Archive for the ‘Musings’ category

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“My mom is a neverending song in my heart of comfort, happiness, and being. I may sometimes forget the words but I always remember the tune.”

May 13, 2012

Every year I post this tribute to my mother. I think about her and miss her every day and sometimes I find myself reaching for the phone to call her.

It is a warm, sunny day as Mother’s Day should be!

My mother had a generosity of spirit. She was funny and smart and the belle of every ball. She always had music going in the kitchen as she worked so she could sing along. She played Frank and Tony and Johnny and from her I learned the old songs. My mother drew all the relatives, and her house was filled. My cousins visited often. She was their favorite aunty. My mother loved to play Big Boggle, and we’d sit for hours at the kitchen table and play so many games we’d lose track of the time. Christmas was always amazing, and she passed this love to all of us. We traveled together, she and I, and my mother was game for anything. I remember Italy and my mother and me after dinner at the hotel bar where she’d enjoy her cognac. She never had it any other time, but we’re on vacation she said and anything goes. I talked to her just about every day, as did my sisters. I loved it when she came to visit. We’d shop, have dinner out then play games at night. I always waited on her when was here. I figured it was the least I could do.

My mother loved extreme weather shows, TV judges and crime. She never missed Judge Judy. She also liked quiz shows and she and I used to play Jeopardy together on the phone at night. She always had a crossword puzzle book with a pen inside on the table beside her chair, and I used to try and fill in some of the blanks. On the dining room table was often a jig saw puzzle, and we all stopped to add pieces on the way to the kitchen. My mother loved a good time.

She did get feisty, and I remember flying slippers aimed at my head when I was a kid. She expertly used mother’s guilt and, “I’ll do it myself,” was her favorite weapon. We sometimes drove her crazy, and she let us know, none too quietly.We never argued over politics. She kept her opinions close. We sometimes argued over other things, but the arguments never lasted long.

I still think to reach for the phone and call my mother when I see something interesting or have a question I know only she can answer. When I woke up this morning, my first thought was of her.

Happy Mother’s Day.

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“Adults are just obsolete children and the hell with them.”

May 11, 2012

Today is a pretty day. Out my window here by the desk, I can see the sun shining on the leaves of the giant oak tree, and the leaves shimmer each time even the slightest breeze moves them. Fern is sprawled on the rug in the sun where it streams through the front door. Grace is sitting on the deck watching the yard. Maddie is on the dining room table-her usual perch.

I have very little ambition. I do have one errand, but it will wait until later in the day. Gracie can come with me for the ride, and that will make her afternoon.

My favorite part of being a kid was having little or no responsibility. I had to go to school, and I had to do well but that last part was my compulsion, not my parents’ demand. They were casual about report cards. We kids were never planners. We’d decided in the moment what we wanted to do. List making was a long way in the future, except for those Christmas lists for Santa. I remember we’d say, “When I grow up,” not really understanding exactly what that meant. I just saw being grown-up as an ideal time when I could do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted.

What a shock I got when I did grow up. A job? I have to have a job? Car payments too? Rent, food, clothes-is there no end to the responsibilities of being a grown-up? Where’s the fun? Where’s doing what I want?

I did get to travel, but that grew out of my childhood dreams. Adulthood just gave me the means. Friday, the end of the work week, took Saturday’s place as my favorite day of the week. No more Saturday matinees: it was now chore day. Sunday was dump day and plan my lessons day. If I went out, it was usually Saturday night or maybe an occasional Friday happy hour, both literally and figuratively. I just compressed my adulthood into a single paragraph.

Now I am back to doing what I want when I want. Sometimes that means I want to do nothing. I’m figuring today is one of those days. I’m going to join Fern, Maddie and Gracie and just while away the day. I have a few books I’ve yet to read.

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“Dreams are necessary to life.”

May 10, 2012

The rain has finally stopped. It’s been two days, and it stopped only about a half hour ago. Yesterday I went to the dump and was the only car there. It was pouring. Everyone else was too smart to get soaken wet dumping trash. Even Gracie wouldn’t stick her head out the window. I didn’t grocery shop but picked up a few things to tide me over. I was far too wet and cold after the dump to go anywhere else.

I think the rain has dampened my mood. It’s a blah feeling a bit of sun could cure. Today I need to buy dog food and make a stop at the post office, neither of which will in any way brighten my day.

Last night I was strolling through the internet with no set address in mind. I found tree houses which I’d love in my yard. It would be my summer-house. I pictured a rope walk from the deck to my tree house which would be one big room with walls of windows and screen. I’d have a bed there, a bookcase and a table and chairs. That would be enough. Gracie and I would sleep among the trees all night long and listen to the night birds and to the peepers from the small pond at the end of the street.

I also found yurts, and I imagined mine among the trees in the backyard. That would be my winter escape. The walls would be covered in heavy, colorful rugs and cloth and all the furniture would be comfy with lots of cushions. There would be a wood stove right in the middle. The few windows would be glass to keep the cold at bay. The lights would shine among the trees. I’d be cozy and warm.

I am content with my lot in life and seldom ask for much; however, I do sometimes dream I’ve won the lottery. I never buy tickets as I’m not lucky that way, but I still dream. I’d have that tree house, maybe even a yurt tree house, and I’d travel some more. That would be more than enough.

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“I take care of my flowers and my cats. And enjoy food. And that’s living.”

May 8, 2012

We’re back to a chilly, damp day. Gracie is already sleeping on the couch, on the lower berth, the cushions, while  Fern has the upper berth, the top of the couch, for her nap. Yesterday I managed to buy a new tire for the car and new speakers for the computer. After I got the tire, I decided to meander and go down cape on Route 28 and sight-see a bit on my way to buy the speakers. During my wanderings, I happened to find a store I’d never seen before so I stopped to do a bit of shopping. Not a thing I bought is useful, but I figured I deserved everything. The last few days haven’t been memorable.

My peas are beginning to show a bit of greenery above the ground. I noticed them when I watered the new raised bed in the backyard yesterday. My herb garden has been around a long time, and I’ve always had tomatoes in pots on the deck, but the peas are my very first from seed vegetables. I felt like a real farmer of sorts when I saw the shoots yesterday.

I had an early morning meeting today, but that completes my entire schedule for the day though I really do need some groceries. I figure I’ll read, take a little nap then drag myself to Stop and Shop. Tomorrow is dump day. We couldn’t go Saturday or Sunday as I forgot to get the new sticker, and the dump is closed on Mondays and Tuesdays. Ah well, such is life.

I’m not complaining mind you, but every now and then I need to grouse. It keeps me on an even keel.

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“Don’t go into Mr. McGregor’s garden: your Father had an accident there; he was put in a pie by Mrs. McGregor.”

May 7, 2012

I feel a bit like the Black Knight in Monty Python and the Holy Grail only it’s the mechanical I’m losing, not my arms or legs. First it was the computer going haywire. Okay, I thought, I can work around that until I get it to the computer emergency room. Then the speaker wire died, frayed at the connection to the computer end, and now all is silent. Well, I figured I’ll just choose music I know well was my Pollyanna, the glad game response. Last night I went to go to the store and found I had a flat tire. AAA came and now my car has the donut until I can go to the station to have the tire checked. I walk on tenterhooks around my house leery and afraid of what could be next. My microwave makes unearthly sounds when I turn it on so that may well be on its last legs. It wouldn’t surprise me. Nothing much does any more.

Today is warm and beautiful. It is 63° with only the slightest breeze. The oak leaves are much larger now and are light green with a touch of red. I saw a couple of nests in the backyard so the birds have been busy spooning and building. Yesterday I saw a baby rabbit munching on my neighbor’s tulips. I’m betting its mother or father was the rabbit who stood outside the  backyard fence for the longest time just staring at Gracie who was so crazy to get that rabbit she kept trying to jump the fence. Maybe Gracie needs an Elmer Fudd hat and a rifle.

Polliwogs, frogs, grasshoppers and birds were the only wildlife I saw around my neighborhood while I was growing up. A rabbit would have been cause for excitement and a crowd of kids trying their best to be still and quiet to keep the rabbit around for a while. Yesterday I ran at the rabbit to scare it away. Now the rabbit is a nuisance who drives my dog crazy and eats my flowers. Adulthood brings such a different perspective.

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“Computers are like Old Testament gods; lots of rules and no mercy.”

May 6, 2012

Yesterday, poor Miss Gracie missed her dump run. I remembered the new stickers were in effect, which we didn’t have, so we were out of luck. She’ll just have to wait until Wednesday as the dump is closed Monday and Tuesday. Good thing I hadn’t loaded the truck yet!

We have SUN! The day is perfectly lovely though still a bit chilly at 55°, but the temperature doesn’t really matter much. It’s the sun shining so beautifully in the deep blue sky which takes center stage. Many of my neighbors were cleaning their gardens in anticipation of planting. My garden is all ready and soon enough I’ll be at the garden center filling my cart with this year’s plants and herbs. I can already taste the fresh basil!

If I could choose the ideal job, I’d be the person who sets up each leg of the Amazing Race. I’d get to travel to so many countries, meet all sorts of people, learn local traditions and have fun deciding the tasks, some of which are really gross while others take your breath away. Tonight are the last legs of the race, a two-hour program. I’m guessing during the first hour one team will be eliminated as there are still four remaining then the second hour will decide the winners. The cry baby lady drives me crazy. I’d have punched her a long time ago if I were her partner. It is like when I was a kid crying and my father would tell me to stop or he’d give me something to cry about. My favorite team, the guys from Kentucky, were eliminated last week. The remaining teams are among the least likeable I’ve ever seen. I sort of wish all of them would lose. The team with the pilot and the blond have won more legs but they carp at each other too much.

My speakers have bitten the dust. My computer is mute. I went hunting and found out it is really a frayed wire so I’ll try to get another one tomorrow; of course, while I was hunting for the wire, my printer ceased to be recognized and now I also have a cord without a home  and an HP adaptor connected to nothing.

My Prince Charming would be a computer superman who rings my doorbell, raises his crown in greeting and says, “I’m here to solve all your computer woes.”

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“I went to the museum where they had all the heads and arms from the statues that are in all the other museums.”

May 4, 2012

We’ll still in the damp, chilly day mode. It’s in the low 50’s and nothing outside my window looks inviting. Earlier, Gracie was frantically barking so I went outside to check. There it was, the rabbit, just sitting where Gracie could see it. That beast has been hanging around my yard for days and driving Gracie crazy. The dog keeps trying to jump the 6 foot fence, but she’s older now and far more muscular so when her paws reach the top of the fence, she can’t pull herself over any more. For that I’m thankful. As for the rabbit, I’m thinking a traditional paella.

I remember car rides with my family. My brother and I each had a back window, his behind my father, mine behind my mother, our sister Sheila was stuck between us, and Moe was in the front with my parents. Poor Sheila had to rest her feet on the big lump in the middle of the backseat floor. The car was always hot in the summer even with all the windows open. Back then, we never had sleek highways, but that was just fine with us. The roads my father took had stuff to look at. I remember seeing red barns and cows in the fields, and I’d yell and point so no one would miss them. The horses we’d see always seemed to have their heads down munching on grass. Once in a while we’d see a deer, and that was the most exciting of all. Usually the car was filled with suitcases and boxes of food as we headed to Maine for the week. We always went to Maine because my father’s friend had a cabin, and we could vacation cheaply. When I was young, I liked it there, but as I got older, I found it boring. By the time I was fourteen, I was begging my parents to leave me at home with friends. They never did.

My dad invented the staycation though he never received due credit. When I was young and money was especially tight, my father and mother planned something for us to do almost every day of my dad’s two-week vacation. We visited museums, went to the lake, the beach, zoos and into Boston to walk the Freedom Trail and ride on the swan boats. Once I remember going to Lexington and Concord. Those were my favorite vacations of all, and from them, I received the most wonderful gifts which have stayed with me all my life. I love museums and visit them everywhere I go. I can’t pass up a historical site and lots of times I stop the car to read the plaques on the rocks along the sides of the road.

On my first weekend in Accra, during training when we were in Koforidua, I went to the National Museum of Ghana. It seemed like the best place to start to learn about my new country.

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“All writers are vampires.”

May 3, 2012

The yard lights, two bottle trees and some tulip ground lights, were out last night so there I was around nine thirty trying to figure out why. I had my flashlight, but it wasn’t enough so I jumped up and down to get Gracie’s motion lights to react. They didn’t so I ran back and forth. The lights then came on so I could see to check the box holding the plugs, the timer and the extension cords. The plugs were fine so I came back in, got a lamp, plugged it into the outside socket and found it didn’t work. I knew then it was time to hit the circuit box. I came in, went down the cellar and pushed the levers back and forth, looked outside and found the lights were lit. I raised my arms in triumph, in a Rocky move; of course, there was a domino effect, and when I came back inside, I had to reset the CD player, the microwave and the old VHS player. I also realized the timer’s clock is probably wrong, but I decided it coukd wait. You’re probably wondering why I just didn’t wait until today for everything. Well, I love looking at those lights, sometimes from the deck and sometimes from the window, and they make shadows of tree branches and their trunks which seem to be nine feet tall stretching across the yard. They’re beautiful, and I didn’t want to miss even one night.

Today is dark and damp and cold at 49°. Yesterday I did errands so I get to lounge today. The book I’m reading is Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter. The title alone tells you it’s a strange one with limited appeal, but it appealed to me. I won’t tell you anything as I’d hate to be a spoiler. I figure I’m not the only one with varied, even odd, tastes in books.

As for me now, I’m almost ready for the afghan, the couch, my book and some music.

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“Home, the spot of earth supremely blest, A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest”

May 1, 2012

Happy May Day!

I remember the May Day parades through the streets of Moscow. The news would show the marching  troops stepping in unison and missile after missile being hauled through the city, all meant as signs of Russia’s military might. I also remember May poles with brightly colored ribbons and flowers. I always preferred the flowers.

It’s raining. I’ve got music playing which helps dispel the darkness of the day. It’s cold at 47°. My heat went on this morning so the house must have been really cold. Gracie went out for only a minute. She is not a lover of rain. The birds were here earlier but have since disappeared. I suspect they’ve found shelter.

I know every sound my house makes. I know which floor boards creak. I know the sound of heat roaring into rooms through registers. Gracie’s dog door makes a crinkly sound, and I usually have to figure out if she’s coming or going. The ice cubes falling into the tray make a plunking sound. The other morning, though, it took me a moment to recognize the water flowing through the pipes. It was the outside irrigation system, a spring-summer thing, and I needed to jog my memory. Sometimes I hear a strange sound, and it takes a while to figure it out. I walk around the house trying to find it. One time it was a mouse in a cabinet. Another time it was a giant bug hitting the inside part of the screen. I let the bug out. The mouse got away.

In the summer, with the windows open, I recognize which dogs are barking and which kids are outside playing. I know whose lawn is being mowed. I hear car doors shutting, sometimes one but more often two, and I figure a neighbor is just leaving or just coming home. I recognize every neighbor’s car and wonder why a strange car goes down my street.

Home fills all my senses.

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“Titles are but nicknames, and every nickname is a title.”

April 30, 2012

It’s a typical Cape Cod spring day at 50°, and I doubt it will get much warmer. It’s a pretty day with lots of sun and only a slight breeze. I slept in this morning which always makes me wonder if my neighbors think I’m lying unconscious on the floor as the paper is still in the driveway at ten o’clock. Even Gracie and Fern didn’t stir until I did and both are having their morning naps right now.

When I worked, I was up at 5 or 5:15 at the latest. My paper was seldom in the drive-way that early so I used to drink my coffee, read or watch the morning news. I’d get dressed at 6 and leave by 6:20 for my ten minute ride to work. The paper was usually delivered by then, and I’d throw it in the car to read when I got home which was usually around 4 o’clock. After thirty-three years of that, I earned sleeping-in.

A rooster was my alarm clock in Ghana. I never needed a real alarm. I went to bed early and woke up early. I had no newspaper to read so I’d sit on my front porch, drink my coffee and watch the small boys and girls walk by my house to their primary school just outside the front gate of my school. They’d stop to greet me. I was always sir, “Good morning, sir. How are you, sir?” The smallest of them were just learning English, and I figured sir was part of their dialogues. Madam would come later as that was what I was called in Ghana, Madam Ryan.

My titles have morphed over time. In Ghana, I was madam even to the women working in the market though sometimes a seller called me miss to draw my attention to her wares. “Miss, Miss,” I’d hear shouted at me as I walked by the stalls. When I got home and started teaching here, it was Miss Ryan to my students. As times changed so did my title. I became Ms. Ryan, but the miss was still around and used mostly by salespeople who didn’t know my name, “Thank you, miss.” they’d say as they handed me my bag. Now I am ma’am which is the shortened version of madam. It seems I have come full circle.

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