Keep the Coffee Comimg

We are still in that weird weather pattern of lovely spring days and wintry cold nights. Last night there was a frost warning. The dogs snuggled with me in bed. Nala’s head was on my arm and Henry was next to my legs. I had the least amount of room.

Speaking of Nala, I have a story. On Tuesday night, around one, Henry came inside but not Nala. I heard her barking, and Nala is not a barker. I went out to the deck to check on her. She was frantically trying to get under the chair covers. I knew she had a creature cornered. I tried to block her but lost. Nala ran off the deck with the creature in her mouth. I could see bulk and grey and knew she had a possum. I wanted to save it but Nala didn’t cooperate. She ran. I went inside and shut the outside door as I didn’t want Henry out there. I knew if he got close to Nala and her prey she’d attack him. I sat in the den while Henry cried and ran up and down the hall. I kept checking out the door window for Nala. She appeared on the stairs but the possum was with her. She did that 4 or 5 times. I told her that if she didn’t come inside I was going to leave her out. She, of course, didn’t listen. Finally at about 2:30 Nala came in alone, and I let Henry out. He came inside and we all went to bed. The next morning they went out, and Nala didn’t find her possum.

When I was a kid, our boxer Duke was protective. He’d stand his ground if any one approached. Sometimes he’d bare his teeth. He was scary looking, but that was a pose, and we knew it but strangers didn’t.

I remember a trip to Benson’s Wild Animal Farm in New Hampshire. I have memories, some mine, some my mothers. I remember the elephant ride. The elephant sort of swayed from side to side. I remember thinking how high we were. We watched the monkeys for a long while. They were in a huge round cage. My brother got close. A monkey grabbed his arm and tried to pull him into the cage. I was all for it, but my father saved him. The next memory my mother told me. They were watching the big apes and one was spraying the crowd who were laughing at getting wet. My parents saw him pee then slop it into his mouth. That was what he sprayed. That was one smart animal spraying at not so smart animals.

If I just look out the window, I’d see a lovely day, but the sight of the sun and blue sky doesn’t take note of the cold. It is a sweatshirt or even a fleece day. There is a frost warning for tonight.

Yesterday I decided to face the closet in here, the den, to look for a frame. This closet is chock full of puzzles, games, photo albums, bric-a-brac and so much more. It is a giant junk drawer. I found neat things, including the frame, but I also found treasures. I found my Peace Corps passport. It has my residency permit and is filled with visas. I almost don’t recognize the picture of my young self, my so very young self. One page has writing on it. I remember being at the border between what was then Upper Volta and Ghana trying to enter without a visa. It had expired. The border guard let me in and wrote I was only going for the weekend in my passport. I also found the passport I had during my South American trip. It too is filled with visas. I can follow my route through my visas.

The best thing I found was an aerogram I had sent from Ghana, and my mother had saved. The pages and the sides are numbered and filled with tiny writing. In the first paragraph I mention that this is my first full day in Ghana. The date is June 30, 1969. It was 1:30 PM Ghana time. The letter is a chronicle. I write about the beauty of Ghana and about a walk I took through Winneba where we were staying and the surprise of hearing drums from one of the compounds. I gave a schedule of my first days of training starting at 6:30 with language and ending at 6:00 for supper. I love we had a tea break at 3:30. I do remember the tea and giant rolls. I talked about the first supper dish which looked like matted seaweed, even barf. It was made out of the leaves of a tree, palm oil and some sort of fish. I suspect it was kontomire. Later I found out they were cocoyam leaves. I never did have a fondness for kontomire. I mentioned I had been given my assignment in the far north and was going to learn Hausa.

So many memories flooded back as I read and reread this letter. In my mind’s eye I could see it all, the school, the town and the palm trees, my first ever palm trees, but most of all I remember the people, my fellow trainees and the Ghanaians with their welcoming kindnesses.