Of course it might rain today and will definitely rain tomorrow because I washed the kitchen floor yesterday. I also washed the hall floor. I should have realized rain is inevitable. Right now it is cloudy and about 50°. That will stay today’s weather.

I used to like comic books. Classics Illustrated comics were favorites. I got to see illustrated in color the plots of the books I had read. I remember Kidnapped more than others though I don’t know why. I used to go to Woolworth’s. Right near the door was a circular holder filled with comics. I’d spin it a few times trying to figure out the best choice for my dime. I remember one comic I bought was Spin and Marty from the Mickey Mouse Club. Another was Superman. I wish I still had those.

When I was a kid, I was afraid of almost nothing except maybe the guy with the hook. My father told us that story. I believed him. I was never out after dark, not out of fear but because my life happened in the daytime. On weekdays I was in school. Sunday was the Lord’s day, church day. Saturday was the only day which was mine.

I’ve never understood why mostly girls scream at spiders. Spiders mind their own business. They weave webs and hunt flies and moths. I used to watch them. I knew they bit but I was never worried. Really, who could be afraid of Charlotte?

In the movie The Fly, a man tries to teleport. What he didn’t know was a fly was in the machine with him. They, the fly and the man, merge. The man’s body has a fly’s head and one leg. The fly gets the man’s head and arm. It flies out of the house and gets caught in a spider’s web. That scene is one of my favorites. As the top half, the man half, cries, “Help me! Help me!,” from in the web, the spider advances toward him. The spider looks enormous. The fly-man looks tiny. It is a scary scene if you’re afraid of spiders. I’ll leave the plot there and not describe the sudden demise of the fly-man. I’ll just let you know it wasn’t the spider.

The sun is elsewhere. Today will be cloudy all day. It will be in the 50’s. I’ll be home. I have everything I need, even a Snickers bar.

My downstairs bathroom is decorated with school stuff. I have no idea why I chose that motif. The extra towels are kept in a small roll up desk. A wooden chalkboard is down and holds a pencil box, an old ruler, a small globe the bank used to give away and a blue tin jar which once held Ding Dong School paint. The top of the board has a roller, and you can change the paper decoration. I do that. There are old school pictures of places and people I don’t know hanging on the walls. My favorite picture is one hung on the wall below the medicine cabinet. It isn’t an original but rather a copy. It is the graduation picture of my eighth grade class dressed to the nines. We are seated in front of the statue in front of the convent. The boys are all wearing suits, and most of the girls are wearing fluffy dresses, even me who didn’t like fluff. The original picture was rolled for probably hundreds of years, okay an exaggeration, but it did stayed rolled long enough so the picture was cracked when you unrolled it. I went to the photo shop and had it reproduced. You can see white lines which are the cracks, but they don’t hide the picture. I can still identify many of my classmates.

When I was a kid, we went to the drive-in many summer Saturday nights. My grandfather had a pass so we got in free. My father made bug juice and popcorn and bought a few candy bars. The first picture was always suitable for kids. The second was more adult because most kids fell sleep. We got out of the car during intermission to go to the playground in front of the concession stand. All the kids wore pajamas. What I remember most was we left early. My father hated waiting in traffic so we left before the end of the movie. I remember looking out the window wistfully. I remember wondering who the murderer was.