The rain started around 2:30 this morning. I had just turned out my light then I thought I heard drops at the window. For a strange reason I’ve never understood, I need to turn on the light again to listen to make sure it is raining. It was. It still is. It will get as high as 72° today. I have a couple of errands. It is time for the dump, and I need bread and peanut butter, two of life’s essentials.

I like naps, especially on rainy days and cold winter days. The dogs and I get cozy in bed and sleep for a couple of hours. When I lived in Ghana, afternoon siestas were traditional. Most shops and the post office closed from noon to 2 because of the heat. I sometime took naps during that time. It was hot, but I still fell asleep.

The first time I went to Europe I was excited. I couldn’t believe my geography book was coming to life. This was after Peace Corps. I went to England, Scotland and Ireland. I was a backpacker. I stayed in B&B’s and traveled by bus, boat and train. My favorite times were always the mornings when everything was coming to life. People were walking to work and trucks were parked in the road while delivering goods. Little corner coffee spots offered not just hot coffee but also pasties. I’d walk and eat. The mornings had a different feel than the rest of the day. I always felt I was seeing well beyond what tourists saw. I was seeing a bit of the soul of each country.

My sister Moe turned 69 today. I am taken aback. How in the heck can my baby sister be 69? Moe is amazing. She is the best mother and grandmother. She is loving, kind and generous. She also has a neat sense of humor and laughs a lot. Moe is short and the grayest of us all. She was a preschool teacher her whole career. She was Miss Moe. She has rheumatoid arthritis and has had it since her 20’s. It is debilitating at times, but she never lets it stop her. I admire my sister Moe.

The weather has stayed amazing. The days are warm and the nights cool for sleeping. Last night I closed windows. I wore long sleeves. Fall is impatiently waiting in the wings.

This time of the year the house, in the morning, keeps the evening chill. I am always surprised when I walk outside and it’s warm. It is already 75°, but I’m wearing long sleeves as here, in the den, the sun doesn’t hit until the afternoon.

I remember the weather changing when I was a kid. The mornings were brisk. It was time to wear a fall jacket. On the walk to school, the trees hanging over the sidewalk began to change color, a few leaves at a time. My walk was short: down the hill, take a left, take a right then walk the straightaway. The straightaway had a sidewalk and was lined with houses. I remember on the corner was a two family, a double decker. It was a faded brown. Across the street from that house was one side of the convent. The school and the other parish buildings, the rectory and the church, were across from the front of the convent. The convent is gone now. The nuns left first. I remember every part of that walk. For eight years coming and going it was my walk to school.

As soon as I walked into the house after school, I’d change out of my school clothes. I’d throw my shoes on the closet floor then hang up the skirt and blouse. I preferred my play clothes anyway. They were a sort of uniform too: pants or shorts, a blouse and sneakers.

When I was in the fourth grade, we went to double sessions. I preferred the morning as that gave me all afternoon to play. The afternoon session was difficult. We hung around the house all morning sometimes playing outside but usually watching some TV. Getting dressed for school late in the morning seemed wrong somehow. In the winter, it was just about dark walking home from school. We never ate lunch at school.

This is a slow week for me. The uke concert was Monday, practice Tuesday and my lesson yesterday. Nothing else is scheduled. I’m doing odd cleaning again. The other day it was the cabinet under the upstairs bathroom sink. It was a jumbled mess. After I was finished, I had two bags of trash. Now I have plenty of room for storage. I really don’t like this mood. It offends my inner sloth.