Today is another delightful day, sunny and warm. It will reach 75°. A few clouds dot the pale, blue sky, but the sun still streams. I have nothing on my dance card. I’m glad for the quiet day. I’ll fill the bird feeders and water the deck plants. That’s it.

When I was a kid, our neighborhood was seldom quiet. Every house had kids, and they played outside. A hill dominated the backyards. Each house took care to mow the patch of grass nearest them on the hill. We had one grass fanatic. She was one of the few to use a power mower. She mowed in rows and mowed a square on the hill behind her clothesline. In her mind, the square was her hill grass property border. If anyone walked on her square, she always yelled for the transgressor to get off the hill. We figured she kept guard through the kitchen window. All the kids laughed at her and made fun of her behind her back, but she did have the greenest, most well-kept hill grass.

My father loved his grass. He always mowed it in the same pattern. Saturday was mowing day. I can still hear and remember the clicking sound of the blades as he mowed up and down the lawn and around the bushes in the side yard which had the biggest patch of grass. The last house they lived in had a front lawn. When I’d visit, my father always asked if I’d seen how great his grass looked. “It’s the best lawn you’ve ever had,” I’d tell him.

Dinner last night was fun. I had everything ready so I could sit and enjoy my friends. We started on the deck. The night was quiet. I had a fire lit in my chiminea. The burning piñon wood filled the air with its sweet aroma. We noshed on a charcuterie board and sat for a while. The dogs were good. They even fell asleep on the deck. We moved inside for dinner which was pesto lemon shrimp fettuccini and crispy bread. For dessert we had cannolis. We sat eating and talking and laughing for the longest time.

Dinner was delicious but being with old friends was the best part of the evening.

Some days seem just perfect. Yesterday was one of those. I had my uke lesson, and it was fun playing new music. I got gas, seemingly a mundane task, but the sun was shining, and the trees were gently swaying. I was glad to sit and watch. I stopped at the dump on the way home and chatted with the man who always helps to empty my trunk. We both loved the weather. I also stopped for a blood test, a common event. I was the only one there, an uncommon event. I got home, and it wasn’t even noon yet, a boon. Even though I only did mostly errands, I felt quite content. It was just one of those mornings when everything fit.

Friends are coming for dinner. This doesn’t happen often. I have my shopping list and my flow chart. My house is clean. The floors are sparkling, and for the meanwhile, the spiders’ webs are gone. I have yet to prep the dogs. That will be the toughest task.

Before I left for Ghana, my mother and I went shopping. I was packing for two years. I had a list of suggested items. I was allotted eighty pounds of luggage. We had to buy two sets of sheets and a couple of towels. We bought dresses because women wore dresses in public. We bought cotten underwear, packages and packages, as was suggested. The list of toiletries was long. I had a couple of pairs of sandals. I had pictures of my family. I brought a couple of books. I remember one was The Autobiography of Malcolm X. My parents bought me luggage, an Instamatic camera and slide film. The luggage was red. I had to send the film home to be developed as there was no place in Ghana.

It didn’t take long to realize how useless the list had been. It said not to bring spices as Ghana had plenty. The only spice Ghana had was hot pepper. I brought too many clothes. Ghanaian cloth was beautiful and inexpensive. Seamstresses charged little. Within the first six months, I wore only dresses I had had made. My sandals fell apart in the heat and humidity. I had them resoled in the market. They used pieces of tires for soles. I left tread marks. My deodorant caused boils. I could buy shampoo and toothpaste. We got a medical kit. I didn’t need to empty the drug store selves. I had an umbrella. Ghanaians only used umbrellas to be protected from the sun. I never used mine. I had an alarm clock, but it was unnecessary. The roosters crowed, and in the early morning, my students swept the school compound outside my window.

Well, it is time to get a move on. I have company coming!