Archive for the ‘Musings’ category

“Why? Why, why, why do I do this???”

January 27, 2011

Today has not had some of my finest hours. We got maybe 3″ or 4″ of snow. Because it was so little, my plowman didn’t come. I figured I could use my broom the same as I did last time. Twice I have been locked out of the house because the storm door wouldn’t open. It was stuck at the latch. My neighbor was good enough each time to jump the back fence and let me in. Ever since then I’ve shut the front door and left the storm door slightly opened, and it has worked well until today. I forgot to check my front door-it was locked, and I was stuck outside yet again. My neighbor wasn’t home so I had to figure a way inside the back door. There is no gate to the yard which I am now regretting. My deck man said he’d make one in the spring but that is small consolation. I have lattice on the rail of the back stairs. I managed to get one piece off then I tried to climb onto the deck. Mind you, my leg is aching from the dump run and from sweeping so it wasn’t cooperative. I managed to get my good leg on the deck near the rail but I just couldn’t lift my bad leg up far enough so I could go over the rail. I tried four or five different configurations and none worked. Finally I went to another neighbor to borrow a step ladder. She sent her husband with the ladder as she said I wasn’t climbing. We opened the step ladder, but he couldn’t quite get his leg over the rail as the ladder was too short. I helped and over went his leg then I helped and over went the other leg. He let me in. At least it was a different neighbor this time.

We have sun and blue skies today. I’ll take like as a consolation for the morning.

“No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.”

January 26, 2011

Batten down the hatches. Snow is coming. It will start this afternoon and continue into tomorrow. We here on the Cape might not get as many inches as it could mix with rain. I have a few things to do before the snow comes. The bird feeders need filling. I’m out of bread and coke so a quick stop at the grocery store is in order, and my trunk is filled for a dump run. Sadly, today looks just like yesterday, gray and bleak. Winter is tiresome and snow has lost its wonder.

I remember when every snowstorm was a gift. Sometimes we got a day off, and that was the best of all because we got to spend the day sledding, and nothing was more fun than sledding. We all had wooden sleds, and the first few runs down the hill left red trails as the snow cleared the rust of summer. At the top of the hill, we’d grab our sleds and run as fast as we could then we’d jump on our sleds. Legs below the knees were in the air so they wouldn’t hamper our speed but they were the best brakes. The snow crunched as the blades ran through it. We’d hold on to the front of the sleds so we could steer. It was always a race to the bottom and to whose sled went the farthest. My sled had a rope attached so I could pull it back up the hill. I remember the rope used to freeze. My friends and I would walk together and talk mostly about the snow and our sleds. The hill was a street, and it was huge and long. Snow plows back then always seemed to leave enough snow for sleds. We’d spend the entire day speeding down the hill then walking back up. Sheer exhaustion finally sent us inside. The sleds were left standing straight up in a pile of snow.

Nothing beat the joy of flying down that hill.

“Being is like pretending.”

January 25, 2011

I apologize for missing yesterday, but I had an appointment, needed to do a bit of shopping, and when I got home, I finished some stuff around the house, like changing the cat litter. By the time I was done, my leg was pretty painful and I just wanted to take something, lie down with the offensive limb under the covers and have a nap. It helped.

This morning we have snow showers, but they’re not amounting to much, probably just a dusting. It is still cold, but not the single digits it has been. 33° feels like a heatwave. The clouds are a light gray, and from my window that’s what the whole world looks like. It is really quiet. My typing is the only sound in the house, and I hear nothing from outside: not a car and not a dog barking. My list of plans for today is short. I have one chore, watering the plants, and the rest of the day I’ll just relax and read. I could blame my idleness on my leg, but I don’t have to. I can do anything I want.

I forget how old I was when I stopped pretending. Maybe I was a teenager more mindful of boys and clothes and the future. That seems about the right time. I wasn’t a cowgirl any more or a knight or an explorer. I was me.

I have spent a long time learning about me. I came to realize early on that all that pretending was helping me become whatever I wanted. Nobody told a cowgirl she couldn’t ride the range. An explorer is meant to see the world. A knight is honorable and rights wrongs. Who could aspire for more?

I’m still learning.

“Movies are a complicated collision of literature, theatre, music and all the visual arts.”

January 23, 2011

The weatherman was right: it’s cold. When I went to bed last night, it was 16°. Right now it’s 27°, the high for the day. Earlier this morning we had snow flurries, but the sun appeared and chased the flurries away. The sun, though, is really just an ornament, something pretty but useless.

I still think of Sunday as a day of rest. After breakfast, I came home, got comfy, grabbed another cup of coffee and finished reading the papers. An early afternoon nap is on my to do list. I’m already yawning.

I am not fond of westerns. High Noon and She Wears a Yellow Ribbon are the only two I’ll always watch. There are a few others I might watch like Shane or Butch Cassidy but only if nothing better is on TV. Mostly I shy away from westerns. I blame my childhood for this. For years all I watched were western TV shows. On Saturday morning, when I was young, it was The Cisco Kid, Roy and Dale, Sky King, Gene Autry, Hopalong Cassidy, Annie Oakley and my personal favorite, The Lone Ranger, to name just a few. At night, it seemed as if every station aired a western or two. If I started a list here, it would extend for most of the page. I was westerned out by the time I reached high school.

Some of my favorite movies are old ones in B&W. I will always watch Gunga Din, Arsenic and Old Lace, Psycho (though I still hate the shower scene), To Kill a Mockingbird and my personal favorite, Casablanca. There are more, but these are the ones which popped into my head. Oops, Dr. Strangelove just popped in.

I will watch any of the old science fiction movies. Some are quite good though they are far outweighed by the bad ones, the ones  I also love to watch. The good ones include The Invasion of the Body Snatchers, The Thing, Them and all the classics made in the 30’s.

I own several of these movies, but I still always watch them when they appear on TV. Most times they’re on Turner Classic Movies, one of my favorite channels. If I notice one of them is listed, I make sure I have plenty of popcorn. Every now and then I add Good & Plenty, my favorite matinee candy when I was a kid.

“January brings the snow, makes our feet and fingers glow.”

January 21, 2011

Early this morning, three or four o’clock early, I could hear the rain falling on the roof.  I don’t know when it stopped, but it left a damp, gray day. Off-cape snow is falling, and the world has paused for a bit. No cars are on the road and many stores are closed. Here, life just goes on the same as it does every Friday.

Let’s just call this paragraph an amendment. Snow has started falling. The flakes are huge and being blown all over by the wind. I didn’t get to my feeders yesterday so I have to brave the snow and cold today. My birds will be disappointed if there is no seed.

We used to stick our tongues out to catch snowflakes. We’d also grab some snow with our mittens and lick it as if it were ice cream. A snow storm back then was never an inconvenience. It was an opportunity. It was a get the sleds out or make a snow fort day. Snowball fights decided who kept the hill. The winners usually overran the losers and pelted them with an arsenal of snowballs. A little extra money could always be gotten by shoveling out a house. The trick was to wait a bit and then ask at the houses still not shoveled. Most times old ladies came to the door. We’d dicker the price then I’d shovel the steps and the walkway. By the time I got home, I was frozen and covered in snow, but I was also rich by a few dollars.

I don’t shovel. I’m now one of those proverbial old ladies. Skip, my factotum, plows my driveway and shovels the walkway and the mailbox. I don’t even own a shovel any more. The last time we had snow it was a dusting, and I used my broom to clear the walkway. The two, the dusting and the broom, were perfect together.

“Don’t knock the weather; nine-tenths of the people couldn’t start a conversation if it didn’t change once in a while.”

January 20, 2011

Okay, I’ve had enough. Snow is coming tomorrow, the sort you have to shovel, while from Sunday through Wednesday snow showers are predicted. I thought that strange. I always think rain when I hear showers. I wonder what happened to snow flurries? Anyway, it’s cold and it’s going to get colder. The high on Sunday will be 18° and on Monday 17°. The low on Sunday will be 4°. That is not a typo.

It amazes me that when I was a little kid I walked to and from school in all sorts of weather. Single digit temperatures just meant bundling more. Sometimes we’d even walk backwards because the wind was so cold it numbed our faces. Getting to school was a relief.

As a kid, I loved sleeping in a cold house. I’d snuggle under all the blankets to stay warm. The problem was my nose. It was always cold. Sleeping with it under the blankets just didn’t work. I felt smothered. I’d rub it with my hand to try and get it warm, but that never lasted too long. It was my destiny to have a cold nose every winter night.

Even now I love sleeping in a cold house, but the problem is still my nose. It’s always cold. Gracie’s ears meet the same fate as my nose. They are always cold. I guess I should be glad to have company in my misery.

When I was in Ghana, I wanted winter and snow, and I wanted to be cold. It was hot every day, stifling sometimes. I’d shower at night, a cold shower as I had no hot water, and not dry off. After my shower, I’d run to the house, jump into bed and let the air cool me so I could fall asleep.

I figure we all want to be somewhere else when it’s too hot or too cold. I also figure the weather gives us something to gripe and complain about. Stand in line at the grocery store and listen to the conversations. Most times people are talking about the weather. Today, with snow predicted tomorrow, the grocery stores will be filled and the bread and milk will disappear.

The cold weather lets us recognize that there are some things we all have in common. That, I suspect, is its greatest attribute.

“I’m not going to buy my kids an encyclopedia. Let them walk to school like I did.”

January 19, 2011

Winter was kind to us yesterday. Off cape got snow; we got rain, tremendous rain, and it was warm enough last night that it didn’t freeze. Because of that storm, a goodly amount of the snow is gone.

Today is damp and ugly. Nothing is moving on the trees. The sky is a light gray. A little bit of sun would be welcomed.

In Hyannis was a green stamp redemption center. My mother would let us lick her green stamps and place them in the book as if it were a privilege. We’d even fight over turns. She kept the books in a kitchen drawer. I remember the pages and the squares where the stamps, all with S&H on the front, were supposed to go. My mother once got a table lamp with her green stamps. She put it in the living room. For some reason, it’s the only redemption I remember.

My mother bought every book of our encyclopedia from the supermarket, one issue each week. I remember the books had red covers and took up most of the space in the living room bookcase. When I was bored, I’d pick one and then open it at a random page and read what I’d found. You could buy a yearly supplement to keep it current, but we never did. My mother also bought a set of Melmac dishes at the supermarket. They were virtually indestructible which, I figure, was the allure. She also bought the special dishes like the gravy boat and the vegetable dish with a divider down the middle. A few plates lasted for decades, and I think there might have been one in the cabinet when my mother passed away. Its pattern was gone, wheat stalks I think, and there were scratches and nicks, but it had survived four kids and endless hand washings for well over forty years. I don’t know what happened to that plate. I can’t think it was bought at the house sale. Its worth was  sentimental and, in a way, historical. Supermarkets don’t give away anything anymore.

“I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear.”

January 17, 2011

“This is not a black holiday; it is a people’s holiday,” said Coretta Scott King after President Ronald Reagan signed the King Holiday Bill into law on Nov. 2, 1983. But in the complicated history of Martin Luther King, Jr Day, it has only recently been a holiday for all the people, all the time.

Fifteen years earlier, on April 4, 1968, Mrs. King had lost her husband, the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. to an assassin’s bullet. In the months after the death of the civil rights icon, Congressman John Conyers Jr. of Michigan introduced the first legislation seeking to make King’s birthday, Jan. 15, a federal holiday. The King Memorial Center in Atlanta was founded around the same time, and it sponsored the first annual observance of King’s birthday, in January 1969, almost a decade and a half before it became an official government-sanctioned holiday. Before then, individual states including Illinois, Massachusetts and Connecticut had passed their own bills celebrating the occasion.

The origins of the holiday are mired in racism, politics and conspiracy. Three years after Conyers introduced preliminary legislation in 1968, the Southern Christian Leadership Conference — which King headed from its inception until his death — presented Congress with a petition signed by more than 3 million people supporting a King holiday. The bill languished in Congress for eight years, unable to gain enough support until President Jimmy Carter, former governor of Georgia and the first Democratic President since Lyndon Johnson, vowed to support a King holiday.

Reinvigorated by the President’s support, King’s widow, Coretta, testified before joint hearings of Congress and organized a nationwide lobby to support the bill. Yet in November 1979, Conyers’ King-holiday bill was defeated in the House by just five votes. Coretta continued her fight for approval of a national holiday, testifying before Congress several more times and mobilizing governors, mayors and city council members across the nation to make the passage of a King-holiday bill part of their agenda. Singer Stevie Wonder became a prominent proponent and released the song Happy Birthday in 1980 — it became a rallying cry. He and Coretta went on to present a second petition to Congress, this one containing 6 million signatures of support. Their work finally paid off when the House passed the bill with a vote of 338 to 90.

The bill faced a somewhat tougher fight in the Senate, however. In an opposition campaign led primarily by Republican Senators John P. East and Jesse Helms of North Carolina, some attempted to emphasize King’s associations with communists and his alleged sexual dalliances as reasons not to honor him with a federal holiday. As part of his efforts, on Oct. 3, 1983, Helms read a paper on the Senate floor, written by an aide to Senator East, called “Martin Luther King Jr.: Political Activities and Associations” and also provided a 300-page supplemental document to the members of the Senate detailing King’s communist connections. Some Senators expressed outrage over Helms’ actions, including New York’s Daniel Patrick Moynihan, who threw the document to he ground, stomped on it and deemed it a “packet of filth.”

Arguing that any person opposing a King holiday would automatically be dubbed a racist, Helms urged the Senate not to be bullied into elevating King to “the same level as the father of our country and above the many other Americans whose achievements approach that of Washington’s” by making him one of the few individuals honored by a federal holiday. The day before the bill passed the Senate, District Judge John Lewis Smith Jr. denied Helms’ request to unseal FBI surveillance tapes of King that were due to remain sealed until 2027. President Reagan signed the bill into law in November 1983 and the first official holiday was observed on the third Monday of January 1986.

At the time, only 27 states and Washington, D.C., honored the holiday. Most famously, all three Arizona House Republicans including current Senator and former presidential candidate John McCain, voted against the bill in ’83. The state did not vote in favor of recognizing the holiday until 1992, not only rejecting pleas from Reagan and then Arizona governor Evan Mecham but also losing the NFL’s support when the league moved Super Bowl XXVII from Sun Devil Stadium, in Tempe, to California in protest. Arizona was not the only state openly contemptuous of federal law. In 2000, 17 years after the law’s official passage and the same year it pulled the Confederate flag down from its statehouse dome, South Carolina became the last state to sign a bill recognizing Martin Luther King Jr. Day as a paid holiday.

By Frances Romero

“You’ll find boredom where there is the absence of a good idea”

January 16, 2011

It’s in the mid-30’s and is again a bright and sunny day which feels a bit warmer than yesterday. I went out for my Sunday breakfast and was amazed at how crowded the roads were. I guessed people wanted all their chores done before the football playoffs this afternoon. I have one more chore I couldn’t do this morning as the store was closed when I went by it. I’ll go before the Pats play this afternoon. The game starts at 4:30.

Today is one of those not so much on my mind days. My muse has left for a warmer clime, and I don’t blame her. The snow has lost its glamor. It’s dirty along the roadside, pockmarked from the rain and filled with boot, shoe and dog prints. It needs to go rather than be replenished.

Yesterday the Earth was nearly destroyed by ice, a black hole, meteors, the sun, a behemoth disguised as a mountain and a volcano. Luckily, our hero, always a male, was always on hand to save the day, but it was usually the female scientists who first noticed something was amiss.

I checked the Peace Corps Ghana site to see if there was any information about the 50th anniversary. There wasn’t. I’m getting anxious about the possibility of missing another cheaper priced flight as I have missed two already.

This entry seems like the sale table in a store where everything is marked down to 75%. Usually that table is a mishmash of items including, months later, Christmas items which never sold. It’s just one of those days.

“Whoever said money can’t buy happiness simply didn’t know where to go shopping.”

January 15, 2011

From my window, the day looks lovely, sunny and bright, but I know all that sun is merely a backdrop for the cold. It’s a day to stay in, stay comfy and watch the scify marathon of disaster movies. A black hole just ate St. Louis and is on the move.

I never noticed dust when I was a kid. I think the ability to see it comes in adulthood, for most of us anyway. I can see my house is dusty, and I’ve been using my sweatshirt sleeve as a dust rag as I walk by a table or picture frame, but that’s as far as I’m going. The rest of the dust can have its way for a while.

Today I’m going to start wrapping Christmas presents. Because of my surgery, I never did get to the Christmas box downstairs. Most of my family and friends got their large presents, but the smaller ones stayed in the cellar. I figure the disaster movies and wrapping will be fine ways to spend the afternoon.

Saturday was when I used to get my allowance. It was fifty cents a week, a tidy sum, and happily for me it was never tied to any specific chores. Many Saturdays I’d walk uptown and buy myself a new book. I always got a penny in change, and it too had value. My father thought me a spendthrift. He told me some of my money should be saved for an emergency. I was ten and couldn’t conjure any sort of an emergency even in my imagination which would demand my paltry savings. I had no idea my father was trying to teach me a life skill. I just knew I had fifty cents burning my pocket.