Keep the Coffee Comimg

The air is thick with moisture. The clouds hang low. Nothing is moving, not a single leaf or the smallest branch. My room is dark. It may not be, but it feels cooler that way. The dogs had their tongues hanging after an outside jaunt. It is 79°, close to the predicted high of 80°. Tonight it will fall to 68°, sleeping weather.

Saturdays were the best days of the week when I was a kid. The mornings were for watching TV, all the kid’s shows and cartoons. I’d risk blindness and eat my Rice Krispies while sitting on the floor close to the front of the TV. Back then, in the 50’s, our TV was in a piece of furniture. It sat in a cabinet with doors hiding the screen, the small screen. The TV was in the corner of the living room where it could be seen no matter where you sat.

After breakfast I’d either walk or ride my bike around town. I never had a destination in mind. I didn’t need to be anywhere. I loved my town. I loved the horse barn, the rag man’s house with the leaning porch and the barn beside it filled with newspapers. I loved to sit on the benches in the green next to the town hall and greet the firemen sitting in front of the station just up the street. The square was filled with stores. On Saturdays cars filled all the parking spaces while people shopped the stores. In the cooler months the movie theater, right in the middle of the square, had matinees, a movie and cartoons, so my afternoons were filled.

At night, we’d have the usual New England Saturday supper of beans, hot dogs and brown bread. We’d have our baths then watch TV before bed. Westerns were big back then. Our bedtime hour was always a little bit later on Saturday nights. I used to read until I was forced to turn out the light.

Sunday was my least favorite day. I had to go to mass. I couldn’t wander after church, but I didn’t mind so much as we always had a big Sunday dinner, the best part of the day. I loved the mashed potatoes with gravy filling the space I’d made in the middle on the top of the mound of mashed. I still eat mashed potatoes that way. Roast beef was my favorite, but a roast chicken was a close second. Corn or peas were my favorite vegetables. Carrots were my least favorite. Dessert was usually cookies if any were left.

My dance card is empty for a couple of days. I’m glad for that. I am totally in sloth mode.

The Wicked Witch of the West would be melting if she lived here. Humidity hangs in the air. The temperature is already 78°. It is not a day fit for man nor beast or, in my case, woman nor cat nor dogs.

My dance card has one item, the play tonight, Jersey Boys. For the rest of the weekend, I’ll be home hoping to stay cool despite the humidity.

When I was a kid, jumping over the sprinkler was a great way to feel cool. Back then, my father had a metal sprinkler which circled. It was in the side yard. I’d run then jump. The water always felt cold at first but after a few jumps it felt warmer. My father was not a fan of sprinkler jumping because of the lawn. It got waterlogged and flattened. If the grass was even a bit tall, our feet left a path from the edge of the grass, over the sprinkler and onto the other side. My father always noticed.

The weather makes for lazy days, sloth days. If I didn’t have to go out, I wouldn’t even get dressed. The dogs lie on the floor, cooler than the couch. Dogs are quick to adapt to lazy days. As for the cat, every day is a sloth day whether summer or winter.

I don’t use my oven much regardless of the season. Right now it is an extra cabinet holding boxes of crackers and a few frying pans, none of which fit in the cabinets.

I wore my red high top Converse sneakers for July 4th. Underneath were white socks with blue stars. They complimented my white blouse covered in blue and red stars. On my head was a fascinator, also with stars, my fashion theme of the day.

My front garden has the tallest of flowers. They look like small sunflowers. The hollyhocks have buds. The clematis has spread across the front fence and now the gate. Small ground level purple flowers have bloomed. A huge bush, name unknown, is getting ready to flower. Along the edge of the grass, my day lilies are blooming. Another flower, name unknown to me, is blooming in the small center bed near the little library. I love to stand in front and take in the beauty of my garden. I feel lucky.