The day is dreary. Rain is predicted for today and the next few days, but it is warmish, in the low 60’s. I have a concert this afternoon, but after that I will resume the sloth life at which I have become adept.

Today, my muse has deserted me. I keep writing then erasing when I hit a dead end. I guess this will have to be a stream of consciousness, scattered thoughts and ideas.

I remember sitting on a bus where a couple of women were facing each other at the front and chatting. One of them took took out a cigarette, lit it and absent mindedly put the wrong end in her mouth. She sputtered and spit.

I seldom sleep on planes, even long flights. I remember reading Gone with the Wind the entire flight to London. On my last trip to Accra, I read and played games on my iPad, all ten hours overnight.

My mother, sister and I went to Iceland. It was a cheap trip because it was winter. Our hotel was a short bus ride away from the center of Reykjavik. We had to wait outside for the bus. It was freezing, numbingly freezing. We wandered around the city where somehow we found an Irish pub. The Irish coffee warmed my mother.

Around the seventh or eighth week of Peace Corps training, a few of us, actually three of us, hitchhiked together to Accra for the weekend. We wandered the city getting to know it. I was carrying my pocketbook, a straw one with leather straps. It had a little bit of money, cedis, but nothing much else. I remember we were walking across a bridge when I felt a tug on my bag. A guy had grabbed one strap and was trying to steal it. I held on to the other and we both pulled in a tug of war. His strap gave and he ran off with the one strap. The two guys I was with just watched. They said I seemed to be doing just fine by myself and didn’t seem to need help.

In Finland I seldom knew what I was eating. The second language is Swedish which didn’t help. I pointed at pictures of food to order my meals. I was mostly lucky. It all tasted good. Besides, not knowing what I was eating was probably a good thing.

I backpacked through many European trips making me the typical young American traveler. Later, I used suitcases instead. I always figured that was adulthood.

I figured out long ago how to enjoy life. I still do every day.

If you checked the dictionary for fall day, you’d see a picture of today. It is 63° with a light breeze, a bright, warm sun and a cornflower blue sky with a few scattered clouds. Nala stays outside enjoying the day. Henry comes in hoping for a treat but disappointedly goes back outside to join Nala. Henry is the noisy dog. Nala is the sneaky dog.

My dance card has one item left, a uke concert tomorrow. If you’re counting, it is the 4th uke event of the week. We’re still playing cowboy songs. Yesterday I wore an old felt black cowboy hat and a bandana. The hat was once part of a cowgirl outfit. The crowd clapped and sang along. It was fun.

I’m on a peanut butter kick. I have it for breakfast and lunch. It is super chunky peanut butter. This morning I had it on the end piece of the loaf I had just opened. I put some honey on it in a decorative pattern. We all liked it. Even in Ghana I ate peanut butter sold in the market as groundnut paste, a soup starter. It was thick, bread tearing thick, so I used groundnut oil to thin it. I always had a jar of groundnut paste in the kitchen.

When I was a kid, my life was a certainty. Weekdays I went to school. What to wear was never a choice. I wore my uniform. I sat at my desk and plodded through the day. For lunch it was usually a sandwich and cookies. Both varied depending upon how close to shopping day it was. The lunch was bountiful early in the week. After school, we played on the street or in the field. We played hard. The afternoon was short.

Fall is almost in full swing. The leaves are changing. Yesterday I saw trees with red leaves and others with yellow leaves. They stood out from among the leafy green trees. Cranberries have been harvested from the bogs. The sun is sharper. At night the air is cool and even cold. Darkness comes early. My street seems to come to life at night. There are lights shining from every house. It has a cozy feel.