I didn’t realize there is a limit as to how many lovely spring days we get in a row. This morning I found out the limit is two. It is a rainy, damp, chilly, uninviting day. I do need to go out, though, to a concert, the second of three in a row, and to get some dog food and a comforting Snickers bar.

Last night I had a flutternutter. The peanut butter was super chunky. The bread was soft. I was in sandwich heaven.

I watched Ice Quake, a B+ movie. In it, people died by falling in crevasses, being buried by snow and inhaling methane gas. The dog, Yeti, ran away from his humans and was running all over the mountain. He survived. Dogs usually do except for Old Yeller.

I am done cleaning for a while. The kitchen floor looked great for a couple of days, but now the paw prints are back. In the hall and den, the dust balls again stir when I walk by them. Cleaning is futile.

In the play Our Town, Emily has died, but before she takes her place among the dead, she gets to relive a day. She chooses her 12th birthday. She sees the town as it was and how young her parents look. She sees George who would become her husband. She finds the experience devastating and returns to the afterlife. She says, “Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it?”

I can answer Emily. I found an old, really old, aerogram I sent from Ghana, just a few months away from closing service. In it, I worry about going home, what I’ll do and what I’ll find. I also talk about Ghana and what I’d learned. I’m going to share some of this aerogram.

”I’m beginning to realize how lucky I am. This is the sort of experience that no one should or can do without. In a way it is a bit mind blowing. All of a sudden you’re awake to sounds, sights and feelings you never knew existed before, and it is the sort of experience you can never forget because you’ve tried to absorb every particle that you can so it can all be brought back whenever it begins to dim.” I figure I realized how wonderful and beautiful my life was, and those two years taught me to hold close to every day.

I still do that now, realize the joy in every day. I’d hate to miss anything.

I am still infected with the cleaning bug. Yesterday it was the kitchen, hall and bathroom floors and vacuuming and dusting the dining room. They look great, but I am exhausted.

Mother Nature is doing her spring dance. Today is another beautiful day. It is 58° with the deepest blue sky and not a cloud in sight. The sun is so bright it highlights everything. Even the pine trees look lovely. My front garden is awash with flowers. More dafs have bloomed. The deepest maroon hyacinths have appeared. The forsythia is bright with yellow flowers. The world is wild with color.

When I was a kid I loved spring not so much for the flowers but for the warm days. I got to bring my bicycle out of the cellar. It would stay parked in the backyard just waiting for me. I even liked riding to the white store for bread or milk, things which never lasted in our house. The afternoons were long. The sun stayed around. We got to play outside until just about supper time.

We played games like Red Rover. It was a game of strength. We stood in two lines facing each other. Each line held hands. We’d call over a member of the other side. If the kid we called broke through, he got to take one of us back with him, but if he didn’t, we got to keep him. I remember some teams got down to two. They were doomed.

My other favorite games were Red Light, Green Light and Simon Says. There was always a lot of groaning with Simon Says. The caller had to be clever. It was easy to get caught.

After supper, we always watched TV. My father got home late and seldom ate supper with us. I remember him coming through the door. I can see him in my mind’s eye wearing his fedora and top coat. He always wore a suit and a white shirt, a starched white shirt. His tie was always in a Windsor knot.

My house is quiet. The dogs are elsewhere. Nala is outside lying in the sun and tearing apart a cardboard box she stole. She is a happy dog. Henry is napping upstairs, but he comes down every now and then to bark at something outside only he sees.

My dance card is filled this week starting tonight with uke practice. We are beginning to work on Songs of the 70’s, Book 2. My lesson tomorrow will be practicing the same music. There are three concerts this week. I will definitely go to two of them. As for the rest of the week, the only thing I know is I will not be cleaning.

Restoring Coffee is still a work in progress.

My blog is still a mess. I need to sit with it a while to figure out how to get back to Coffee as we know it. I am quite frustrated at myself. I didn’t pay the annual fee I had been paying until all hell broke loose. Now I have to figure everything out again. Oh well!

Today is spring warm, in the mid 60’s. The clouds are gone and the sun has taken its rightful place in a blue sky. My weather gauges, the two dogs, are outside and have been for a while. They have even missed their morning naps to enjoy the warmth. I just might have to join them.*

I can still remember the joy the first warm days brought when I was a kid. It was spring jacket weather, sometimes skipping all the way to school weather and perfect weather for playing outside till late afternoon. In my mind’s eye, I can still see the field below our house. In spring, the grass grew tall and was filled with grasshoppers. I remember running to chase the jumping grasshoppers hoping to catch one with my hands. They were brown. I used to peek through my fingers to check them out. I liked their legs. I remember the dead tree on the left in the back of the field. Only the bottom part of its truck stood. One big branch had fallen across the path. I used to climb over it rather than take the path around it. Just beyond that tree, the field ended in a copse with only a small dirt pathway between the trees. The swamp was just a bit further. That was my play-land when I was a kid.

When I was really young, I didn’t have any worries. My only responsibility was school. I didn’t mind. I always liked school. Because I wore a uniform, I didn’t worry about clothes. I mostly had play clothes and a dress or two for church. I loved comfy clothes, still do. In Ghana, I was the dressiest I have ever been. I wore a dress every day. It was customary.

I have been infected by the cleaning bug. While I was waiting for my coffee, I ended up in the dining room cleaning and dusting the cupboard, all the dishes in it, the tables and the chairs. I fear that bug.

I’m back! Greasing the fingers of WordPress had my site up and running in only a couple of hours. I was finally able to exhale. I admit I did panic a bit to think it was all gone. I wish I could have started earlier. It was a sunny lovely morning then, not so now. The sky is cloudy and rain is predicted so the kitchen floor will stay dirty. I’ll just close my eyes when I walk into the kitchen.

I am cooking chicken in the big frying pan with a cover. I learned my lesson when Nala stole a chicken breast right out of the pan.

I have never been a cruise person, but there have been two exceptions. One was the cruise ship which went through the Miraflores lock of the Panama Canal. My mother chose that cruise because the ship was old, small and went through the canal. She knew I’d jump on board(sorry!). The ship had been built in the 1950’s. It had been refurbished a bit as a casino and a movie theater were added. The railings and the outside walkways were teak. There was only one dining room, but there were also other spots for food. I used to get up early and eat breakfast up top right by the outside doors and the ocean. I’d eat with my brother in law Rod also an early riser. That ship stopped at Cartagena, Columbia, and we all got off. I took a tour then went on my own to roam. It also stopped at the San Blas Islands. I went snorkeling and then checked out the big island. I left the center of town and followed a dirt road. I found a village. They were a bit surprised to see me. I was invited into a house and went inside to meet the family. We did a lot of pointing as we had no language in common. I woke up at 3:30 in the morning to watch us go through the canal. The shore was so lit up it was as bright as day. The ship was guided through the canal mules, electronic locomotives named after the actual mules on the Erie Canal. It was spectacular. We stopped at the Gatun Lake, a freshwater artificial lake which is part of the canal. I went swimming. I bought a t-shirt which said I swam in the Panama Canal.

My other cruise I’ll save for another day. I will tell you it was in South America from Paraguay to Argentina.

My dance card is uke heavy this week with practice, a lesson and three concerts. My only free day is tomorrow. I think I’ll nap.

The sun is bright, and I can see blue sky. The wind is softer now. It is in the mid-50’s, about right for spring on Cape Cod. Gardens are filled with color. My forsythia has bloomed. Its yellow is almost eye-squinting bright. Today is a pretty day.

Saturday has always been the sweetest day. When I was a kid, it was the Saturday matinee in winter while, during the rest of the year, it was whatever struck my fancy. Sometimes I walked and sometimes I rode my bike. My mother knew not to ask where I was going as I often didn’t know. I had favorite places like the zoo, the town’s horse barn, window shopping up town, the golf course to hunt for the errant balls and Weiss farm. I liked to watch the cows. When I was older, I usually spent the day doing little. It was at night when my friends and I would get together. Sometimes we went to the movies. Sometimes we went bowling. I was a terrible bowler. I remember wandering in Harvard Square. I used to check out the kiosk in the middle of the square. I’d look at the newspapers from out of town and the magazines from everywhere. We used to eat at the Wursthaus. I always thought it a bit exotic with its German food.

In Ghana Saturday night was the best night. It was entertainment night. Sometimes we watched a movie a USAID guy would leave. I remember Great Expectations which my students didn’t understand. The English was too quick for their ears. I had to answer a million questions. The best night was tribal dancing night. The tribes were scattered around the school compound. My favorites were the northern tribes, like the FraFra, the tribe in Bolga. Their dancing was energetic and joyful. They clapped and sang. The tribes from the south, especially the Ashanti, were graceful and subdued. In the school cafeteria the students from other countries danced with each other to records. I remember them playing Say It Loud I am Black and Proud over and over and singing along.

Now, most Saturdays, I have no plans. I let my inner sloth freak flag fly.

The wind and the rain are back yet again. The rain started last night. I could hear it on the windows in my bedroom. The wind came later. All the branches are swaying. It is warm right now. It will rain all day. I do have to go out as I have a uke concert this afternoon.

When I was a kid, when it rained, my classroom was always a bit dark. The old lights hung down from the ceiling. Except for the rain hitting the windows, the room was often quiet. I could hear pages of our books being turned. I could the creaks of the old desk chairs. I always felt as if the room was wrapped around us, holding us.

I used to ride my bike to the library. I’d take books back then get more books. The children’s section had wooden tables and chairs. Some of the chairs were captain’s chairs with tall backs and arms. I always thought the room smelled like books. The mystery section was on the wall behind the librarian’s desk. The bookcases there were tall. The section with all the tall tales and fables was on the other side of the room. The book cases were short so I had to stoop or even sit on the rug to read the titles. I loved the stores about Paul Bunyan, Pecos Bill, Johnny Appleseed and Annie Oakley. They piqued my imagination. I also used to look at travel books, pages and pages of pictures which showed me the world. I always knew I’d visit some of those places. I always thought the library was almost magical.

The rain is hardly falling. The wind is the loudest. It has the proverbial freight train sound. Inside, my house is quiet. The dogs are asleep beside each other on the couch. Every now and then Henry sighs. My house is dark except for the light in this room, the den, and the night light in the bathroom, the one with a sensor. I like the darkness the rain brings.

Other than changing the bed, the chores got done yesterday. While I was cleaning upstairs, the dogs were on the bed and refused to move so I left the clean sheets on the chair. I’ll try again today.

Today is cloudy and it will rain again. We have been inundated with rain, but the last two days have been so lovely I guess I shouldn’t complain. Besides, April showers bring May flowers.

When I was in the eighth grade, we took advantage of Sister Hildegard. She was quite old, and we were too much for her to handle. I remember one kid who dumped a little of his milk into the basket every few days. He’d show Sister Hildegard, and she’d let him leave to clean the basket. He was always gone a few hours. She never noticed. I had a friend who found learning difficult. During a test she’d call me out loud from the other side of the room and ask for help. I’d write some of the answers on a small piece of paper and then ask Sister Hildegard if I could get up to throw the trash away. On the way to the basket I’d drop the answers on my friend’s desk. I know it was cheating, but I always thought it didn’t count if I was helping my friend. I saw my friend a few years back at a reunion. I hadn’t seen her for years. She gave me a hug and told people I had helped her graduate from the eighth grade.

Sister Hildegard used to go crazy sometimes. She’d scream at us and say that when we graduated she’d write on the board in huge letters, “Thank God they are gone.” She always mentioned us and the devil in the same sentence as kindred spirits. Sister Hildegard always liked me. I was never mean.

Nala stole an egg yesterday. I had put it on the counter. I was right there beside the counter, but I didn’t see her. When I went to grab the eggs to cook them, I noticed one was missing. Nala went out the dog door, her tell when she has stolen food. I looked and watched her go into the yard. I could see the shape of the egg in her mouth. I wonder if she ate the shell.

Today I will clean. I will water plants and change my bed. I will put my clean clothes away. I will not get dressed, my concession to slothness.

The morning is perfect. The sun is squint your eyes bright. The blue sky is endless. The air is calm. It is already 59°, warmer than sweat shirt weather. My garden has color. The hyacinths, standing beside the dafs, are pink, purple and rose. One more is budded and soon to bloom. Today is spring on Cape Cod.

When I was a kid, I loved to sit with an encyclopedia book, one of the red ones from the supermarket, and randomly open a page. I’d read wherever the book opened. I liked the end of the alphabet books, the X,Y,Z books with the rare words. I loved learning weird things.

When my father had his vacation, we didn’t go far. We sometimes went to Ogunquit, Maine and stayed at a cottage belonging to my father’s friend. It was tiny. There was a small kitchen and everywhere else had beds, including one in the kitchen high up and hidden by a sideway door of sorts. My father’s friend’s family stayed there at the same time, all six of them and six of us. There was a lagoon of sorts right by the houses. It was separated from the beach by dunes. My father swam at the beach. He body surfed. I never did. I didn’t like the cold water. I swam in the warmer lagoon water. That was about the only thing to do. I also used to go to the car to hide, to be by myself, to read.

My favorite vacations were the stay home vacations. We used to go to a lake which had a slide and a rope like zip line you held on to over the water. My mother packed great picnic lunches. My favorite was pepper and egg. We’d stay there all day.

We used to go to museums. My favorite was the Peabody Museum at Harvard. It was filled with the most amazing exhibits. I remember the Polynesian outrigger hanging from the ceiling. I remember the ape heads in jars.

We went to the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. I wasn’t all that interested in the paintings, but I loved the Egyptian rooms. I also liked the rooms with furniture.

When I travel, I love museums. In Ghana during part of training, we were close to Accra, and we had free weekends. I hitched to Accra at the first opportunity. My first stop was the national museum.