We are still having the most delightful weather. It is already in the mid 70’s with lots of sun and a strong breeze keeping the heat at bay. It will go down to the 50’s tonight, perfect for sleeping. Tomorrow we will have welcomed rain.

I have projects for today. My small bureau needs painting, but I’m only doing the three drawer fronts in red. I’m in need of a little whimsey. I’m also going to tackle the conundrum, the domino effect, of where to move one thing to make room for another and then move another to make room for the last thing moved.

I sometimes wonder if I went back in time where would I go. Maybe I’d choose a random Saturday, jump on my bike and roam my town. I’d get to see as it was when I was young. It had a town horse barn, trains that rolled through to the factories along the tracks, a man who sharpened knives on his special bike with a whetstone and the ragman with his horse and wagon. I’d get to yell, “Johnny,” to announce the ice cream man.

Perhaps I’d go back to high school. I’d head to Brigham’s for one of our celebrations, maybe for Mardi Gras. I’d order my usual sundae, the one with chopped almonds on the top. I’d spend a dime and head to Harvard Square where I’d roam the streets the way we used to, maybe I’d even take in a movie at the Orson Well’s Cinema. If I had the money, I’d have lunch at the Wursthouse, some bratwurst or schnitzel. I’d check out the newspapers and magazines at Out of Town News. Just looking at the headlines whetted my thirst for travel.

My college stop would be one morning in the canteen. My friends and I would be sitting at the table near the wall, sort of our table. I’d be smoking a cigarette and drinking cups of coffee. We’d all be reading The Globe then having a contest to see who could finish the crossword the fastest. After classes we’d always meet up again. We laughed a lot. I remember if one of my friends was talking on and on, we’d all turn our backs. We loved the harassment.

I’d be hard-pressed to choose which of my Peace Corps days I’d go back to. I have three in mind. The first would be arriving at staging in Philadelphia, the beginning of my adventure, of the best experience of my life. I remember being nervous and excited. While standing in line to check in, I met Ralph and later Bill and Peg. The second day would be my arrival in Ghana, stepping off the plane. I was in Africa, the most amazing place. I was awed. The third could be any day, a teaching day or a market day or a day in in Accra meeting friends and walking the city. They all were favorite days.

My last stop back in time would be on a Friday night at my parent’s house. We’d all be sitting around the kitchen table drinking and playing cards. I’d spend another evening with my parents. My Uncle Jack too would be there. We’d all be laughing and loving each other’s company.

I am happy. I love my life, my friends, my cozies, my sloth days, my uke and really bad science fiction movies, but I hold dear those other days. They are part of who I am. Actually, they helped me become the me I am.

Today is another glorious day. It is already 72°. The weather of late has been perfect with its warm days and cooler nights, down to the high 50’s, wonderful for sleeping. I’m toying with putting in the front door screen. I’ll wait on the back door as I leave the inside door open so the dogs can come and go.

I love my sloth days. I have no guilt about doing nothing. I can stay home in my cozies for weeks on end. I can read away the whole day and take naps from all the exertion, which make my frenzied activities of late distressing. Yesterday I polished this room, the den, and cleared more expired goods from the kitchen. My fridge is so clean I need sunglasses when I open the door. I keep hoping there will be some vaccine to stop this madness.

My dance card is empty for the next week. I have no plans, but I have a few possible chores in mind, more madness. I’m toying with moving a few books from the kitchen bookcase so I can put some bowls and dishes on the shelf. I just don’t yet know where to put the books. That’s the conundrum.

When I was a kid, keeping busy was far different than it is now. I would color at the kitchen table, read in my bedroom, ride my bike, or explore the woods and fields near my house. The days back then never seemed long enough.

I watch a 50’s movie yesterday, Target Earth from 1954. At the beginning, the female lead was primping in the mirror and only wearing her full slip. She got dressed and put on one of those skirts so tight she could take only small steps. Her waist was so tiny you could encircle it with your hands. I think my leg is bigger than her waist. She was wearing pearls and carried a purse as she ran through a deserted city.

Yesterday we had a uke concert at an assisted living spot, quite a nice spot. We usually play there once a month. The audience enjoys wine and tasty tidbits while they watch. Every time we are there, one man dances. He sort of shuffles back and forth. One of the women who works there dances with him but yesterday one quite elderly lady got up and joined him. They were a joy to watch.