Keep the Coffee Comimg

Today is a lovely day, an almost perfect fall day. The sun, missing for a while, has returned. Its light glints through the trees, and I can see blue sky through the oak branches. It is 67°. Lately Nala has come into the house from the yard with wet fur. Today her fur was warm. She had been lying in the grass soaking in the warmth.

This is a slow uke week. Last week it was four events: a practice, my lesson and two concerts. This week I have no concerts. We are starting a new book, cowboy music.

I have a short to-do list. I need to water the plants and wash my kitchen floor which is covered in muddy paw prints.

My sister and I always contend we grew up during the best of times. We could roam. I always think we were probably the last of the roamers. I’d get on my bike and be gone the whole day. My mother never worried. I’d walk home in the dark from drill, and my mother never worried. I never worried either. She had given us her motherly warning about never accepting candy from a stranger, and I didn’t, but the only time that warning kicked in was in a subway station. I was with my uncle, two years older than I, and my brother. We were going to the MDC pool near the science museum. I was standing by myself when a man approached me. I remember he had bad teeth, rotted in the front. He had a hat. That’s all I remember about him. He told me if I wanted candy I needed to follow him. He was the one person I had been warned about. I got scared and ran to my uncle and told him. He didn’t believe me, but I was safe so I didn’t care what he thought. When I was older and thinking about it, I figured that man’s mother had never gave him the candy from stranger warning or he would have known my reaction. I never told my mother until I was an adult.

I like to sift through my memory drawers to see what I might find. That subway incident was never lost. It has always stayed with me.

The weather report from my Hey Google says it is sunny. It is lighter than the last few days but definitely not yet sunny, but I have hope. I think there is a glimmer. The temperature is 64°. The house is warmer than it has been. I have a cricket. I heard it this morning.

When I was a kid, Sunday was a lost day. It was church in the morning, dinner in the afternoon and occasional trips to my grandparents. It was also early to bed with my mother reminding us we had school in the morning, as if we needed reminding.

We always called our school St. Pat’s. The other kids went to the East School, but we didn’t call it by name. It was just public school which wasn’t meant to be derogatory. It was just a distinction. The other distinction is they wore regular clothes. We wore school uniforms except on scout days when we wore scout uniforms. At first there were lots of brownies, but as we got older, there were fewer Girl Scouts. I stayed.

Considering I never had a plane ride until I was in college, I have had the neatest experiences. That first plane was a small prop from Hyannis to Boston. In Ghana, I also rode a prop between Accra and Tamale. I took a helicopter between LaGuardia and Kennedy. That it rose straight up was the neatest part.

My sister and I took a balloon ride. We arrived at dawn to watch the balloon be inflated. It was in the fall, the last possible weekend for flight. I remember the sound of the gas as we floated. We were one of four balloons in the air. We could see people wearing robes and housecoats coming out of their houses to see us. We flew over a pig farm and scared the pigs. I took pictures of the balloon reflected in a pond. I could see the chase car following us. Though we practiced for a tipped basket landing, we landed perfectly then drank champagne to celebrate. On the bottom of the glass was a pin, a replica of the balloon.

On one beautiful late summer day, my friend and I took turns in a glider. I remember being pulled into the air by the small plane connected to us with a rope. When we were in the air, the pilot let me disengage the rope. We glided over the ocean. It was so quiet I could only hear the wind. We turned soundlessly. We landed on the grass. The wings tipped.

I have taken plane rides to the most remarkable places. I flew from Argentina to Uruguay over the water in a small plane. I flew over the Andes. They seemed so close I could almost touch them. I flew from Niamey to Ougadougou and arrived an hour before I left. Plane rides have taken me to places I had dreamed of when I was a kid. I am still amazed.