Keep the Coffee Comimg

The sun is here again. It will be a partly cloudy day. It will also be a cold day. It is my cleaning day. The dust is taking over. Every surface is covered. My sensibilities can’t take it anymore.

When I was in the eighth grade, President Kennedy signed the Peace Corps bill. “The toughest job you’ll ever love,” was part of all the TV public service announcements. I knew right then I’d go into into the Peace Corps. Eight years later I did.

My house in Ghana was on school grounds and was one side of a duplex. It was a brand new house. A living room, two bedrooms and an eating area were the inside rooms. Flanked around the concrete yard in the back were the kitchen with the stove and a shelf unit for storage, a shower, cold water only, a toilet, aka a nesting spot for the chickens, and an extra room where Thomas, my Ghanaian factotum, lived. The house was furnished, and I had a fridge, inside. I seldom used the stove, no gas. The house was by the back gate and across from the school garden. It was the last in a line of staff housing stretching from the front gate to the back gate. The school had a night watchman, but he slept a lot. When the gate was closed at night, I had to climb over. Scaling a fence in a dress and sandals is never easy.

I learned amazing things in Ghana. I could easily choose the good eggs over the bad. I learned to pluck a chicken. In the market, I bargained. Mammy lorries were the cheapest way to travel but not very far because the seats were like wooden stadium seats, and you had to climb up then shift your leg over the side to sit on them. I got adept at lorry climbing. I learned to eat t-zed, a blob made from millet, and soup, with my right hand without dripping and making a mess. When I went back to Ghana after so many years, my first meal was fufu, a Southern Ghanaian dish, and soup. I ate with my hand. I did not make a mess.

People were screaming and running amok through the streets. They feared for their lives. What is that flaming ball of fire? Are we doomed? Don’t worry I told them. It is the sun. It has returned. The day is bright and pretty. The sky is blue. Both, though, are deceiving. It is cold, 33° cold. The wind is blowing. The pine branches are swaying. It is a day to bundle.

Today is a mishmash.

On my kitchen bookcase are bobble heads triggered by the sun. Their heads haven’t moved in days. This morning, after I opened the door to let the dogs out, the sun hit those heads. All of them are bobbling. I can hear the clicks as they move.

When I was a kid, Sunday was special. The big stores were closed. Corner stores, donut shops and some restaurants were all that were open. People stayed close to home. It was a family day. It was a quiet day. My father always brought home donuts after he ushered at mass. I had cocoa with my donut.

My wardrobe was divided into play clothes, church clothes and school clothes. The school clothes were a uniform of a blue skirt, white blouse and blue tie, the sort you’d wear at a square dance. Church clothes were a dress or a skirt and a blouse. Play clothes were just about anything else.

I wore two piece pajamas to bed. In the winter, they were flannel. In the summer, they were cotton. For Christmas, they were always brand new.

I was never without a book. I sneaked one into church and hid it between the pages of the mass book. I looked reverent with all my attention directed to the mass responses and hymns, but I was really reading about Trixie Belden and her detecting. In school, I’d hide the books in textbooks. Instead of studying science, I went somewhere else. I was quite adept and never got caught.

My mother taught me to tie my shoes. I remember sitting on the floor by the arm of the chair. She showed me a few times how to tie the bow. My first attempts were failures. The bow was too loose and fell apart, but the more I tied it, the better I got. I can honestly say I now tie a tight bow.

My mother also taught me how to ride a bike. I remember we were on Prospect Street. She held on to the back of the seat. The bike wobbled. I tried to maintain my balance but failed. I tried again and again, but I did it. I rode off into the sunset.