The rain has stopped. The morning is cloudy and damp. We have pre-spring temperatures, in the mid 40’s. The dogs are content to stay inside. Henry is napping on my bed upstairs while Nala is here the couch. The house is quiet.  

 Nothing much is happening. I have no plans, no necessary chores. Yesterday I watered plants and cleaned the den. That was more than enough.

When I was young, my mother read to me. She read me Golden Books and fairy tales. My favorite story was Chicken Little, aka Henny Penny. The story starts with her panic after she is hit on the head by a falling pinecone, “The sky is falling!” She goes to tell the king, and, on the way, tells all the animals she meets on the road. The animals have the best names like Turkey Lurky, Goosey Loosey, Ducky Lucky and Foxy Loxy. That last one was a mistake. Foxy Loxy ate all the other animals. I remember the whole book except for the ending, the eating part. Maybe my mother didn’t read it to me or maybe the horror erased it from my memory.

I loved fairy tales. The ones I remember most had happy endings. the good guys won. Most, though, were a bit violent, but I cheered because the bad guys got what they deserved. Hansel and Gretel’s witch was going to eat them. Gretel tricked the witch who ended up on the oven. The Three Little Pigs hoodwinked the fox who was looking for dinner. The Billy Goats Gruff did in the troll who was waiting to eat a goat. Little Red Riding Hood’s wolf was hoping to dine on Little Red. Some fairy tales didn’t end in dinner like The Ugly Duckling, Snow White and Cinderella, but there were trials and tribulations they had to endure. 

 I read all the classics. I read the three Little books: Little Women, Little Men and Jo’s Boys. I was a Robert Lewis Stephenson fan. My favorite was Treasure Island, but a close second was Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I think it was my first horror book. Robinson Crusoe, The Secret Garden and so many more were in personal library. My favorite of all was The Wind in the Willows. I still have a copy.

Every now and then I read one of those books again. Treasure Island was the last one I read. When I was young, the characters and the action held me enthralled. Now I appreciate how the metaphors, the similes and the imagery deepen the language, the descriptions of places and people. Long John Silver is the best character but the most treacherous character. I remember my shock when I found out he was a bad guy. 

I think I might just read Kidnapped next.

Today is chilly and cloudy. Rain is predicted. The temperature is in the mid 40’s, today’s high. My house is warm. The furnace is blasting lovely hot air. The fix was easy. He turned on a switch I had turned off without noticing when I was hanging a picture. I was that old woman oblivious to the world at large or at least to the outlet on the wall. 

My inner sloth has full rein today. I watch the dust balls fly into the air when I walk down the hall, and I don’t care. The dogs and I are on the couch. They are sleeping, breathing deeply. My feet are up on the table. It is just one of those days. 

My jigsaw puzzle is still in progress, but I am at the point where I can pick up a piece and generally know exactly where it goes. I’m hoping to finish this weekend. 

When I was in Ghana, Peace Corps had Range Rovers, the sort you’d see in National Geographic pictures crossing the desert in caravans. I hitched a ride a few times. The Range Rover always seemed exotic to me, a vehicle for adventures, for faraway places. 

My house has a deck but I’d also like a front porch. On the Andy Griffith show every Sunday after dinner, Andy, Barney and Aunt Bee settled on the porch. Barney was still wearing his church suit, his really ugly church suit. Andy would bring his guitar, and they’d sing. Neighbors would walk by and they’d say, “Hey!” The porch was neighborly. 

When I was a kid, my clothes were functional, not fashionable. I had school clothes, church clothes and play clothes. My school clothes were a uniform. My church clothes were usually a skirt and a blouse. My winter play clothes were pants and warm shirts. My summer play clothes were shorts and sleeveless blouses. In Ghana I had to wear dresses. I had most of my dresses made there with Ghanaian cloth. For the first time, I was fashionable. 

I don’t intend to move much this weekend. My longest walk will be between the den and the kitchen either to let Henry in or to get myself food and drink. If I get tired, I’ll rest in between.