The house was cold this morning. It holds the night chill. Today will be in the low 50’s. It is a cloudy morning. Everything looks dark. The leaves are losing their colors, turning brown, and even a small breeze drops more of them to the ground.

Mornings this time of year have a different feel. The air is chilly but it hints of afternoon warmth. Hoodies are morning attire while a flannel shirt will do for the afternoon.

Saturday has always been my favorite day. When I was a kid, it was a day to roam. I remember riding my bike to the zoo. I’d put it in the bike rack then walk and visit the animals. Back then the animals lived in small cages except for the deer who roamed a fenced in hillside. The animals were more local than exotic. I remember raccoons and even squirrels. I’d spent most of the day there. I’d eat my lunch at one of the picnic tables in an area beyond the cages then finish roaming. The MDC barn was beside the entrance to the zoo. The horses were stabled there. That was my last stop before the ride home.

Pieces of my childhood have stayed with me. They have become traditions. Some are as simple as making my mother’s stuffing at Thanksgiving and her pepper and eggs in the summer. She always made it when we went to the beach or had a barbecue. My sisters and I joke that we caught the Christmas bug from my mother. We even make the same cookies. My mother used to say, “It is too cold to snow.” We did too until it snowed on the coldest day. When I go outside in the winter without a hat, I think of my mother. She would have reminded me that heat escapes through the head. My sisters sometimes say that to me. It is part of family lore.

My sloth continues to party. I swear I can hear him blowing horns. He is celebrating my joining him and doing nothing. I have become quite adept at ignoring the giant balls of dog hair which fly into the air when I walk around the house. I could write dust me on the tables. At some point, though, I’m just going to have to clean. I can only take so much!!

Apologies, apologies for the lateness of the hour. I slept quite late then a former student from Ghana who lives here in the US called, and we spoke for well over an hour. It was catch up time. We spoke of her days as my student and of Bolga. Franciska is a FraFra, the tribe in and around Bolga. Her family home is in a village outside of Bolga. She was one of the youngest students in my class the first year. She was also one of the smartest. Franciska has had some heavy duty medical issues, but she sounded healthy and said she was feeling good. We caught each other up with what we’ve each been doing. She hasn’t been back to Ghana for a long time but hopes to go. I told her that was also my hope.

I am taking it easy again today. That worked yesterday as my leg is much better, and I can stand up without moaning. The Tylenol helped as I woke up only a couple of times during the night. I still need to do an errand.

The afternoon is mostly sunny. It is in the high 50’s. The air is still. My neighborhood is quiet though Henry did break the silence when he barked at the Amazon driver delivering a big bag of dog food to the house. Nala is still up to her felonious ways. I found a rolled pair of sneaker socks in the hall downstairs. They had been upstairs. I think I have to do a yard check.

Duke, the boxer I grew up with, was not a thief. He didn’t usually steal food from the counter except that one time we caught him, my brother and I. My mother had put the Sunday roast on the counter to defrost. It was roast beef, my favorite. My brother and I were watching TV when Duke came out of the kitchen with the roast in his mouth. We jumped up, grabbed him, opened his jaw and took the roast. He was not a happy dog. The roast has teeth marks. We washed it and smoothed out the teeth marks as well as we could. We must have done a great job as my mother didn’t notice. As we were sitting around the table eating, my brother and I were hard-pressed not to laugh.