The sun was around earlier but disappeared for a bit then came back. It is supposed to hang around all day. I was surprised by how warm it is when I let the dogs out. It is 67°. My house, as is usual this time of year, is colder. Good news for both Henry and me. His eye sockets are so much better. The anti-itch spray has worked. The bright red round his eyes is pale, nearly gone, as is the swelling. He doesn’t scratch any more. As for my leg, it too is much better. The pain is usually in the late afternoon and evening after my walking on it during the day, but it is bearable.

When I was ten, I joined the St. Patrick’s Shamrocks’ junior drill team. I had practice on Saturday mornings just learning how to march and maneuver. We didn’t compete or march in parades. Our sole purpose was to get ready for the senior drill team. I remember my first year in that drill team. I was really young. Many of the members were much older, in their teens, late teens for some. I had practice on Tuesdays and parades and competitions all summer. I remember Pleasure Island in Wakefield. It opened in 1959, and we marched through the park on opening day. Everything was free. I remember the donkey ride and the boat ride where Moby Dick rose from the depths. I remember the crooked house where everything inside was slanted. I had trouble walking. I also remember meeting the actor who played Michael Anthony on The Millionaire. He gave out fake million dollar checks. We were there the whole day.

I remember marching in the Halloween parade. We got eggs thrown at us. One egg hit my leg and the shell cracked. Egg oozed down into my boot. It was disgusting. We marched on Bunker Hill Day and St. Patrick’s Day. Sometimes we were joined by a few guys in their cups. They usually offered us a beer. We just kept marching. All these years later, I still have wonderful friends from those marching days.

My dance card is empty today. I’m still taking it easy. I have uke practice, a lesson and one concert during the rest of the week. I expect to go to all of them.

I almost slept through the whole morning. When I finally stirred, it was after eleven. I talk to my sister every Sunday at 11, but she figured rightly that I was still sleeping so she didn’t call. We did chat eventually.

My house was so cold when I woke up that outside was warmer. The dogs were stretched across the bed so I had just a corner of the covers. I could see my breath, okay a slight exaggeration here for descriptive purposes, but when I checked the temperature, the house was only 63°. Mark the day as the first time I turned on the heat this season. It is blasting now.

I have been home lately. I haven’t seen anyone. My leg hurt which didn’t help. Only the dogs heard me moan and watched me limp. I talked to people but minimized my leg. The leg conversation was getting tiresome. Today, finally, my leg is so much better. It only hurts a bit when I stand up and sit down. This is week five. The doctor did say 3 to 5 weeks.

I am not a beer drinker. I liken it to cow urine. No, I haven’t tasted cow urine so I’m guessing. I do have a beer story. When I was in training in Ghana, we got a couple of cedis, Ghanaian paper money, a day. We were housed and fed so the money was for snacks or travel or recreation. One night a bunch us met at a spot which was on the corner of the main road between our two training sites. A spot is basically a Ghanaian bar. We sat outside. There were 5 or 6 of us. We ordered beer as that was all we could afford. I would take a sip of beer then puff on my cigarette hoping to disguise the taste of the beer. We decided to play a few drinking games. We stayed drinking until we ran out of money. By then we were all a bit in our cups. We left to go back to our schools. I few of us had to walk on a path through palm trees and greenery with family compounds set among the trees. We started to sing as we walked. I don’t know why but we sang church, mass, songs. We sang all the way. I can’t imagine what the Ghanaians thought. I slept well that night.

This week I have uke practice and a lesson and one concert. On Saturday is my 60th high school reunion. It is in the afternoon. That always makes my sisters laugh.