Today will be summer hot at 75°. It is a bright, lovely morning. Everything is still. Last night was cool, perfect for sleeping. The house still holds the chill.

The spiders’ webs have taken over. They stretch from corner to corner, across plant fronds, on the stairs and at the bottoms of chair legs. I keep moving.

I am a railroad fan. That love started when I was a kid and rode the subway with my mother. We’d take the bus to Sullivan Square from uptown then board the subway. I remember standing on the platform as close to the tracks as my mother allowed. I’d watch for the train. It came with a whoosh of wind. I always knelt on the seat so I could look out the window. I remember the squeal of the breaks when the train stopped at a station.

I didn’t take a passenger train until Ghana where I rode the train every place I could. Mostly I’d travel from Accra to Kumasi where the train tracks ended. I always traveled first class which didn’t cost a whole lot. I’d sit in my own compartment which had a glass door and a huge window next to the comfy chair. Harry Potter’s train reminded me of the Ghanaian train. At every stop, people came to the window trying to sell us food like bread, fruit and mystery meat kabobs. I always bought something. Once I took an overnight train. I had my own compartment with a pull down bed and a sink. The front of the train derailed during the night and shook me awake. We had to leave the train to walk on the tracks across a trestle bridge to the rescue train. That was my most exciting ride.

I rode trains all over Europe. The train in Finland took me to the Arctic Circle. The train from Copenhagen went across Europe to Hook of Holland. It took around 12 hours. The woman sharing our compartment was German, married to an Englishman and going home. She had a basket filled with food she shared with my friend and me. At Hook of Holland we took a ferry across the channel and picked up a train on the other side.

I rode trains in South America with spectacular views. I saw the Andes covered with snow. I saw bananas growing. The train changed directions at a switchback, at the Devil’s Nose. It was a bit scary. The most amazing ride was from Cusco to the train station below Machu Picchu. We saw Incan ruins, villages build on Incan stone, and, at one, point, I could see the front of the train from near the back. The trains were mostly just regular trains. Back, when I traveled there, few Americans did so the trains did not cater to tourists.

On my wish list, when I win the lottery, is riding the Orient Express. I hope Poirot is one of the passengers.

We have such a beautiful morning I should be breaking into song. The temperatures are perfect, 72° during the day and 57° at night, but hot weather is coming later in the week, the high 70’s, summer weather. Fall always has trouble making up its mind.

When I was a kid, my wardrobe was divided into school clothes, play clothes and church clothes. The first thing I did when I got home from school was change into play clothes because I had only one blue skirt and a couple of white blouses to last me the whole school year. That habit stayed with me even when I was an adult. I always changed as soon as I got home from school, from work. I even called them my play clothes. Now, my wardrobe is divided into outside and inside clothes. Comfort is the key.

I had a doctor’s appointment yesterday and today is the dentist. Both were and are maintenance. The older I get the larger my stable of doctors.

I keep my eggs in the fridge, but when I lived in Ghana, I didn’t. I used to buy my eggs in the market. I’d go the egg section and buy enough for a few days. I never knew how old the eggs were. At home if someone was selling eggs at my door, I’d put the eggs in a bucket of water. I bought the ones which sunk. In the market holding the egg up to the sun showed a level in the shell. My egg man lifted each egg to show me. I looked and nodded and bought each egg. I had no idea what I was looking at, but the egg man was smart. He knew I’d be back if the eggs were all good.

I remember Dick and Jane, little sister Sally, Spot the dog and Puff the cat, the characters in my first grade reading books. Jane and Sally were blond and always wore dresses. Dick had dark hair and wore shorts or pants. Spot was black and white. Puff was orange. The words in the early books were repetitious and almost singsongy. That made them easy to read. “See Spot. See Spot run. Run, Spot, run. Bow wow said Spot. Mew said Puff.”

I never liked arithmetic when I was young or math of any sort when I was older. My mind was not wired for numbers. It wanted words. I easily learned my times tables but that was memory, not skill. The nuns frowned on using fingers so I used to hide my fingers under my desk so I could count out the answers. When I was older, the problems were too complex for fingers so I was stuck using arithmetic. I have never used algebra or geometry. I have always used words.