The morning is partly sunny. It is a still morning, not even the hanging leaves are moving. It will again be in the 50’s during the day and the 40’s at night. Winter has yet to hold sway.

Henry is driving me to distraction. He goes out the dog door but still won’t come back inside through the door. He stands with his face peering through the door, and he cries. He even bangs the door a few times with his nose. I try to stand my ground and not open the door for him, but I don’t always succeed. I try to entice him by showing him treats, but that doesn’t usually work. My, “Come on, Henry,” doesn’t work either. I don’t know what happened to make him nervous coming inside. Henry does have several phobias.

Today is a Ghana day. I was looking through the pictures last night and was flooded with memories, small memories, mostly insignificant memories which I somehow remember.

I remember the flight with a stop in Madrid for refueling and a new crew. We got off the plane for a short time until we were quickly herded back to the plane. We mooed. When I got back on the plane, my seatbelt was stuck. I never did buckle my seatbelt. The new stewardess asked us if we wanted breakfast or more drinks. We opted for the drinks. Before we landed, a stewardess went up the aisle giving us the rest of the nips from the cart. I saved mine for the longest time. I remember in the terminal watching the crew buy leather and beaded goods at the stalls in the airport. Pan Am flew the Ghana route, but we had flown in a TWA charter so the crew was in Africa for the first time. I remember the welcome and toasts with warm Fanta, orange Fanta. I fell asleep on the bus ride to Winneba, our first training site. That first night, Peace Corps gave us a welcome party. 

In Winneba I saw my first palm tree, rows of palm trees. I remember we all went to greet the chief of Winneba. It was customary. I wondered what the Ghanaians thought watching so many white people, well over 100, walking down the street to the chief’s house. We were an odd sort of parade.

Training lasted nearly three months, and those first two weeks were the hardest. They are front and center in my memory drawer of that summer. I will never forget.

Today is like yesterday, sunny, clear and in the 50’s, still fall. The nights, though, have started to feel like winter, in the 30’s. My blanket is back on the bed. The dogs huddle beside me at night, Nala under the covers. We all fall asleep cozy and warm.

When I was a little kid, my mother decided when it was time for winter coats, when layering wasn’t enough. We all dreaded that day. The coats were heavy. They didn’t fit in the cloak room. We had to either zip or button our coats at the end of the day which took time and concentration. I remember sometimes, when I zipped, one end hung lower than the other, a zipper failure. Buttons were just a bit easier.

My school was old. The classrooms with their high ceilings were always a bit chilly. Radiators on the back wall hissed and steamed. The windows fogged. I wore a sweater over my uniform. We were allowed. I wore knee socks and sometimes pink underwear which went to my knees. We still had recess on cold days. We huddled in groups. We tried to stay warm. The end of recess bell was welcomed.

I don’t wear a winter coat. I do have one, but it sits in the closet waiting for the next ice age. My winter wear includes hoodies or a fleece top or a really heavy sweater, saved for the coldest winter days. I like my mittens better than my gloves. They keep my hands warmer. I have hats but don’t often wear them. My favorite is one from high school, one a friend’s grandmother knitted. My next favorite I bought in Peru. It has ear flaps. I bought it because when I got to Peru it was winter. I also have a few scarves. My favorite is red. I wear it just for the color.

I’m envious of bears. All summer and fall they get to eat and drink nonstop. They need to gain weight. I’m always trying to lose it. They get to sleep all winter. I aspire to do that.

Today is dump day. Perhaps I need a banner for my front lawn.