Keep the Coffee Comimg

Today has a bit of a burden being Friday the 13th. Though I don’t think of myself as superstitious, the day does give me pause so I’ll not walk under a ladder or open an umbrella in the house. I’ll have to keep an eye on Jack, my black cat.

Yesterday I did my to do. I was exhausted. I brought up the two storm door windows by moving them corner to corner and one stair at a time. I then cleaned the glasses and hoisted the windows onto the doors. Those glass sections were so heavy I was surprised I didn’t break one of them or parts of me. Next, I dragged out boxes of fall and halloween decorations. They were under other boxes which had to be moved first. I then brought the boxes upstairs and decorated parts of three rooms. I still have two more boxes to rummage through as I’m missing my monsters, my crows and my rats.

I have some new cardboard decorations. They remind me of the cardboard figures we had when I was a kid. We used to tape them to the picture window in the living room. One new figure, a skeleton, is exactly like the one we used to have. Its arms and legs can be moved. The other is a witch whose arms around her broom can be moved. I also have a pumpkin and a black cat. I have a heavy cardboard pumpkin bowl with short sides. I put that on the table in the living room. Later, I heard something landing on the floor in the dining room. I investigated. It was that bowl. Ghosts?

Hung on my front storm door is a skeleton dressed in a nun’s habit. It always reminds me of my aunt the nun. I even call the skeleton Aunt Helen. I swear the habit looks exactly as hers did when she wore one except there is no rosary around the skeleton’s waist. It would bang against the glass.

I love the old black and white horror moves. I have a collection of all the greats: Frankenstein, Dracula, The Wolfman, The Invisible Man and the Mummy. They get me into the spirit.

Today is shot day, three of them.

Today is another perfect fall day. We have a bright sun, and the temperature is 66 degrees. The tallest leaves on the trees in the back of the yard are shining in the sunlight, and an every now and then bit of a breeze stirs them. Nala is lying in the sun in her favorite spot. She comes inside panting.

When I was a kid, I walked when I couldn’t ride my bike. I had to walk to and from school. I’d walk uptown to the movie theater on Saturdays. I walked to church on Sundays. I didn’t complain unless it was raining. I hated to spend the day in school with wet, squishy shoes and wet, stringy hair. Back then, my mother didn’t know how to drive so we only had the one car, the one my father drove to work everyday. My mother didn’t learn to drive until we lived on the cape, but when she did, it didn’t matter much to me. I still walked to school everyday.

Every summer when I was in college, I worked at the Hyannis post office. We temps were hired so the regulars could get weekends free. I sorted mail. Behind the sales windows was the open floor where we sorted at different stations for different places. I first worked the main board where all the mail was sorted into stations for further sorting. I was quick so I often ended up with the postcards. I swear there were thousands of post cards on each two foot storage tray, but the problem wasn’t the number. It was the post mark. Because the post cards were thin, they went through the cancelling machine in piles. The top one would be the only one cancelled. I used to throw the uncanceled ones on the floor below my feet. The foreman would pick them up. He never complained to me. He was just happy I’d agree to sort them.

I don’t have a to do list. That seems to be such a burden, sort of being obligated. I might do, but I might not do.