Keep the Coffee Comimg

The sky is cloudy and it’s dark, but no rain is predicted. The temperature is about right for this time of year, 55˚. I need to get dog food today as Mr. Henry has only a single can left, not even enough for dinner.

This morning I noticed one of pictures was crooked. I walked right by it. That is so not me. I can’t stand crooked pictures. I sat down, tried not to care, had a couple of sips of coffee, opened the paper then went and straightened the picture. I lasted as long as I could.

I feel especially bright this morning, not mood bright but brain bright. I easily filled the Globe crossword and just as easily solved the Cape Times cryptogram.

My father loved reading the newspaper. It was his morning ritual. After he had retired, he’d sit on the front steps, drink his coffee and read his paper. Just about every car that went by him honked and he waved. He knew everybody.

My father wore a white shirt and tie with his suits for years and years. One Christmas I bought him a yellow shirt. My mother said he’d never wear it. He did. That was the end of starched white shirts. What I missed when he stopped needing the dry cleaners, or dry cleansers as my father called them, was that piece of cardboard in every shirt. It was perfect for all sorts of crafts.

I’ve picked up more clumps of black fur. These clumps, though, surprised me as they felt weird and looked odd. I wondered if Gwen was coming downstairs while Henry and I slept. They could also have been Jack’s as he tends to get clumps, and I tend to find them all over. Either way I just picked them up and tossed them. This morning Henry was carrying around his Halloween toy, his Frankenstein. I noticed Frank has black hair, strange looking black hair.

I did buy candy in case the neighbor kids drop by the house. I took my time scrolling through the Amazon candy offerings. I wanted candy kids might like but candy I definitely like. A package of Butterfingers, Baby Ruths, Nestle Crunch and 100 Grand bars is what I bought. The candy came a few days ago. I have been hard-pressed not too open it. I’d have to buy more if I did.

Today I need dog food. Tomorrow I have a doctor’s appointment, a routine appointment. That means I’ll be getting dressed two days in a row again. I consider that beyond the pale.

One o’clock has come and gone. Henry is sleeping on the couch but Jack, the cat, is restless. He is on the table, and his tail keeps sweeping across the computer screen. It’s driving me crazy. Meanwhile, Gwen is on one of the stairs, maybe the third from the top, meowing. She does that every night. She bemoans her fate.

My heat just went on. It is set at the night time temperature of 65˚ so the house is really cold. I need a nose muff.

When I was a kid, my school shoes had laces. I could tie the laces, but it took me a while to learn to make the bows tight. Until then, I was just glad I could make the bow. Tension was never part of the execution.

End of Part I

Today is an ugly day. I could give you so many reasons for ugly, but I’ll just grouse about the weather for now. It is on and off raining. It is dark and still and quiet. It is a good day to be home.

Massachusetts is a political outcast. It always gets ignored by both presidential candidates. Trump knows it is a waste of time to try to court Massachusetts voters. Babies are born blue in this state. Biden knows he needs to be elsewhere. Massachusetts is safe for him. After all, we were the only state to vote for McGovern, a matter of pride for me.

I love my slippers. For years I have been wearing wool clogs. My current clogs are grey. Most of the time I forget to change into shoes when I go out so my slippers serve double duty. This morning my toe broke through the wool, my big toe. I almost cried.

My birds are back. The feeders need to be filled again. I like to watch the feeders from the window over the sink. The chickadees and titmice fly in and out constantly, an ever lasting loop of birds.

My laundry is becoming a B movie creature. Every day the pile gets bigger. Henry is starting to walk around it, wary the whole time. I’m thinking I’ll do it tomorrow, a Scarlet O’Hara tomorrow.

I gave Henry his new Halloween toy early. I let him see it then smell it then I slid it across the floor to him. Anything new is gradual with Henry. I just heard the toy squeal. Frankenstein dog toy has met its match.