“The gull sees farthest who flies highest.”
Posted March 19, 2023 by katryCategories: Musings
The morning is lovely. Out my den window I can see a brilliant sun, a brighter sun than we’ve seen, and a cloudless blue sky. What I can’t see is the cold. It is only 36°. I gasped a little when I went to get the papers.
When I was a kid, winter was fun. Snow was fun. I never really noticed how cold it was even when my lips turned blue. I hated wearing a hat, but I didn’t mind mittens. My mother made me layer. On the first warmish day I’d beg to wear lighter clothes. That never worked. She always made me layer anyway.
I had a bit of a scare this morning, thanks to Miss Nala, not a surprise I suspect. I hadn’t seen Nala in a while. She wasn’t on the couch, her usual morning nap spot, so I went outside to check the yard. No Nala lying in the sun. That scared me even though I knew she couldn’t escape the yard. I called and called. My voice got panicky. I came inside to check upstairs. Right away I noticed the gate across Jack’s door was leaning in the doorway. Nala was inside the room. She got in, but she couldn’t get out. Nabbed! She had eaten Jack’s food, licked the empty cans clean and left a trash mess for me.
The dogs are conspiring against me. I found both sets of name plates and town licenses on the floor the same day. Coincidence? I think not.
My father used to love the dump. My friends would come down for the weekend, and he’d take them there as if it were part of a tour of Cape Cod. My father pointed out the highlights like the seagulls circling the high piles of trash and other gulls at the top of the trash mountains picking out morsels. The dump was noisy back then. Gulls cried and squealed from overhead. It was a spectacle. My father would hate the dump now with its recycle bins and trash bins. There are no seagulls.
Today is my dump day.
The Garden Song: David Mallett
Posted March 18, 2023 by katryCategories: Video
This song is traditional here on Coffee
(Listen To The) Flower People: Spinal Tap
Posted March 18, 2023 by katryCategories: Video
I find this song masterfully sardonic.
“To beautify the Earth is the supreme Art.”
Posted March 18, 2023 by katryCategories: Musings
Tags: Bolgatanga, dry season, millet, Peace Corps Ghana, rainy, spring
The morning is damp from last night’s rain. It is already 46°. The sky is light grey cloudy and is supposed to stay cloudy all day. I have an empty dance card.
Today’s chores are the same as yesterday’s chores because I was a sloth the whole day.
I am watching a science fiction film from 1958, It, the Terror from Outer Space. If tradition had served me, I’d be sitting on the floor in my pajamas eating my cereal and watching the movie. I wouldn’t notice the cheesy painted backgrounds of Mars and of star-studded space or that the rocket ship is as big as a house with huge rooms and several floors. The movie takes place in 1973. The two women crew members are serving coffee and sandwiches to the male crew sitting at the table eating lunch and smoking cigarettes. This is a rescue mission. Only one of the first Mars’ space landing crew has been rescued. He is accused of killing his shipmates. That’s the plot so far.
When I lived in Ghana, in Bolgatanga, the only seasons were the dry and the rainy. When the rains started, green shoots began to pop out of the once dusty ground. They reminded me of spring but a dramatic spring. Behind my house, in the field beyond the fence, the tiny, green shoots of millet appeared. Everything came alive, fed by the rains. The growing season was in full array. Millet covered the whole field, and when it grew tall, the compound at the far end of the field would disappear behind the stalks.
The first crocus gives me the same elation I felt when I saw the tiny millet plants. Back then I was saying good-bye to the dry season while here it is a less than fond farewell to winter. The first crocus this year was yellow followed by purple. Each new flower is a renewal, a hopeful sign.
