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Pretty Snowflakes: Patti Page
February 11, 2012“Dusting is a good example of the futility of trying to put things right. As soon as you dust, the fact of your next dusting has already been established.”
February 9, 2012On the ground this morning was a dusting of snow. I even hesitate to use dusting to describe that snow, but I don’t know a smaller word for the amount on the ground. When I went to get the papers, the air reminded me of early spring when the mornings are chilly but hint of a warmer day. It is only 39° now but it is supposed to be in the mid-40’s later. I know this is only February, and I know spring is a long way off, but I can’t help but think of spring on a day like today.
More and more shoots are above the ground in my front garden. A seed catalogue comes every day, and I look through it trying to decide what flowers to add to my garden this year. I have a side garden now which runs along the driveway and needs filling. I have a feeling the garden store staff will applaud every time they see me coming. There might even be balloons!
Today is in-house chore day with washing to do, plants to water, my bed to change and a few places which need polishing. The book-case is so disgusting I could write a novel in all the dust. I’d need a clever title or I could just steal Butler’s title The Way of All Flesh.
Somehow or other all of my doctor’s appointments seem to come in the spring. I figure there is some weird connection between them and the rebirth of the Earth.
For years, I made special dinners and invited friends. I usually made something I hadn’t ever made before because I enjoyed hunting through cookbooks, imagining how the foods would fit together and then preparing the dishes. Lately I’ve been saving recipes and thinking about cooking again. I also just bought a new cupcake pan and want to give it a try. I’ve always been a cake person, but I’m willing to branch out to make a few of cake’s smaller relatives.
Well, the dust is calling me and I need to get the wash going. Today is just going to be one of those days. I’ll hate it, but at the end, even all that cleaning will give me a sense of accomplishment.
“There’s a certain nostalgia and romance in a place you left.”
February 7, 2012Mother Nature must be really in a pleasant mood as today is nearly 50°. The sun is beautiful with a backdrop of the bluest sky and nary a cloud in sight. The fact I have to go to the dentist today is mitigated by how wonderful a ride it will be. That, I never expected.
Walking to school every day only bothered me in the rain. I didn’t mind the cold; my mother was a bundler. In pleasant weather the sidewalk was shaded by leaves from the giant trees which bordered it. We walked over railroad tracks, the same ones we followed as far as we dared on our Saturday excursions. One side ended not far from where I crossed them, but I never found the other end. I still don’t know where they ended. It’s one of the mysteries left over from my childhood.
When I visit my sister, I take the same routes I used to walk as a kid for the sake of my memories and a bit of nostalgia. Sadly, most of the old houses I used to pass are gone, replaced by brick apartment buildings. The tracks too are gone. The trees still stand tall along the sidewalk, but they’re all that’s left. As I pass the familiar streets, I tell myself things like the red store used to be there, the white one there, the lady from France lived in that house and the house on the hill was where the Kimballs lived. My mother and the Kimball’s mother went to high school together. I don’t remember how many kids she had, but there were many. Their house always seemed to need paint. The shortcut I used to take through the grass from Pomeworth Street is now a real walkway with steps. I think it was put there because across the street from the end of the shortcut is housing for the elderly. My father used to call those apartments Wrinkle City. His mother lived in one of them. One of my uncles lives in one now as does the aunt who is younger than I am. Driving by the apartments, I still chuckle a bit and think of my father.
My turtle was buried in a tin box in the woods that used to be where the apartments are now. As I drive by, I approximate the exact burial site. Grass is there now. I wonder if anyone found the tin.
Football
February 5, 2012I spend over an hour looking for football songs I could have played the Monday Night Theme but it isn’t Monday. Some of the rap songs I hated. I couldn’t find the L.L. Cool j download or I’d have played that. Sorry for only 2 songs this mighty weekend!
“One advantage of talking to yourself is that you know at least somebody’s listening.”
February 4, 2012Saturday just isn’t as interesting as it used to be. When I was a kid, it was cartoons , Howdy Doody, Annie Oakley and all the rest day. It was eating cereal in front of the small, black and white TV set with the wooden doors. In college, it was recuperate from Friday night day. It was a day to do absolutely nothing until party time Saturday night, and there was always a party. When I was working, Saturday was errand day. It was ride around town, do some shopping to perk the soul and spirit, hit the grocery store and maybe meet friends later for a drink or two.
Since I retired, I can do all of my errands any day of the week. Saturday has slipped into being just like all the other days. Its only redeeming quality is the SyFy (silly darn spelling) channel which often shows really bad movies all day. I miss the old Saturday.
We’re back to the 40’s again while my sister in Colorado is buried under two plus feet of snow. Even the schools were closed on Friday, a most unusual event for Colorado. We have sun and blue skies and a bit of a breeze. All in all it’s a pretty nice day.
I called my sister yesterday so I could hear a human voice. My other sister called me. It was a banner day for conversation. Moe talked about the snow and how happy she was that they had shopped before the storm. Her street hadn’t been plowed since the morning, and it was late afternoon. Gracie in that much snow would be hidden, and her movements would resemble those of the giant worms in Tremors where all you saw was the ground rippling.
Today has been a mishmash. My mind is a potpourri of useless tidbits, of space fillers. It seems all the outloud talking I’ve been doing to myself is finally taking its toll. I even think I’ve started answering.
The Way We Were: Barbra Streisand 1974
January 29, 2012Happy Birthyear Sprite!
“Ladies and gentlemen, take my advice; Pull down your pants, and slide on the ice.”
January 28, 2012Today is warm and sunny with a sharp blue winter sky. I woke up earlier than usual but lolled a bit until Gracie rang her bells to go outside then I came downstairs, let her out and started the coffee. When I came back inside from getting the papers and something from the car, the house had the wonderful smell of fresh coffee. I could barely wait for that first cup.
Today is chore day. I have a list; I always have a list. Yesterday I did nothing so today I expect to be industrious, but I never begrudge a day like today. I figure once it’s over I get to loll again. That’s my reward.
The winter is speeding by and hasn’t really made its impact yet. We’ve only had a few really cold days and very little snow. It is 43° right now, and the day is still, not even a brown leaf flutters from the end of a branch. This would be the January thaw most years but not this one. It’s become the typical day. Now we complain when it’s in the 30’s. We used to reserve our complaints for days in the teens or ones in single digits. I fear we New Englanders are getting spoiled and may no longer be considered hardy.
My mother and father lived in the city when they were young so we never heard stories from them about walking in several feet of snow to get to school. I don’t remember several feet either though I do remember walking on the street to get to school as the sidewalks weren’t plowed. In those days the plows usually left a thick layer of snow on the streets which sometimes turned icy in spots. Those icy sections glinted in the sun and invited us to run and slide, each trying to out-do the other in distance. Falling was not uncommon and always made us laugh. We’d almost forget we were on our way to school.
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