boring.”

March 4, 2012

Weather: ditto!

Nothing on my mind today. No memories pop up and I have no new revelations about the world at large. Today will be the shortest musings in Coffee history.

Last night it rained as the sides of the street were still damp when I woke up. I’ve lost count of the string of rainy days. Noah probably had the same issue. He must have stood at the front of the ark after having fed the animals and mucked the stalls yet again and wondered when it would all end. At least I don’t muck.

That it is March already is amazing. The year is whizzing by me. I’m still waiting for winter and here it is almost spring. The garden catalogs are coming in, and, with Christer’s help, I’m going to order some different flowers for my side garden. I love flower shopping.

The other night was rainy and in the mid-30’s, and we all moaned and groaned about the cold. We have been spoiled.

My animals are all asleep. They sleep all night, get up with me, do a bit of business, snack a bit then sleep again. They have great lives.

I bought a new pair of wool clogs last week. That is quite unusual for me. I seldom buy clothes or shoes being quite content with what I have. This time, though, I had no choice. When I was walking out of a restaurant, the sole of my shoe stayed behind on the rug. I picked it up and brought it with me, hoping it would mend, but I decided that the hole in the toe of the shoe combined with a missing sole was cause enough for a new pair. Last summer I bought some new sandals, light-weight pants and shirts for my trip. For this summer’s trip, I’ll buy new underwear which would have pleased my mother immensely.

Well, I’m done!

“Joy is the feeling of grinning inside.”

March 2, 2012

Rain maybe later tonight, but for now it has stopped. Last night the rain had an icy feel about it, and being outside felt miserable. Today is brighter with white clouds, and I’ll take it and be glad.

Gracie and I will hit the dump later today, one of her all time favorite trips. The trunk is already filled, and I just have to find the ambition.

When I was a kid, the simplest things gave me joy. I loved walking through the piles of leaves beside the sidewalk. I’d kick the piles using one foot then the other and the leaves would fly through the air to the left and the right of me. Behind me, I’d leave a trail of leaves on the sidewalk and the street.

Riding my bike down a gigantic hill always made me feel as if I would take flight. My hair would fly in the wind propelled by the speed, and my grin would get broader and broader as I went faster and faster.

Lying on my back in the coolness of the grass on a summer’s night was the best way to watch the evening’s light show courtesy of the stars and the brightness of the night sky. I could see the Milky Way filled with its blanket of stars, and if I were really lucky, I’d see a falling star and make a wish.

The days and nights were filled with the sounds of insects. At night I’d fall asleep to the chirping of the katydid though I didn’t know its name back then, and I never asked. I just loved the music. During the day it was the grasshoppers in the deep meadow grass below my house. They’d jump as I walked through the grass, and sometimes I’d catch them in my bare hands then just let them go.

Fireflies are still magical to me. I used to imagine they were fairies that looked a bit like Tinker Bell. Even now when I see one, I follow it with my eyes until it flies away out of my sight. We used to catch them and put them in a jar and just watch the lights glow for a while then we’d set them free.

I have time again to see my world more slowly and I find myself awed by the simple things, the same way as when I was a kid. The night sky gives me pause, and I stand and look at the stars and still hope to see a falling star so I can make a wish. I sit outside during the meteor showers and find myself oohing out loud at their beauty. I love to watch the snow fall at night lit by my backdoor light. The birds in the morning are my favorite singers. They give joy to the start of my day. I love to sit outside at night and listen to the insects, the frogs at the small pond and singing of the night birds. My life is filled with joy.

 

“There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”

March 1, 2012

A late start for me today as I slept in until quite late. The rain continues. It started early yesterday and hasn’t stopped since. Gracie has yet to go outside. She detests the rain though I did notice she now goes under the deck near the stairs to do her business when I force her out. Animals are ingenious.

No birds are at the feeders. They too must be hunkered down somewhere away from the rain. The other day the birds swooped in non-stop at all three feeders. I just added a new suet feeder, but I can’t see it from here so I’ll move it after the rain stops. The feeder holds two bars of suet but it is a bit strange as the bird has to be upside down. I was assured by the man at the store that the birds don’t mind.

I never stop to think that I am in my 60’s. That has so little meaning to me. In my mind, I still think of myself as young. I know some of you will argue that 64 is still young, and I agree, but I remember thinking how old my parents were when they were in their 60’s. My dad passed away at 66, and I’m still a bit angry at all the time we missed together. 66 is far too young. I was reminded of that when I read that Davy Jones was 66 when he died yesterday. I figure he should have had at least another 15 or 20 years.

I am definitely far slower than I used to be, and my knees hurt. My mind has selective memory lapses. The other night I couldn’t remember the name of the star of The Closer and my friend Clare couldn’t either. We had to look up Kyra Sedgwick on the computer. When my sister told me my niece and her husband had decided on Declan for their baby’s name, a baby due in a few months, I told her right away that Declan was Elvis Costello’s real name. Why in the heck did I remember that and not Kyra?

When I wake up in the morning, I sometimes have to stretch to get all my parts working in sync, but I figure that’s okay. The joy of living far outweighs the aches and pains of getting older.

“Autumn arrives in the early morning, but spring at the close of a winter day.”

February 28, 2012

Pseudo winter is the best I can call this. Today it is already 46° though tonight will be more typically winter, in the 20’s, but I don’t care. Night always finds me cozy and warm and at home. The weatherman says snow later in the week and predicts the cape will get less than an inch before the snow turns to rain. Boston may get more snow than we will but right now it may also have a new record for the least amount of snow as little more than 7 inches has fallen so far this whole winter, but March sometimes surprises us with a snow storm or two.

My garden is awash with green shoots, and the daffodil buds are prominent: there are four now. Last fall I planted all sorts of bulbs, and I don’t remember what is where on purpose. I want surprise when the flowers bloom and color returns to my garden.

Spring officially arrives on March 20th, and that is cause for celebration. My friends and I will go to the beach to see the sunrise on that first spring morning. Usually it is freezing. We sit in our beach chairs as if it were summer, but we wear winter hats and coats and wrap blankets around us as we wait and watch for the sky to lighten. The first beams appear then the top of the sun. We watch as more and more of the sun appears over the jetty. When morning has finally broken, we applaud and give a welcome to spring then we run for the warmth of the car. We go out for breakfast and toast the arrival of spring.

My mother was always surprised and wonderfully grateful when we gave her our bouquets, the dandelions picked off the lawn. She’d gush a bit, take our gifts and put them in a glass, usually a jelly glass, and then in the center of the table. We always thought they were the most beautiful yellow flowers ever, and I still think of that every time I see a dandelion. In my memory they are gifts.

“The pack slumbered and only a few watchdogs rattled their chains.”

February 27, 2012

Winter has left the building. We’re back to 43° today, but a bit of a cold breeze reminds me I live near the ocean. I love that breeze all summer, but I dread it this time of year.

The deck is my favorite summer spot, but I wish I had a porch which would be lovely and warm today. Both Gracie and I could nap there.

Last night I watched from the red carpet to the end of the Academy Awards. My friend Clare and I rated all the dresses and wondered what some women were thinking when they donned some really ugly dresses. It’s a good thing I don’t work greeting people on the red carpet as I suspect, “Why did you pick that really ugly dress?” would not be a welcomed question. How about, “Do you know that dress is a bit dowdy?” Nope, I’d lose my job quickly. I don’t gush.

Last night 4 cars on my street were vandalized, one worse than the others. They used some sort of cream, like hand cream, to cover my neighbor’s car then left some cream on a couple of others as well as mine but in only a few spots. We figured they were running our after covering my neighbor’s vehicle. All that happened between 5:30 and 11:30. All of us have dogs, but none of them barked though I told everyone Gracie did, but I have no idea if she really did as I wasn’t home to hear her. We laughed and commented that my friends’ dog barks at air but not vandals. We wondered if  Cody, who lives in the house with the car most covered, barked and was told to go back to sleep. Another neighbor has sensor lights which are quite sensitive, but none of us saw them lit. We were too busy watching TV, and my neighbor’s TV is in the back of their house so they couldn’t see the lights come on in the front. I figured those lights lit up the area to give the vandals a better view.

Maybe we all need signs on our lawns which say: Be Quiet! Dogs sleeping! My neighbors can add one which says: Walk a bit. The lights will come on should you need them.