Archive for the ‘Musings’ category

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“I have a trunk containing continents.”

May 2, 2011

I never much mention the news. I figure we all get enough of it, but I was taken with the President’s speech formally acknowledging the death of Osama Bin Laden. I immediately had two reactions. One was gladness and relief, but the other was the memory of the Hydra. That last one  scares me.

Today is much like yesterday: warm in the sun and chilly in the shade. It’s a typical spring day on Cape Cod. Leaves have finally appeared on many of the trees, and they’re a light green like new leaves always are. Only the oak trees are far behind with their tiny buds. The birds sing every morning, and peepers are getting louder at night. The sights and sounds of summer are getting closer.

The world is so much smaller now. Hopping a plane is no big deal. People take it as a matter of fact. Gone are the suits and dresses of the old time travelers. Comfort is more important. I, who have traveled to so many places, still get excited no matter where I’m going. It’s the anticipation. I buy new clothes, read travel books, decide what I want to see and where I might stay, but I always leave room for the unexpected. That’s the best part of any trip.

I’m already excited about Ghana. I’ve bought my new clothes, have read travel books and been roaming on line. My friend Ralph said it will be so different and yet still the same. He’s right. In my memory are sights and smells I expect to meet again, and I can hardly wait until my first market day. I know Accra is enormous now, and Bolga is much bigger than it was, but the small villages and the family compounds appear to be the same. My mouth is watering in anticipation of my first taste of kelewele and of Guinea fowl covered in red pepper and wrapped in fresh Ghanaian bread. I wish my trip was tomorrow.

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“The world’s favorite season is the spring. All things seem possible in May.”

May 1, 2011

Happy May Day! Wherever you are, I hope the sun is shining and the sky is blue in celebration of the day. Here is a bit chilly but still lovely. I think Miss Gracie and I will take a ride later. A pretty day ought never to be wasted.

I remember making a May Basket out of construction paper during art class. We’d decorate the sides with flowers using our crayons. I always drew daisies. Either that or every flower no matter the kind came out looking like a daisy. Art was never my strong point. We’d cut a handle and glue it to the sides. The glue was in bottles and had rubber stoppers cut at the top. My fingers always got so gluey that the paper stuck to them. I remember a red basket I carefully carried home for my mother. On the way I picked dandelions to fill the basket. I always had to hold my basket by the bottom as the handle was delicate and was barely held to the sides by the glue. I always knew my basket was a work of art.

When I was in Ghana, I made all my cards except for Christmas cards. Those I could buy. They had Ghanaian scenes and were hand painted by the art teacher. The cards I made for the other holidays were on white paper folded like little books. I’d cut pictures from magazines and glue them to the pages. The pictures were meaningful to the recipient and me. Little sayings were written on each page. My mother saved a Father’s Day card I had sent and gave it to me. It must have taken me hours to find exactly the right pictures. They too were glued. Luckily I had learned the gluing skill in elementary school.

My tulips have opened. Some are red; others are multi-colored. They highlight the garden. This morning I stood and surveyed the front yard as I do many mornings. The birds were singing, the sun was warm and the garden looked lovely. I would stayed a while more, but I knew my freshly brewed coffee was probably ready and I had my papers. It was time for Sunday rituals.

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“Memory is the diary that we all carry about with us”

April 30, 2011

We have clouds again, and it’s chillier than it has been, but today is perfectly still, not a branch is moving. The day will feel warmer. In the front garden, tulips have bloomed and more of them have budded but are still shut so tightly I can’t tell what colors they are. I thought the squirrels, those spawns of Satan, had eaten all the bulbs just after they were planted as I remember the holes in the garden where I suspected the tulip bulbs had been planted. I was happily surprised to see how many have survived. My lawn is high, time for mowing high.

I still have an iron. It was a house warming gift 34 years ago when I bought my house, and I actually used it. I’d wait until I had several blouses needing ironing then I’d set up the board in here and watch TV as I ironed. I used a spray bottle on the pesky wrinkles and spray starch on the linens. I have no idea the last time I used it, but its time is coming. For my August trip, I bought some new clothes which need touching up so I’m going to haul the board out of the cellar and fire up that iron. In Ghana, I didn’t do my laundry-I paid for it to be done. It was hand washed in a bucket then ironed. The iron was black metal, tall and had a v shape. Under its cover, the inside was empty so it could be  filled with charcoal to produce the heat. I figured it was probably just like the ones pioneers used on all those petticoats. The charcoal iron worked as perfectly as my electric one did. It just took longer to get hot. I never wore anything wrinkled, even with hand wringing and a bucket.

I haven’t thought about that iron in years. I find it especially amazing when one memory leads to uncovering another long hidden in the nooks and crannies of what I call my memory drawers.

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“Now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts.”

April 29, 2011

Last night it rained over an inch and lightning added to the drama. My fastest wiper cycle could barely keep up with the deluge. It was slow going for a while. The rain then tapered off a bit until I got in my front yard then the heavens opened again. I got soaked running to the front door. Today is warm and both cloudy and sunny. Right now the day is bright but soon enough the sun will disappear behind a cloud.

I got up at five to watch the wedding. I love parades and pageantry and wouldn’t miss the chance to see it all. I sat with my coffee and my scones to watch the arrivals at Westminster and I marveled at the women’s hats. Some could have come directly from a Star Trek episode while others were perfectly understated. The Abbey was lovely with trees and flowers. The boy’s choir with the added men’s voices was nearly divine. The TV hosts identified people as they arrived and kept showing the hoards of spectators lining the streets and waving flags. The horses with their uniformed guards were magnificent. The service was fairly short and almost informal. I didn’t know a single hymn. Kate’s dress was perfect and William looked dashing. My favorite parts to watch, though, were the carriage rides back to Buckingham Palace with all the bells pealing. I thought of Cinderella at the ball and every princess fairytale I’ve ever read. The bride and groom were beaming and waving. The crowds then surged and surrounded the fence outside the palace waiting for the royal family to emerge on the balcony. When they did, even the queen looked at ease. Everyone was waiting for the first kiss. There were two.

By 9:00, I was back in bed and slept until 11.

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“I washed a sock. Then I put it in the dryer. When I took it out, it was gone.”

April 28, 2011

Rain again today, but it is a warm day and brighter than it’s been. A wind advisory is in effect, and my bird feeders are swaying as are the tops of the huge pine trees. A cardinal has been by a few times checking my front lawn for worms. Yesterday, two robins joined him. Gracie and I will be out in a bit as we have a couple of errands today, mostly animal food. Tonight is trivia.

My dryer turned on but wouldn’t tumble yesterday. Nothing makes me feel as helpless as when an appliance won’t work. I tried the button a few more times hoping for a miracle but got nothing. I called Albert, my appliance fixer, and he came at 9:02 this morning. He did say between 9 and 11. It was a broken hose and was fixed in about ten minutes. I had visions of buying a new dryer as my first thought is always drastic. I figure most appliances have a built in point of death and this dryer has been around a while. Maybe the hose is just a reminder that appliances aren’t built to last and have their own mortality.

Every homeowner has a herd of fixers. I have a great plumber named Warren who always apologizes for his bill. I called him once when my toilet wouldn’t stop running. He checked it out and told me to follow him outside while he got the part. We walked along the side of the street and he picked up a stone or maybe a rock. (I don’t know when size changes one to the other.) He used the stone inside the toilet to make the plug fall, and it worked. The toilet stopped running. My electrician, Shane, is a former student and a long time friend. I hate to call him as he never charges me enough but he does the best work and has great suggestions. Skip is my factotum, and I already have a huge list of jobs for him, a day’s worth. He does just about everything: carpentry, painting, shoveling, plowing and any general fixer-upper stuff. He is a great worker and meticulous. I also have a landscaper and I have cleaning people who come very other week. All I’m missing is a cook and a downstairs maid. I figure I can make do without an upstairs maid.

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“There is nothing like staying at home for real comfort.”

April 26, 2011

Today I am behind my time as I had an early meeting in Falmouth. It was about the Peace Corps and the Cape Cod group celebrating the fiftieth here. The festivities will be while I’m in Ghana, but I’m glad to know there will be a celebration.

I’ll let you guess the weather today. If you said cloudy-you win. It isn’t raining but it is a possibility later today and tomorrow. It is 60°, warm, even without the sun. This has been such a wet month here, even more than usual. My flowers love it. I found two tulips in the front garden in the bud stage. The spawn of Satan missed them last fall. I can’t wait until they bloom. I consider them precious survivors from the al fresco dining of those squirrels.

I really haven’t much to say today. I did wish I’d brought my camera with me this morning as I saw several places worth the stop for a picture. I seldom get over to that side of the cape even though it really isn’t all that far away. I have developed a bit of a isolationist syndrome. Even Hyannis sometimes seems too far off for the trip. Everything I need is right at hand or just a short drive away. I find it easier to travel far, far away by plane than drive to Hyannis. With summer coming, I’ll even be more reluctant to go anywhere.

Well, I have a couple of books from the library I want to start and I’m thinking an iced coffee might taste just perfect right now so I’m done!

.

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“C is for Cookie, that’s good enough for me.”

April 25, 2011

Yesterday was an Easter gift. Today we’re back to a sun-less day with white gray skies, but it is still warm at 56° so I have a few upstairs windows open. I awoke this morning to the sounds of birds. I can’t think of a more delightful way to greet the day.

Dinner was spectacular yesterday. We sat in the bar waiting for our table and from the windows we could see only water making us feel as if we were on an Easter cruise. Our dinner table was in the main dining room by a window where we could see the shells and sand. We watched the tide come in along the break-way. We toasted the day. It deserved recognition.

Mondays have a stigma attached. I don’t have to drag myself out of bed any more, but Mondays still have nothing redeemable. Friday used to be my favorite day, but now I have no favorites. I like them all except Monday. I don’t even have much energy today, but I do need to get out for a few things, the in-between stuff I run out of before a massive grocery run. I need bread.

The day after Easter meant a half eaten bunny in my basket. I ate the small stuff, the jelly beans and hard eggs, but I left the bunny until last. He was always the star.

I have a special fondness for sugar cookies, and for most big holidays my mother would make batches of them. I remember waiting and waiting until they were cool enough so I could eat one, unfrosted. I remember the bottoms of the cookies were always a light brown, and when I first made my own, that’s what I looked for when I checked to see  if they done. For Easter my mother made eggs and rabbits. Sometimes we’d help decorate. The rabbits were just white, but it was the eggs which brought out our creativity. We’d try and frost them with designs and lots of colors. I was never very good with the decorator bag. More frosting got on me than the cookies, but it really never mattered how they looked. They always tasted just right.

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“Easter spells out beauty, the rare beauty of new life.”

April 24, 2011

Today is glorious, filled with sun, warmth and the songs of birds. Not a branch stirs in the stillness of the day. Earlier, I sneaked down the street to my friends’ house, added decorations to their egg tree from last year, new glass birds, and left their Easter baskets. Well, I didn’t really leave them, the Easter Bunny did. I just helped a little. My street is just so quiet that Gracie and I saw no one on our little jaunt.

From my window here, I can see bright yellow goldfinches at the feeders. Their color seems to celebrate the joy of spring and the arrival of Easter. Today is just so beautiful.

Happy Easter!

We always went to mass early on Easter. We’d don our new clothes, my mother would snap a few pictures and off we’d go. It was agony to leave our baskets behind, but we’d sneak a few jelly beans in pockets or purses. The jelly beans of my day were huge, and they all tasted the same no matter the color. We didn’t mind. I’m not even sure we noticed. The highlight of every basket was the giant chocolate bunny standing in the middle. I was an ears first eater. The straw was always green plastic, and the bunny once I’d gnawed on it would sometimes have grass stuck to it. We carried those baskets all around with us until it was time to leave for my grandparents’ house. My mother was one of eight children, only two of whom still lived at home, so on the big holidays my grandmother’s house was filled. Cousins were plentiful. My grandmother always had Easter treats for each of us so we felt the loss of our baskets less keenly. On the really nice days, encouraged by parents who decided we needed air, we’d sit outside on the stoop always careful not to get stains on our new clothes. We’d stay all afternoon.

I swear that all the Easters dawned bright and sunny and warm. I know that’s not true, but that’s how I remember them.

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“Here comes Peter Cottontail right down the bunny trail…”

April 23, 2011

Today is gray and rainy. When I went to get the newspapers, it was misting. The temperature is only45°. I really don’t want much, only a warm, sunny day. I’ll even take just one. The birds haven’t dropped by to visit though the feeders are filled. I did see a red spawn of Satan sitting in one of my feeders. I scared it away though I know it will be back.

Easter Eve was never like Christmas Eve. The Easter Bunny always played second fiddle to Santa Claus. We did spend today, the Saturday before Easter, coloring eggs. We used wax and wrote our names on some of them before dipping them into the dye. I still remember the egg holder in the refrigerator was lined with colored hard boiled eggs after Easter. It was always kind of neat to eat one. The big excitement for Easter was always new clothes. We wore uniforms to school so we didn’t need too many dresses or skirts and new clothes were an infrequent treat. I always thought the best part of the new clothes was they weren’t presents. I hated getting clothes for Christmas. I always figured they were taking the place of some neat toy or game.

Our baskets were on the kitchen table though I think I remember a few years when they were left by the Easter Bunny on our bureaus. My mother always made them up herself. A huge chocolate rabbit was always front and center. Jelly beans were strewn all through the plastic grass which clung to everything. There were multi-colored hard eggs which had a hard white center. Wrapped chocolate eggs were also hidden in the grass. Coloring books, new crayons, wooden paddles with a red ball on an elastic, a stuffed animal and other small toys were also in the basket. We’d check out our baskets then head right to the candy. The ears were always the first to go.

I’d go to my parents’ house every Easter, and I always made each of them a basket. It had their favorite candy and whatever neat little things I could find. My dad always got a word search book and my mother got a crossword puzzle book. I used to sneak into their room and leave the baskets on their bureaus. They never once caught the Easter Bunny!

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“There is hope if people will begin to awaken that spiritual part of themselves, that heartfelt knowledge that we are caretakers of this planet.”

April 22, 2011

The weather tries my patience. A sunny day gives me a spring in my step (couldn’t help myself with that one) and hopes of sitting on the deck with my eyes closed and my faced warm with sun, but that was yesterday. Today is cloudy though the weather predicted otherwise. I imagine somewhere else has my sunny day, and I’m not too happy about it.

Last night we had dinner at Captain Frosty’s which opens every spring. Our first dinner there always makes us feel as if spring is officially here despite the cold or the rain. I had fish and chips, and we shared onion rings, the thin ones which are mostly onion, not batter. The place was crowded with people standing around hoping for a table. They looked a bit like vultures as they sized up the booths to see how close the diners were to being finished. Our seats never got a change to get cold.

This morning after I got the papers I stood a while out front looking at the garden right next to my house. It is filled with flowers from bulbs I planted last fall. I didn’t know which bulb was planted where so I was surprised and pleased when the flowers bloomed. Their colors are rich and bright. The yellows are my favorites. I know their beauty will prompt more and more bulbs this fall.

Today makes me want to stay home and do nothing except read and maybe nap. One day a week a lethargy overtakes me, and I never fight it. It comes after a couple of frenzied days of chores and errands. I always think of it as a reward.

Today is Earth Day. I have always believed that you leave a place better than you found it, but that doesn’t seem to be the case with our planet. We deplete more and more resources, our wild animals and sea creatures become endangered when their habitats disappear or they’re hunted to near extinction. I recycle everything I can, but I still leave a huge carbon footprint as I live alone. I wear a sweatshirt in the winter and only keep the lamp in this room lit at night though my palm tree too is always lit, but it doesn’t matter. I use more resources than I should.

In Africa everything is recycled. My sandals were resoled using tire treads. My rice was wrapped in the Sunday New York Times while large leaves provided the wrapping for meat and other such goods. Everything I bought, except margarine and evaporated milk, was produced locally. I came home well intentioned knowing how little I really need. That got lost over the years. It’s time I remembered.

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