Some mornings just seem to be perfect. Today’s is one of them. The sun is bright. A breeze is coming in through the back door, from the south. My den is cool and dark, a pleasant place to be. My neighborhood is quiet. I can hear only birds greeting the day. The coffee was delicious. I lingered while I read both papers.

I have no plans for today. I’ll just wait and see what unfolds.

When I was a kid, I had a bit of a boring palate. My mother served us what she knew we’d eat. She went heavy on the potatoes and ground beef, and for dinner, we always had a vegetable. Corn was the hands down favorite, niblets, not creamed corn. I loved peas. I found them versatile. Sometimes I’d mix them into the potatoes. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but it was tasty. They were perfect in pasta salads. Even now, peas are among my favorites. Chinese food was the most exotic we ate. When I was little, my parents told us Chinese food was only for adults. I believed them. Who would have thought parents lied?

I remember my first introduction to Ghanaian food. It was at dinner. I didn’t eat it. It was a glob of mushy green something or other. I asked and found out it was kontomire stew, a stew made from cocoyam leaves. I did try it and didn’t like it, but over time, I ate and enjoyed many Ghanaian foods, just not kontomire.

My palate expanded wider and wider. In every country where I traveled, I tried the food. I ate reindeer in Finnish Lapland. I remember sitting in the hotel dining room watching Thomas Eagleton withdraw as McGovern’s vice presidential nominee 18 days after he had been named.

Ordering food in Europe was easy, but in Africa and South American, my language skills being limited, I just pointed at what I wanted to eat. I seldom asked what the food was. I didn’t want to know. I let my eyes and my taste buds. I was seldom disappointed.

As for now, I don’t cook for myself too much. I am into easy, but now and again I make a meal. If I make a meal like a meatloaf, I eat it a few days in a row. It becomes dinner and sandwiches for lunch. Last night it was spaghetti and meatballs. It will be the same tonight and maybe tomorrow night.

Around four this morning the dogs and I were awakened by the loudest clap of thunder I have ever heard. It was right over our heads, and the house shook. I could almost feel the power of that thunder clap. Lesser claps followed than rolling thunder. The dogs and I were on alert. Finally, the thunder rolled away, and all of us were able to relax.

Last night’s rain was torrential, and the sounds of the drops on the roof and against the windows surrounded us. That was the last sound I heard before I fell asleep.

It was still raining but gently when we woke up. Now I hear only drops from the trees in the back yard. The sky lightens then darkens. It is warm and, as you’d expect, quite humid. More rain is predicted.

My dance card is filled this week with uke. Last night we had our usual Monday concert in Hyannis. The crowd was small as rain was a possibility. Tonight I have practice with a new book, Across America. Tomorrow is a lesson and another concert.

When I was a kid, I entertained myself all summer by finding something to do every day. The playground was my favorite spot. I’d spend whole days there. That was where I learned to weave gimp and make potholders. I played softball in the afternoons. I pitched and played first base. I loved those summer days.

On rainy days, I’d often ride my bike, that is if the rain was gentle. My favorite spots included the field near my house with the two horses. They’d come to the fence to greet us. I’d search around the golf course for golf balls which had missed their targets. Some were even across the street from the course on lawns. I’d ride to the farm and watch the cows. I’d pedal to the next town over and circle the lake. That was my long ride.

I always had books to read, mostly from the library. On Fridays, though, I’d get my fifty cents allowance and rush uptown to buy one of the Whitman books from the series I loved like Trixie Belden, Donna Parker and Ginny Gordon. They were 49¢ so that left a penny for candy.

The grocery store is on my list again. I forgot bread the last time. It is also an excuse to get another Snickers though I really don’t need an excuse. I just need chocolate.