Today feels warm. It is 37˚. The sun has disappeared and been replaced by whitish grey clouds. A slight wind blows the smaller branches. The dogs have been in and out all morning. I went on the porch while they were out and checked the yard. I saw a couple of cans stolen from the trash, two dog toys and an unknown red object. Nala brought the toys inside. Sometimes she does. Sometimes she doesn’t.

The languor of the last few months disappeared yesterday and has given way to a kind of frenzy. It all started with a snow globe covered in dust. I swiped it with my sweatshirt, my usual cleaning cloth. The snow globe looked so good I ended up cleaning all of the snow globes then I moved on with a duster and wet wipes to the rest of the wooden boxes. All of the items in each of the boxes are now clear of dust. This morning, when I went to get the cream from the fridge, I noticed some of the fridge shelves needed cleaning. I cleaned right then as if I had been possessed by a monster with a fearful face dressed in an apron, a house dress and slippers and carrying a whip and a broom. The coffee got cold. The top of my desk was next. I organized it, but the wind up toys on the desk shelf still need cleaning. They are next. I have decided my only way out of this is either to roam the house blindly or go out to do a couple of errands. I’m thinking the latter.

In my travels I have eaten strange things. In Ghana, I always bought bushmeat on the train. The meat came on a skewer, and there was so much hot pepper on the meat you had to wrap it in bread to eat it. I never thought about the source of the meat. I don’t think I wanted to know. Much later I found out it was any wild meat. I’m glad I didn’t know.

I ate Guinea pig or Cuy as it is called in South America, a local delicacy in Ecuador. I remember the restaurant was a small, local spot with Guinea pigs running around. The Guinea pig was roasted and came whole with a bunch of side dishes. I remember the potatoes were delicious.

I had reindeer in Finnish Lapland. Sometimes I’m asked how it tasted. I always say it was delicious except I found the blinking red light a distraction.

Chicken feet taste better than you’d expect but eating them takes work with all the bones. I ate wild bird in Iceland. The ptarmigan is the only one I remember on the plate. I tried frog legs and found them far better tasting than I expected. I’d order them again.

In this country I’ve eaten Rocky Mountain oysters, but I didn’t know what I was eating. I think I would have gagged to find out they are bull testicles. I’ve had eel which is pretty good. I ate gross jello salad when I was young. I don’t even like Jello. I used to eat Spam, the unknown meat, but only when it was fried.

I am still ever ready to taste the oddities. I just don’t want to know what I’m eating.

The spring equinox falls on March 20th, a mere 20 days from today. When I look out my den window, I see a deceptively lovely day, maybe even a spring-like day. The sun is blindingly bright. The sky is a deep blue. In Crayola speak it is cornflower blue. The air is calm. But, it is cold, really cold. The high today will be 27˚. Winter still holds sway.

When I was in the eighth grade, my class from my elementary school, the graduating class, had a class trip to Paragon Park in Hull. Before the big day, my mother took me shopping for a new outfit. I chose clamdiggers which more sophisticated people called capri pants. My blouse was white and sleeveless. I wore a white hat with a visor and new white sneakers. My mother went as one of the chaperons. I remember ride after ride on the wooden roller-coaster called the Giant Coaster, my favorite of all the rides. It rattled on the tracks and tossed us against the sides of the car on the sharp turns. We held on for dear life. A simple seat belt was the only restraint keeping us inside the cars. We did a few of the other rides. My second favorite ride was the Wild Mouse, a small roller coaster with two people cars. It twisted and turned and went up and down. We were flung from side to side at the sharp turns. We loved another ride, but I forget its name. It was a big circle, a cylinder. We leaned against the wall when the circle began to spin. It went faster and faster and pinned us against the wall. We couldn’t move. The floor disappeared. We kept spinning. It was exciting, and it was scary.

We never played any of the games. We just wanted rides and food. I bought a hot dog and some fries and later an ice cream cone and popcorn.

At the end of the afternoon, my classmates offered us, my friend Jimmy and me, their tickets. We took them and went on the roller-coaster a few more times. What we didn’t realize was we got the tickets because it was time to leave, and my classmates were headed to the buses. We were hunted down by the chaperons, including my own mother, because we were the last of us in the park, and the buses were waiting on us so they could leave. We got on board and off we went. We only had to endure a reprimand or two.

Before the park closed in 1984, a couple of friends and I decided to visit the park one last time to ride the coaster. It had been sold and was going to be moved. One of my friends was afraid of the ride. She smashed again me at the turns and screamed the entire time. I think I rode the coaster four or five times. I wanted to remember every twist and turn.