Yesterday Coffee went wonky. It turned itself private, and it wouldn’t let me in to fix it. The problem was I didn’t renew the plan I had. I thought it wouldn’t make all that much difference. I was wrong, totally and completely wrong. I still haven’t corrected the upgraded blog so my plan right now is free. As soon as I have the money, I’ll go back to the other plan. The new URL is keepthecoffeecoming.wordpress.com. I’m happy at least that Coffee is back. I have been writing Coffee since 2004. That was on blogger which closed me down for posting videos so I switched to WordPress. I’m going to stay here on WordPress and Coffee will be back to its self in a short while. Thanks for being patient.

Last night it was 58°. The dogs huddled, and Jack went back into his winter residence, the teepee house, but this morning, I wanted to stand on the deck and sing at the top of my voice Oh! What a Beautiful Morning because the morning is a delight. The sun is brilliant. Its light dapples through the leaves. The slightest breeze is now and then. When it blows, the leaves float up and down on the ends of the branches. The deck and a book are in my future.

When I first moved to the cape, I was so very angry at my parents. They had uprooted me from what had always been my life. I lost everything. They tried to entice me by saying I’d have my own room, a poor trade. It didn’t work.

I remember signing up for classes. Somehow I got stuck with Latin 4. The counselor wouldn’t let me take typing. He gave me a speech/debate class instead. The only good thing was I had completed all my math requirements.

I remember my first day of school. I didn’t wear a uniform, but I did wear a black wrap around skirt with a madras blouse, mostly black and blue. I walked to school and stood in the back waiting for the door to open. There were hugs and lots of hellos. I stood by myself sort of huddled against the brick wall. I sat at a table by myself at lunch. I was miserable. I remember getting home and flinging my books and yelling to anyone within earshot I hated it.

I don’t remember how long it took for me to meet friends, to get comfortable. I joined clubs. One of them was the Latin Club. I think there were 7 or 8 of us. I figure I must have been desperate. Luckily, the word nerd had yet to be coined. I joined theater. I no longer ate alone. In the morning I stood with friends while waiting for the door to open. I had settled.

I go to all the reunions. I see high school friends around town. We always stop, hug and chat a bit. I don’t remember exactly when it happened, but the cape became my home. I am still here.

From somewhere far off I can hear a duck quacking. I like the sound. I also like the sound of roosters crowing to greet the day and the first songs of the birds just before sunrise. I can’t think of a more wonderful way to start the day.

The morning is lovely, cool and bright. The air is clear. Every now and then a small breeze stirs the leaves. The high today will be 75°. Tonight will be in the 60’s. If I could invent a day, it would be a day like today.

When I was a kid, I made promises to myself. I didn’t want to be ordinary. I never thought of it as an ego thing. I just figured I wouldn’t choose the usual. I would travel and see the world. There was never a doubt. I didn’t know anyone who had traveled nor did I know anyone who aspired to travel so I’d be the first. In the eighth grade I decided I’d join the Peace Corps as soon as I was able. I never shared that with anyone. It was my secret hope. Back then, when I was young, I didn’t know about destiny, fate or kismet, but I knew I’d keep my promises.

I remember events in my life which were small in the scheme of things. As to why I tucked these particular events into my memory drawers I have no idea.

I remember being in the principal’s office when I was in the eighth grade and being chosen to crown at the May procession. The only things I remember about the procession are I was at the end and stopped when people wanted pictures, and I had trouble climbing the ladder to the statue as my dress was so long. The priest grabbed my arm so I wouldn’t fall. I remember in late summer my mother and I took the bus to where I would be going to high school. We went to buy my uniform. The room had all sorts of racks of uniform pieces in different sizes. We bought the skirt, the blazer and two blouses. I remember a Sunday in January, 1969 when there was a knocking at the door. I looked down the stairs at the front door and saw the postman and wondered why he was there on a Sunday. He handed me a special delivery letter congratulating me on being accepted into the Peace Corps. I don’t remember the wording of the letter. I just remember the mailman.

My memory drawers are stuffed. They go as far back as I do. Random unbidden memories sometimes jump out and take me by surprise. I’ll close my eyes and see the time, the place and the people who gave me those memories. I love those moments of remembering.