“Strange to see how a good dinner and feasting reconciles everybody.”
Posted November 6, 2022 by katryCategories: Musings
Tags: canine thief, dinner, family day, Ghana, Laundry, newspapers, Peace Corps, sun
I thought yesterday was perfect, but I slightly missed the mark. That honor belongs to today. It is already 71° and will get a bit higher. There are a few clouds but not enough to block the sun. There is a bit of a wind but not a cold winter, almost a summer wind. I am going out later today. It would be sinful to miss such a lovely day.
Nala trash picked this morning. She got into the bag I was readying for the dump. I have to check outside, but I suspect there is trash because she disappeared right after the theft. Henry again was guilty of abetting. He was lapping one of the cans on the floor.
The smoke alarm went off again, the one in the hall. It has a new battery so I’m thinking it is dying. Henry ran upstairs. Nala went to the hall to check it out. She is brazen.
The big news is I have started my first load of laundry. I had to get my step ladder so I was in the cellar anyway. I keep looking for fireworks and listening for noise makers.
When I was a kid, Sunday was family day. I remember sitting in the living room with my dad after church. He’d read the paper, and I’d read the comics. Back then I had my little world which seldom extended beyond my town so I never read the news. My father did. He’d read the paper end to end. His finger tips got blackened from the print. When that happened to me, I’d press my fingers on white paper so I could see the fingerprint. My mother was always in the kitchen making Sunday dinner. That was the only dinner of the week. The other days we had supper in the early evening, around six. Dinner was in the afternoon. Saturday supper and Sunday dinner were the only meals we ate together because my father came home from work the rest of the week too late to eat with us.
The other night I had a real dinner. I had rib eye, mashed potatoes and peas. I had leftovers the next night. Those dishes are parts of my all time favorite Sunday dinner. My mother made that dinner for me on a Saturday night, on the night before I left to start staging for Peace Corps and Ghana. It is one of my connections to family, a favorite memory I still keep close.
“What use are socks? They only produce holes.”
Posted November 5, 2022 by katryCategories: Musings
That I am sitting here inside writing Coffee is a miracle. The most beautiful fall Saturday awaits me. Already it is 70°. An every now and then breeze shakes the dead leaves on the oak tree outside my window and sways the tops of the tallest trees. A day like today is one of the best reasons to live in New England.
My first cup of coffee in the morning is a delight. The first sip is so satisfyingly tasty I usually yum out loud. This morning I made toast though making toast seems a silly description, as if I did the work instead of the toaster oven. All I did was put the bread in, turn on the toaster oven and wait. Even then the toast nearly burned as I went outside and got lost in the morning.
The dogs have been in the yard most of the day. They come inside for water, their tongues hanging, then stand by the snack cabinet looking hopefully at me. Most of the time I give in and they each get a biscuit. They then go back outside having satisfied hunger and thirst.
I’m going out to get animal food. The dogs need everything. Jack needs all but new litter. That came yesterday. I think after Agway I’m going to take a ride, maybe even stop for lunch, treat myself. I haven’t done that in a while.
Lately I have been living in a Hallmark world where every house is decorated inside and out. Lights are ablaze. Decorated sugar cookies sit on the counter. Snow falls gently. High school sweethearts reunite or strangers fall in love. Princes from made-up countries find true love with a commoner. They dance the night away at a Christmas Eve ball. They end the evening with a kiss.
My socks have holes at the toes. My mother would be horrified. She thought socks and underwear had to be intact. I disappointed her. I always said I could never throw away socks if only my toes were exposed. Nobody saw them anyway. As for my underwear, the same rule applies, and I never gave credence to the thought of an accident. When I get dressed today, I’m going to fold over the tops of my socks before I put them into my shoes. The lumps never bother me.
