Archive for the ‘Musings’ category

« Keep the Coffee Comimg home page
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »

“Only he that has traveled the road knows where the holes are deep”

October 19, 2012

When I woke up, I looked out my bedroom window and saw a grey day and the possibility of rain. The breeze was strong enough to sway branches. I let Gracie out and followed her onto the deck. I was surprised by how warm it was.

Today I am going to New Hampshire for the weekend. Last night I wrote out my list of what I need. Because Gracie is coming with me, I also did a dog list. It is longer than mine. I don’t know if I’ll be able to post this weekend, but I am bringing my trusty Mac in hopes that I can. Please check!

When I came downstairs this morning, I noticed a plant had fallen off the windowsill. Pieces of pottery, both chunks and shards, and dirt were strewn in the hall and about the tile floor. It must have made a lot of noise when it fell. I heard nothing. I slept right through it. I also think Gracie slept through it. I’d like to think her ears are discriminatory, and she knew there was no danger. After all, she does bark at the UPS man. Of course, on a day when I have stuff to finish before I hit the road, a plant must fall though fall is too gentle to describe the event. The pot must smash. The dirt must be strewn about, wet dirt as the plants got watered yesterday, dirt which settles in the grooves of the tile floor necessitating an on my hands and knees cleaning, all before my first cup of coffee. I was reminded of the number one travel adage: nothing goes as planned.

I have my directions and a pretty good idea of where I’m going to a certain point. My sister heard the directions and reminded me the route is near the mall. That’s all I needed. Travel adage number two: roads are identified by their stores, not their numbers.

This is Gracie’s first overnight. I’d like to think I’ve covered all the contingencies: bells for the door so I know when she wants out, plenty of food, her halter so no slipping out of the collar and treats galore. I just hope travel adage number three never happens: expect the unexpected!

Categories: Musings
Tags: , , , , , ,

Comments: 21 Comments

“I discovered windows one afternoon and after that, nothing was ever the same.”

October 18, 2012

In the den, where I spend so much time, is the window to my world. From that window I can see a part of the deck and the backyard. At night the lights on the topiary in the corner of the deck and the lights in the back yard on the bottle tree easily draw my eyes. Both brighten the darkness. During the morning, especially this time of morning, I can see the sun shining through the leaves of the oak tree. In the summer the whole tree seems to sparkle in the light. Now, the lower branches closest to the deck are in shadow. The sun has changed position.

I am a window person. When I travel, I take pictures of windows. Mostly I take pictures from inside looking out and imagine the people who lived there looking out those same windows. In some places, the views have changed over time but in other places the views are exactly the same. I remember the view from the window on the landing in Dickens’ house. I imagined him stopping for just a moment to look out that window as he was going down the stairs, and I was thrilled to think I was standing where Dickens used to stand. Some Inca and I shared the same view from a house in Macchu Picchu. At Versailles I figured the king might have watched from the front window where I stood.

Doors have never interested me. It is the transparency of windows which draws me. I look out and watch the snow fall. I hear and see the rain as it pelts the glass. My garden in the summer is an array of colors, and I can admire it from the front windows. Doors keep the world away. Windows draw us in and sometimes draw us out.

Categories: Musings
Tags: , , , , , ,

Comments: 22 Comments

“I often think that the night is more alive and more richly colored than the day.”

October 16, 2012

Around 1:30 last night (although I suppose it should be early this morning) I was roaming around the house unable to fall asleep so Gracie and I went outside for a while. It was a misty, warm night. When Gracie went down to the backyard, she triggered her sensor lights so I joined her. She roamed while I picked up and piled a few fallen branches and emptied the bird bath. One house had lights on, but it always does no matter the time of night, but the other houses were dark. I went about my yard cleaning then came back inside. It was well after 2 before I went to bed. By then I could hear the rain: the gentle mist was gone.

Today is sunny and warmer than predicted. It’s the sort of day which makes me glad I’m not working, not staring out the window and wishing I could sit in the sun. Happily, the day is mine to do with as I choose, no wishes necessary.

Nothing in today’s papers made me glad, except maybe the comics.

Two of my friends are coming to dinner. I missed their birthdays in September so tonight we’ll celebrate. Their brightly wrapped gifts are ready to be opened, and I have my shopping list for the grocery store, one of a few errands I have to do before tonight. We’re having sausage shepherd’s pie, a favorite of mine they haven’t ever had. I figure some crusty bread will perfectly complete the meal. I’m thinking a round loaf.

With the storm doors up and almost all the windows closed, the house is quiet. Gracie is sleeping on the couch beside me, and she is lightly snoring, and every now and then she sighs; they are the only sounds I can hear. The window in my bedroom facing the backyard is still open, and last night I fell asleep to the sounds of the night birds and the rain. How wonderful that was.

Categories: Musings
Tags: , , ,

Comments: 9 Comments

“I didn’t know that the world could be so mind-blowingly beautiful.”

October 15, 2012

The day is perfectly beautiful; it’s so warm and sunny I have “unbattened” down the hatches and opened windows. I feel as if  sitting inside is wasting the day so I keep going out to the deck and just standing there to enjoy the warmth before the rain starts or it gets cold though I don’t know if either is predicted. Weather just changes so quickly this time of year. It rained last night. I never heard it. The only way I knew we had rain was the wet street.

Yesterday it rained during the ceremony. Fewer people were there than expected, but the hardy ones came anyway armed with umbrellas and wearing rain gear. I was a fashion statement, a fashion statement for Ghana anyway. A reporter from the Cape Times took my picture and interviewed me. She asked what were some of the difficulties of living in Ghana. I came up with a lack of cole slaw. She also asked about Peace Corps, and I said it was the most remarkable experience, an unequaled experience. She wanted to know about what I was wearing. I swear it was the matching hat which caught her eye!

I’m going out and about today. I have an appointment at noon then I can roam. I have no set destination, but I’ll stop if something catches my eye. Back roads are favorites of mine. I like to go places I’ve never been. You can never get lost on the Cape. When you hit the ocean, just go in the opposite direction. Almost any road will lead to a main road as there are so few of those. Figuring out where you are is usually easy.

On The Amazing Race last night they were in Bangil, Indonesian, and it was beautiful, strikingly beautiful. I immediately put it on my wish list of place to visit. I haven’t ever been to Asian so I’m figuring it might be, in a year or two, my next destination. That will give me time to plan the trip and save enough money.

I love my life, but for this, I wish I were wealthy. I could just pack a bag, book a trip and leave.

Categories: Musings
Tags: , , , , ,

Comments: 16 Comments

“Pithy sentences are like sharp nails which force truth upon our memory.”

October 14, 2012

My alarm woke me up. I had set it to give myself enough time to write Coffee before I head out to this morning’s RPCV event: as in Returned Peace Corps Volunteer. We are dedicating an engraved stone at site 7 of the JFK legacy trail in Hyannis. The stone commemorates 50 years of Peace Corps, and site 7 honors the Peace Corps. Luckily the rain fell last night. The morning is gray and damp but fairly warm. I’m going to wear a fugu, a smock I brought back from Ghana last year. I even have a matching hat. No woman dares venture out on a Sunday without her matching hat!

Yesterday I bit the bullet and went grocery shopping. It was late afternoon. I had chosen the time well. The aisles were nearly empty, and I was able to step right up to the register. My disappointment was I had nothing to complain about: no baskets in the middle of the aisle and no long lines. What is this world coming to?

One of the places I don’t spend a lot of time is a hardware store. It is my destination only when I need something specific. In most stores I like to roam the aisles in case something catches my eye, and even though I didn’t know I needed it, I end up wanting it. That the wanting has yet to happen in a hardware store. The aisles of screws and bolts and chains of all sizes don’t catch my eye. I go right by them. The electrical aisle is just as uninteresting. I usually only want an outside extension cord, and I just ignore the rest. The other aisles are jam-packed, and I can’t tell you what they are jammed packed with. I have no idea. The screws are in the back as are the nails. The electrical aisle is on the left about three aisles up. Keys are made up front. Other than those areas, I have no idea what treasures my hardware store holds. Ask me about Trader Joe’s and I can close my eyes and describe each aisle. Cheese is in the case on the right side wall toward the back; my favorite frozen pizzas, the ones with the Gruyère cheese, are are in a small case halfway down the frozen food aisle. If you obey traffic rules, the case is on the right as you travel up the aisle. I suggest you buy two of those pizzas.

Categories: Musings
Tags: , , , , , , ,

Comments: 17 Comments

“Autumn is marching on: even the scarecrows are wearing dead leaves.”

October 13, 2012

Today is cold. It was 45˚ when I woke up, but I didn’t need to see the thermometer to know how cold it was. Fern and Gracie, my weather indicators, were snuggled beside me. None of us wanted to leave the warm bed.

I just heard one of the sounds of summer, my lawn being mowed. I went outside afterwards to water some mums and could only faintly smell the cut grass. Summer is fading away quickly. The sun shines sharper and much cooler. We’re thankful now for fall flowers and days in the low 60’s. They’re the warm days.

The cape is never a riot of color in the autumn. The scrub oak turn red. I have several in my yard, and the red has begun to appear. One tree in my yard turns yellow, but only a few of the leaves have turned. It is not peak season in my yard as yet.

When I was young, the gutters along the sides of the streets were filled with leaves. The leaves were piled so high they covered the edges of the sidewalks. We used to love to walk to school in the gutters kicking up leaves as we walked. They’d whirl in the breeze and scatter into the street. Sometimes we’d pick up a pile of leaves and throw them at each other. We’d try to be the quickest at tossing them, but it always seemed a tie. Leaves got stuck in our hair, but we didn’t care. We’d always end up laughing for the fun of it.

On the way home we’d stop whenever we saw the perfect leaf. Usually it was bright red or yellow. We’d pick it up and carry it carefully by the stem or put it inside a book. At home, we’d quickly get into our play clothes. My mother would bring out the iron and put it on a low setting. We’d take wax paper and our leaves and carefully sandwich the leaves between two pieces of the wax paper then we’d iron over them, the leaves and the paper. The wax would preserve the leaves, and they became our permanent reminders of the bright colors of fall. In the winter, when everything was stark and cold, those leaves reminded us of warmer days, of the beauty of the season and the fun of throwing leaves at each other.

Categories: Musings
Tags: , , , , , , ,

Comments: 13 Comments

“The odds of going to the store for a loaf of bread and coming out with only a loaf of bread are three billion to one.”

October 12, 2012

Today was an unexpected sleep in late day. I won’t even admit what time it was when I finally crawled out of bed. Because I had no cream, the dog and I, as soon as we came downstairs, went to Dunkin’ Donuts to buy my morning coffee. Good thing they have a drive-up as I didn’t even bother to get dressed.

As soon as the sun goes down, it gets cold now, a lingering cold, the sort you know is here to stay. Tonight is supposed to be in the 30’s, yup, I said the 30’s. This morning, during my jaunt, the sun was out, but it has since disappeared and has left us with a gray, ugly day, the sort of day which invites coziness and a good book, but, alas, I do have to go out to get the cream for my coffee.

My mailbox will soon disappear. Everyday the pole on which it sits sinks further into the ground weighed down by the   catalogs my mailman has to deliver day in and day out, but, luckily, this is a rural route so Bob, my mailman, has a truck which is a good thing as I figure most of his route, maybe even much of the world, is being inundated by catalogs. Yesterday there were twelve catalogs in my mailbox. Three of them had threats, “This is your last catalog unless you order;” however, I am undaunted by these threats. Go ahead, stop my catalogs. I dare you!!

I admit some catalogs make me salivate. William Sonoma and Crate and Barrel are two of them. I also love Napa Style and VivaTerra. I look through each of them and make a mental list of what I’d buy if I had money and room for all the purchases. I even turn down the corners of the pages so I can go back and be tempted.

Back when we were kids we only needed one catalog, the king of catalogs: the Sears Catalog. It had everything anyone ever needed. I always thought it had a bit of magic about it. From its toys pages came our lists for Santa, including catalog numbers so Santa would have no doubt exactly what we wanted. We looked through those pages so many times they got wrinkled and dirty, but we still looked over and over again. Maybe we’d changed our minds or just maybe we might have missed something the first ten or twelve times we looked through those pages.

 

Categories: Musings
Tags: , , , ,

Comments: 19 Comments

“Do the unexpected. Take 20 minutes out of your day, do what young people all over the world are dying to do: vote.”

October 11, 2012

Earlier this morning, Fern and Gracie vied for the prime spot on the mat in the sun by the front door. Gracie beat out Miss Fern, but the wily cat found her own spot where the sun shined through the glass onto the floor. I don’t need a thermometer. I have the two of them letting me know the house is cold.

Caller ID saves me. The number of political calls is outrageous, but I don’t answer. The robo-callers tried to disguise themselves by phoning from everywhere: California, Connecticut, New Hampshire and Washington, state that is, but I’m not deceived by their duplicity. Most of the calls seem to tout Scott Brown for the senate. The calls don’t endear him to my heart.

I was excited when I could vote for the first time. I turned twenty-one in late summer before my senior year in college and immediately registered at the town hall as an independent, a designation I still have. I needed an absentee ballot to vote during my first election, the Nixon versus Humphrey one, as I was at school. When the ballot came in the mail, I didn’t ponder at all. I knew right away who would get that historic vote. It was Hubert Humphrey.

I love to vote and seldom miss even the smallest of elections. I vote in presidential years, off-years and in my town elections for the selectman, the school committee and the other offices small towns always seem to have. It amazes me when people proudly declare they never vote. I consider voting an obligation of citizenry. Most times local questions or state referendums are also on the ballot so not liking any candidates is only an excuse, not a reason, for staying away from the voting booth.

I vote at the police station where I can count on one thing every time I go to vote: someone will have set up a bake sale, usually for a school club or a sport at the local middle school. Not only do I exercise my franchise, but I also get cookies, usually peanut butter or chocolate chip, more good reasons to vote.

Categories: Musings
Tags: , , , , , ,

Comments: 21 Comments

“Do the unexpected. Take 20 minutes out of your day, do what young people all over the world are dying to do: vote.”

October 11, 2012

Earlier this morning, Fern and Gracie vied for the prime spot on the mat in the sun by the front door. Gracie beat out Miss Fern, but the wily cat found her own spot where the sun shined through the glass onto the floor. I don’t need a thermometer. I have the two of them letting me know the house is cold.

Caller ID saves me. The number of political calls is outrageous, but I don’t answer. The robo-callers tried to disguise themselves by phoning from everywhere: California, Connecticut, New Hampshire and Washington, state that is, but I’m not deceived by their duplicity. Most of the calls seem to tout Scott Brown for the senate. The calls don’t endear him to my heart.

I was excited when I could vote for the first time. I turned twenty-one in late summer before my senior year in college and immediately registered at the town hall as an independent, a designation I still have. I needed an absentee ballot to vote during my first election, the Nixon versus Humphrey one, as I was at school. When the ballot came in the mail, I didn’t ponder at all. I knew right away who would get that historic vote. It was Hubert Humphrey.

I love to vote and seldom miss even the smallest of elections. I vote in presidential years, off-years and in my town elections for the selectman, the school committee and the other offices small towns always seem to have. It amazes me when people proudly declare they never vote. I consider voting an obligation of citizenry. Most times local questions or state referendums are also on the ballot so not liking any candidates is only an excuse, not a reason, for staying away from the voting booth.

I vote at the police station where I can count on one thing every time I go to vote: someone will have set up a bake sale, usually for a school club or a sport at the local middle school. Not only do I exercise my franchise, but I also get cookies, usually peanut butter or chocolate chip, more good reasons to vote.

Categories: Musings
Tags: , , , , , ,

Comments: 21 Comments

“In quiet places, reason abounds”

October 9, 2012

Today is socks and sweatshirt weather. It rained again last night into this morning, and the day is bone chillingly damp. I had a library board meeting this morning, and I turned on the heat in the car: the first time this fall.

We’ve had days and days of dark skies and periodic rain. The temperature has dropped to the 50’s during the day and the 40’s at night. I figure this is a shoulder season: the time between the beauty of autumn and the cold of early winter. The blanket was welcome warmth on my bed last night as were Fern and Gracie huddled beside me.

Sunny, warm days are delights and give the birds reason to sing. Squirrels, the spawns of Satan, are active and jump from branch to branch and run across the top of the gate. The chipmunk who lives under my lawn scurries in the sun. Gracie sleeps on the deck. The cats sprawl in the sunlight streaming through the doors. I sit outside, read and take in those days, but they’ve been gone for a while. The warmth has been replaced by cold, rainy damp days. which are cause for staying inside, staying warm. I had to turn on the lamp as the house is so dark. It’s also quiet. Gracie’s snoring is the only sound I can hear.

I haven’t much ambition. Yesterday all my chores were completed except for the laundry which I’ll finish today, but then I’ll do nothing else. I have no list. As soon as I finish here, I’m going upstairs to take off my outside clothes and put on my cozy clothes. I’ll come back downstairs and let the afternoon unfold as it will.

Categories: Musings
Tags: , , , , ,

Comments: 19 Comments

« Older Entries
Newer Entries »