Last night the thunder was tremendous, dramatic. It lasted the longest time. The dogs started to shake, the first time they have reacted to the crack of thunder over the house. Nala was beside me so I put my arm around her hoping to comfort her fears. Henry jumped up and moved to inside the curl of my legs. He needed to touch me. I kept patting him. The thunder quieted then got loud again. The dogs got closer. Finally, the rumbles moved off into the distance. Nala sighed, put her head down and went to sleep. Henry stretch and went to sleep. So did I.

The rain started, but I don’t know when because the thunder drowned out every other sound. Finally, when the thunder quieted, I could hear the rain. It was still raining when I woke up. Scattered thunderstorms are predicted for today with a high in the low 80’s. The humidity is thick.

I do need dog food so I’ll be forced to get dressed and go to Agway. Beyond that I have nothing for the rest of the day. On my dance card for the week is the uke: practice Tuesday, lesson Wednesday and concerts on Monday, Wednesday and Thursday.

When I was in grammar school, I had nuns almost every other year. When I was in first grade, I thought Sister Redempta was scary. She’d whip her head around if she heard a noise. We’d stay quiet rather than incur her wrath. She used to have us fold our hands together and put them in the middle of our desks. We sat there without moving. I remember at Christmas we were having a small play. I was given a line to learn, something about the angels. I did. I was absent one day. She took my line away.

When I was older, I figured out that Sister Redempta whipped her head around because her wimple had sides so she had little peripheral vision. We could take chances knowing we could beat the speed of the wimple. That was such a revelation!

Today my mother would have celebrated her 96th birthday. She was my first thought when I woke up. I miss her every day. Sometimes I think I’ll call her then I remember. Happy Birthday!

Today will be hot and sunny. Already it is in the high 70’s, but I’m comfortable here in the cool, dark den. My plans for the day are simple: do nothing. Yesterday got away from me as I had a couple of appointments: my teeth are clean and my license has been renewed. I’m good to go.

I started hating the dentist when I was in the 7th grade. That was when my father decided the dentist in town, with his gas and painless dentistry, was too expensive; instead, he drove to me East Boston on Saturdays to take me to his childhood dentist. I swear that dentist used pedal drills. He didn’t use novocaine. I was in pain. I gripped the chair arms with such force I left finger indentations. Much later, when I saw the Little Shop of Horrors, I recognized the sadistic dentist. He was the very same one from my childhood.

I had to have perfect teeth before I left for Ghana. The dentist I found was near school in Lawrence. I was braced for torture. It didn’t happen. It was painless. I didn’t grip the arms even once. My father didn’t balk. He paid the bill. I stopped hating dentists.

I have a list of favorite smells. The Christmas tree probably tops the list. Its aroma fills the house the whole season. I have pine incense I burn to bring back the tree. Wood charcoal burning is another. That brings me back to Ghana, especially back to the mornings. The compounds around my house cooked every morning on small charcoal burners. I could see the white smoke rising above the compounds, and I could smell the sweet wood burning. I have wood charcoal I burn in my chiminea. If I close my eyes, I’d swear I was in Ghana. Bread baking is another of my favorites. I salivate at the thought of butter melting on hot bread. I remember ditto machines. I’d pass out the papers to my students, and the first thing they’d do was smell the paper. The sweet, pungent smell before a rain storm is another. I know it is ozone, but I prefer a more earthy description. After a rainstorm, the smell of the grass and flowers fills my senses.

I think summer has the most aromas with the whiffs of newly cut grass, the hints before rain storms and the sweet redolence of everything in bloom, but I love the scents of winter wafting through the cold air and sweetening the starkest of all the seasons.