As the White Rabbit said, “I’m late. I’m late. I’m late for a very important date.” Scratch the important date, and the rest is mine. First, I got up late, after ten, and, still being in the sloth mode, I took my time. I made coffee and read the paper. I had two cups of coffee then some toast, rye toast. After that, I paid bills. I’m still in pain. I grocery shopped for delivery. Now I’m here.

If this were winter, I’d be hibernating; instead, I’m a hermit by circumstance. I could be the star of a 50’s science fiction movie entitled The Only Woman Alive. Tuesday was the last time I was out, the last time I interacted with people. It was uke practice. Since then, I have been home with a cat and two dogs. I find myself correcting the TV out loud but don’t worry. It never answers back. I correct grammar, continuity mistakes and I scoff. I watch movies and old TV shows. I am entertained.

The early morning was chilly. It rained last night for a bit. We have an every now and then strong breeze. Right now it is 64°. The sun is disappearing and reappearing. The dogs are having their morning naps. Soon enough it will be time for their afternoon naps. After that they’ll eat then have their evening naps. They’ll go to bed when I do. It’s a dog’s life has a new meaning.

When I was a kid, we had only a small front garden below the picture window. My father planted petunias or pansies. I loved the multi-colored pansies with all their faces and their bonnets. That’s what I saw.

I used to have cut out paper dolls. They were always in their underwear. The clothes had small tabs at the top so you could put them on the dolls. Each page had a different set of clothes like winter clothes with jackets and boots, summer clothes like shorts and bathing suits and fancy dresses, party clothes. I had to use big, real scissors to cut out the clothes as kid’s scissors weren’t sharp enough to go around on the lines to cut out the clothes and save the tabs. I remember I’d sometimes glue a popsicle stick on the back of the dolls because it was easier to play with them. They were great stocking stuffers and Easter basket gifts.

My errand list is overwhelming with no car. The trash alone is giving me hives, okay not really, but you get the point. I need my hair cut and my blood drawn. I need my garden flowers. I keep looking on line but haven’t yet found a car. That really is giving me hives!

We had light rain last night for a little while. It left the morning damp and the sky cloudy. A slight breeze ruffles the leaves every now and then. More rain is predicted for today. It is a perfect sloth day to stay home and be lazy.

I have always had a great memory. Sometimes I remember in words. Other times I remember in images. As I’ve gotten older, though, I’ve had to rely more on images as the words are harder to remember, harder to find. Those missing words eventually come to mind but often too late to be helpful. As for images, they stay. Even after all these years, I can still close my eyes and see my walk to school, what houses I passed and how the sidewalk was shaded by overhanging branches. I can count the houses along the street. I can see them all.

When I was in the eighth grade, the infamous Sister Hildegard made us memorize the Declaration of Independence, the Gettysburg Address and the Bill of Rights. Each of us had to stand and recite the parts we’d memorized until we had finished with each document. The Gettysburg Address was the easiest to memorize followed by the Bill of Rights. The Declaration of Independence took a long while. Somehow she kept track of our progress. It was easy for me.

In Ghana, my school was off the main road. Between the school and town there were fields and a few buildings. I used to walk to town to shop on market day. It was downhill into town and uphill back. I still remember the road, the kiosks and the buildings. I can close my eyes and see the post office, the bank, the Super Service Inn, the small kiosks selling canned goods like butter and a few veggies, the book store, the aunties selling food along the sides of the road, the entrances to the market and the few spots to rest a bit and have a Coke. It has changed over the years, but I still remember how it was. I think of that as a gift.

I store things in usual places figuring usual will help me remember where those things are when I need them. Sometimes, though, I go to those usual places and don’t find what I want. I had put them somewhere else, somewhere safe. My memory had failed me, but then an imagine, a snapshot, jumps into my head, and I remember. I get my stuff, use it and then put it back in a safe place.