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“Forget about being world famous, it’s hard enough just getting the automatic doors at the supermarket to acknowledge our existence.”
March 3, 2012Gee, it’s raining. What a surprise! I was shocked when I woke up and saw yesterday and the day before and the day before that outside my window. The difference is today is warmer at 50°.
It’s sci-fi Saturday when I get to watch a whole day of TV filled with creatures whose main diet is man. Right now Manticore is picking out his entrée having already enjoyed several appetizers, nearly a whole village full.
I have to grocery shop today, my least favorite thing to do. I’ll go up and down the aisles filling my cart while in a stupor hoping to avoid conversation and the carts parked willy-nilly in the middle of the aisles. My list of what I really need is even boring, mostly household cleaning items. I can barely wait for the dishwashing liquid aisle.
You might have figured I am feeling a bit languid today. If my fridge weren’t empty, I might postpone the shopping, but I’m stuck hitting the aisles if I want lunch or dinner. Where is that housekeeper I ordered?
I used to love to shop in the market in Ghana. It was filled with colors and sounds and chattering in a language I didn’t understand but loved hearing. First, I’d make my usual stops: the beef meat market, my vegetable lady, the egg man, the pick out your chicken line-up and then I’d wander. I never knew what I might find. Some days I’d buy cloth to have a dress made. Once I found a watermelon. Usually I’d just fill my bag with onions, tomatoes, maybe garden eggs and a yam. I’d greet everyone,”Sanda kasuwa,” (I greet you in the market), and they’d return the greeting. I was a usual sight so no one took special notice of this white woman wandering the market.
I loved market day. It was every third day, and I’d go if I could. Now I get stuck shopping in the dullest of places: Stop and Shop. I know their meat will never turn green and I won’t find a partially formed chicken when I break an egg but where’s the adventure?
“Mathematics was hard, dull work. Geography pleased me more. For dancing I was quite enthusiastic.”
February 26, 2012Today is winter. The dump was freezing and the wind felt Arctic. I swear the people in the car beside me were speaking Russian. If records were being kept, the fastest dump runs in history would be today’s.
Last night the wind howled and the house shook. I was glad the new palm tree was nailed in places to the deck or it would have gone flying, a bit like the cow and the rowboat in The Wizard of Oz cyclone. All I did was snuggle even more under my down comforter and go back to sleep.
Monday was the worst day of the week and the worst of all Monday’s was the one after a vacation. That would be tomorrow around here.
We all knew school was inevitable. Hating to go only made it worse so abiding it as a necessary evil made it a bit more tolerable for those for whom school was anathema. I liked school or at least I never minded going. I liked most subjects except arithmetic because it was the only one which ever gave me any trouble. I used to hide my fingers under my desk so I wouldn’t get caught using them. I was a great carrier of numbers though. It was always the smaller ones which tripped me up, never those with three digits. I remember writing the 1 over the number the way I had been taught while in my head, I’d be saying, “And carry the one.” It was almost like a prayer, something we all learned by heart. My favorite subject was reading. We had a book series which we used from year to year. The books were filled with stories and poems with questions at the end. Lots of times we’d have to read aloud. I always felt bad for the kid who had trouble with words and for whom reading aloud was torture. “Sound out the letters,” was always the nun’s directive as if that easily solved the problem. What I thought was strange was our report cards graded us on silent reading, never reading aloud so I didn’t understand why we did it. I suppose to prove we could read.
I’m sorry geography as a separate subject has disappeared from most schools. It was always a favorite of mine. Only one part, learning the exports of all the countries, was never all that important to me. I liked the pictures and mostly I liked the stories of the way people lived. The tulips and the windmills, the snow on the mountains and the goats and sheep were far more fun than bananas and coffee beans.
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.
