Today is hot, already 76°, the high for the day. The sun is out though the weather calls for a cloudy day. The breeze is slight, but I’ll take any breeze as the days warm. The birds are serenading us. The windows are open.

When I add a piece or two to my jigsaw puzzle, I cheer. The colors left in the box are all red and green, mostly kiwis and watermelon, so each piece is a triumph. I hold the piece and check the box top hoping to find where it belongs. This morning it was two green and a red.

My mother used to do jigsaw puzzles on her dining room table. She’d spread out all the pieces making it easy to find the right piece. Anyone going to the kitchen had to pass through the dining room. Just about everybody stopped to work on the puzzle. Success was announced out loud, “I got one.”

My favorite Ghanaian dishes are jollof rice and kelewele. Jollof rice has, of course, the rice with tomatoes, onions, tomato paste, peppers and spices. Most times it has chicken. On my last trip to Ghana, I ordered jollof every night with dinner.

I used to buy kelewele from aunties cooking it in large pots over wood fires on the sides of the road. Kelewele’s main ingredient is plantain which I came to love. The plantain is fried and has a crispy outside and a soft inside. Added to that is fresh ginger and grated onions. The Ghanaians grind the ginger and grated onion in a heavy, black clay sort of bowl with sides. They use a wooden piece shaped like an hour glass to do the grinding. I brought the bowl and grinder back on one of my trips. It was so heavy I could barely lift the carry on. Hot pepper is added. I think the Ghanaians add hot pepper to just about every dish. The paste is added to the plantain which is then cooked. Groundnuts, peanuts, are sprinkled on the top of the cooked plantain then served. I would eat this every day if I could find it or had someone cook it for me.

I haven’t a list today. I do need a few groceries, the usual bread and cream, and whatever treat catches my eye, but I’m hoping for a coconut cupcake.

The morning is sunny and bright. It is already 73°, the high for the day. This time of year my backyard is hidden by greenery. I love the full trees with their fluttering deep green leaves and small branches bending in the breeze. Nala has a favorite spot near the back deck steps where she naps in the sun. She lies full flat, showing life only when her ears twitch, probably bothered by a bug. Henry is in and out sort of dog.

My mornings start perfectly. I make my coffee, Costa Rican coffee, this month, let the dogs out then grab my newspaper. I read mostly local news, national news being so depressing, then I do the three puzzles. Some mornings I have toast with my first cup of coffee. This morning it was a bagel smeared with fig jam. I always have two cups of coffee though on cold mornings I might even have three.

This time of year, unless it rained, my bike was always parked in the backyard ready for adventure. Every time I hopped on and rode down the grassy hill in the front yard, I wondered what I’d find as I rode familiar routes. By the golf course, I’d often find a ball across the street in the gutter or on someone’s lawn. Round perfect stones found their way into my pockets. Once in a while I’d find a penny, a worthwhile find back then. I’d stop at fruit trees, usually apple trees, to grab a snack. The apples were small, hard and tart. I’d hope to be on time to watch the train pass through the next town over. I loved when the speed of the train sent a breeze which ruffled my hair, a short breeze but just enough for the sense of it. I’d ride around Spot Pond, the reservoir. I always dreamed of sneaking to the island in the middle and camping for a night. Now you can boat on the pond. I’d ride up town. It was always called up town. In town was Boston. I’d window shop. Hank’s Bakery and the Gloucester Fish Market had the best windows. I loved watching the lobsters swim around in the window tank, and at Hank’s, I wished I could buy a cupcake, always chocolate when I was a kid, though later I preferred coconut. It was late afternoon when I’d finally get home and park my bike in the back.

I make lists every day. Some days I finish one or two chores, but other days nothing gets done. When I was younger, I compulsively finished every chore on my list and took delight in crossing off each finished item. Now my lists are small, maybe a couple of chores. I sometimes finish my list, sometimes not. The compulsion is gone, replaced by a book, a jigsaw puzzle or a few crosswords. Yesterday I cleaned down the stairs and in the downstairs bathroom, neither was on my list. Today I have no list though I do want to wash the kitchen floor, maybe tomorrow.