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.

While the coffee was brewing, we, the dogs and I, watched the birds from the deck as they flew in and out of the feeders. A couple of the feeders need to be refilled. The birds are eating me out of house and home. I have only a small bag of sunflower seeds left. I noticed a mourning dove this morning. I’ll have to get mixed seeds and throw some below the deck as doves are ground feeders.

Last night was cold. I shut all the windows and wore a sweatshirt. I was glad the dogs snuggled while we were in bed. This morning I checked the weather for the week. The heat will be back on Thursday and Friday. The sweatshirt will be put away and the windows reopened for the meantime.

My walk to school wasn’t very far. In my mind’s eye I can see everything on that walk, the walk I took going and coming for eight years. Most of it was a straightaway. Older houses lined the sidewalk. Maple trees shaded the walk. I remember one house, probably the oldest house, was below the height of the sidewalk. A set of steps led down to the house. I always wondered how the house got there. I crossed the tracks, the same tracks I sometimes walked which led to the station. I only had to cross one road before I arrived at school.

When I was a kid, I ate some vegetables. I loved corn, even creamy corn which spread across my plate. I ate peas but only baby peas. Carrots were hidden, mixed with mashed potatoes. I never questioned the color of the potatoes. We ate canned beans, yellow and green, and French green beans. I loved potatoes of any sort, especially mashed. We ate French fries mostly on Friday nights with the fish sticks. My father ate canned asparagus. It always flopped over on his fork. He never did like fresh asparagus.

When I was a kid, the future was the next day or, if I was being farsighted, the weekend. The only times I was keeping track of days were the countdowns before Halloween and before Christmas. I’m sort of back to that now. I keep a dance card of events for the week. That is as far in the future as I need to know. Time takes care of itself.