“Never miss a party…good for the nerves–like celery.”
Posted June 6, 2023 by katryCategories: Uncategorized
The morning is warmer than I expected. It is in the high 60’s. Rain is predicted for this afternoon. The sun was out a short while ago, but the clouds have returned. The dogs have been in and out most of the morning. I was watching a YouTube video earlier. It showed a mare and her foal in the pasture for the first time. The mare was eating grass, and the foal was running circles around her mother. Nala noticed and watched TV until the video was finished then she curled up and took a short nap.
Today is D-Day. My mother once had a D-Day party. In the living room was a large map showing all the landing beaches. The movie D-Day was playing on TV. There were WWII decorations in the living room and the dining room. The house was crowded, mostly in the kitchen. That happened every time my mother hosted a party. The bar was on the counter, the back door was open and the room was filled with smoke. The dining room table groaned under the weight of the dishes. Most of the guests were relatives though one of my mother’s school friends always attended. She used to sit at the same place around the kitchen table every time she visited. I can picture her with a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Singing was always a part of every party. At this one they sang songs popular during the war years. Even I knew the words.
When my muse is on hiatus, I like to fall back on some stories about Ghana and my travels in West Africa. Even writing that line, travels in West Africa, still amazes me. Anyway, what prompted today’s stories was something I read in the Cape Times about Burkina Faso, Upper Volta in my day. The country, once wonderfully peaceful, has had two coups in the last year. The government, Al-Quaida and the Islamic State control different areas. 2 Million people have been internally displaced. I mourn for the country I visited often.
Ougadougou, the capital, was where I’d often go for the weekend. I could sleep in a wonderfully air-conditioned hotel room for little money, eat at restaurants and shop the market. For breakfast I’d have a baguette and a Yukka soda, sold by small boys on bicycles with giant baskets. The Yukka was green or red. The taste was the same. I alternated. On one trip, over New Year’s, all Peace Corps volunteers visiting the city were invited to the ambassador’s house for New Year’s Eve. It was the most spectacular party I’d ever attended. I saw foods I hadn’t see in nearly two years. There was champagne served by stewards wearing white jackets and white gloves. The tables were filled and so was my plate. Most of the ladies wore long dresses and the men wore tuxedos. I was totally underdressed, but I didn’t care and neither did the ambassador. I stayed until midnight and sing Auld Lang Syne with gusto.
My dance card is heavy with uke: practice, a lesson and concerts at the farmer’s market and Chatham Airport. It’s a big week.
“If you cannot get rid of the family skeleton, you may as well make it dance.”
Posted June 5, 2023 by katryCategories: Musings
The rain started last night. It is still raining on and off and will continue to rain through tomorrow. It is another chilly day.
My kitchen floor is covered in paw prints. They lead from the door to the hall. They drive me crazy but cleaning them would be an exercise in futility, the old rock up the hill. I’ll just have to close my eyes when I walk into the kitchen.
I loved puddles when I was a kid. I used to walk in the gutters filled with flowing water and shuffle or stomp my feet as I walked. I never minded the soddened shoes and soaked bottoms of my pant legs, but my mother did.
We stayed inside our classrooms if it rained, no recess, no chance to run around after lunch. We were allowed to talk and move around the room, a rare event, an inside recess. The rest of the school day went slowly.
My dance card for the week has uke events and this Friday is the first play. It will be a busy June.
When I watch old movies, I always check the cast to see if I recognize any names. Sometimes a familiar name is way back in the credits, but mostly I don’t know the actors, even the stars. Out of curiosity I sometimes look up a few of those unknown actors. Often I can’t even find them.
Yesterday I did little. I read the papers, swept a couple of rooms and chased Nala to wrest the branches from her mouth. She was leaving bark all around the house. Today she is carrying an empty water bottle. She likes the crinkling sound.
I don’t know much about my grandfather’s life. He was never a man to chat. I don’t even think my dad knew much about his father’s family. We knew my grandfather’s family came from Ireland. His father’s name was Patrick. He was rumored to have been an alcoholic. I have pictures of my grandmother and her siblings and of my grandfather with her so we do know about her family, a big family. When I was young, I met her mother, one of her brothers and a couple of her sisters. It wasn’t until long after my grandfather had died that we found out he had a brother. That’s about all we know.
