I’m back! Greasing the fingers of WordPress had my site up and running in only a couple of hours. I was finally able to exhale. I admit I did panic a bit to think it was all gone. I wish I could have started earlier. It was a sunny lovely morning then, not so now. The sky is cloudy and rain is predicted so the kitchen floor will stay dirty. I’ll just close my eyes when I walk into the kitchen.

I am cooking chicken in the big frying pan with a cover. I learned my lesson when Nala stole a chicken breast right out of the pan.

I have never been a cruise person, but there have been two exceptions. One was the cruise ship which went through the Miraflores lock of the Panama Canal. My mother chose that cruise because the ship was old, small and went through the canal. She knew I’d jump on board(sorry!). The ship had been built in the 1950’s. It had been refurbished a bit as a casino and a movie theater were added. The railings and the outside walkways were teak. There was only one dining room, but there were also other spots for food. I used to get up early and eat breakfast up top right by the outside doors and the ocean. I’d eat with my brother in law Rod also an early riser. That ship stopped at Cartagena, Columbia, and we all got off. I took a tour then went on my own to roam. It also stopped at the San Blas Islands. I went snorkeling and then checked out the big island. I left the center of town and followed a dirt road. I found a village. They were a bit surprised to see me. I was invited into a house and went inside to meet the family. We did a lot of pointing as we had no language in common. I woke up at 3:30 in the morning to watch us go through the canal. The shore was so lit up it was as bright as day. The ship was guided through the canal mules, electronic locomotives named after the actual mules on the Erie Canal. It was spectacular. We stopped at the Gatun Lake, a freshwater artificial lake which is part of the canal. I went swimming. I bought a t-shirt which said I swam in the Panama Canal.

My other cruise I’ll save for another day. I will tell you it was in South America from Paraguay to Argentina.

My dance card is uke heavy this week with practice, a lesson and three concerts. My only free day is tomorrow. I think I’ll nap.

The sun is bright, and I can see blue sky. The wind is softer now. It is in the mid-50’s, about right for spring on Cape Cod. Gardens are filled with color. My forsythia has bloomed. Its yellow is almost eye-squinting bright. Today is a pretty day.

Saturday has always been the sweetest day. When I was a kid, it was the Saturday matinee in winter while, during the rest of the year, it was whatever struck my fancy. Sometimes I walked and sometimes I rode my bike. My mother knew not to ask where I was going as I often didn’t know. I had favorite places like the zoo, the town’s horse barn, window shopping up town, the golf course to hunt for the errant balls and Weiss farm. I liked to watch the cows. When I was older, I usually spent the day doing little. It was at night when my friends and I would get together. Sometimes we went to the movies. Sometimes we went bowling. I was a terrible bowler. I remember wandering in Harvard Square. I used to check out the kiosk in the middle of the square. I’d look at the newspapers from out of town and the magazines from everywhere. We used to eat at the Wursthaus. I always thought it a bit exotic with its German food.

In Ghana Saturday night was the best night. It was entertainment night. Sometimes we watched a movie a USAID guy would leave. I remember Great Expectations which my students didn’t understand. The English was too quick for their ears. I had to answer a million questions. The best night was tribal dancing night. The tribes were scattered around the school compound. My favorites were the northern tribes, like the FraFra, the tribe in Bolga. Their dancing was energetic and joyful. They clapped and sang. The tribes from the south, especially the Ashanti, were graceful and subdued. In the school cafeteria the students from other countries danced with each other to records. I remember them playing Say It Loud I am Black and Proud over and over and singing along.

Now, most Saturdays, I have no plans. I let my inner sloth freak flag fly.