Today, a thunder storm is predicted for both day and night. The air is humid, hot at 76˚. I needed to go out again, fourth day in a row. I went out early so I get home quickly. I had to get gas first. This needing to go out is just too-too. I sometimes long for those quiet winter weeks when I traveled only 8 miles, usually to the dump and back with maybe a stop at Ring’s, my favorite grocery store and on the way home anyway.

When I was a kid, Duke, our boxer, ate everything. He’d sometimes sit under the dinner table hoping for food. He always got some. We’d sneak it to him. I remember trying to sneak him the food without bending over and giving myself away, but Duke figured out the solution on his own. He came to me, and I put my hand down, and he ate the food from my fingers. It all looked perfectly innocent. Duke and I were co-conspirators.

Yesterday, while I was out, Nala stole papers from the recycle bin and shredded a few pages of the Globe from the day before. I noticed the mess as soon as I got home. I had two bags of groceries which I put on the floor while I cleaned the paper up. I turned and found Nala with the loaf of bread in her mouth, but she couldn’t escape. The back door was still closed. I got my bread back and put it in the oven for safe keeping. I put the rest of the groceries away.

Because Nala was outside a long while yesterday afternoon, I went to check on her. She was on the deck eating my bananas. I had completely forgotten my bananas. I had put them in a wire basket and thought they were safe. When I saw a couple of untouched bananas in the yard, I ran down and managed to save the two bananas. Nala had eaten 4. I was heart-broken. No, no, not my bananas!!

I have a birthday balloon still flying in the dining room. It surprises me that Nala either hasn’t noticed or has no interest; instead, she tore apart two packages of napkins I was saving for drinks with company. I found the trashed napkins outside when I was rescuing my bananas. I also found more paper from stolen goods I hadn’t noticed were missing. That dog does not discriminate. Anything is fair game whether I am home or not, but I do feel a little silly when I’m home, and she takes off out the back door with food or papers, groceries and books or magazines. She did steal a four pound bag of dry dog food, but I caught her outside with it. I think she is in training. The big bag of dry dog food is still in the car. I have to find a hiding place.

Lately, the weather’s been the same every day: partly cloudy and partly sunny according to the forecast. I’ve always thought that forecast silly. If it is partly sunny, isn’t it then partly cloudy as well or is that too esoteric. Anyway, regardless of the sky, it is warm, verging on hot, at 79˚ which will be the high. 67˚ will be the low.

I have a leisurely day planned. I won’t get dressed until my uke practice tonight. We’re playing Beatles music which I’m finding difficult. The chords change faster than my fingers.

Right now my attention is caught between writing this and watching all the serial episodes of The Green Archer from 1940. There are so many fights, and in none of them do the combatants lose their fedoras. All of their cars are parked right in front for their getaways. My car would have been parked a few blocks away. Nobody gets hurt. They get murdered but never wounded. They survive going over cliffs, fire-bombed cars and arrows. These chapters are perfect watching today.

When I was a kid, I always hated cake and ice cream on the same plate. It was served that way at every birthday party. A spoon scoop from the flat paper plate was always complicated. It could be crumbs, melted ice cream and a bit of ice cream still unmelted at the same time. It was a jumble. It was a mess. I remember the taste and texture of the crumbs. It’s one of those weird memories.

The other day I asked someone about celebrating his birthday. He told me he doesn’t celebrate. I was horrified. I told him my philosophy: you don’t have to celebrate your age, but you must celebrate the occasion. It is a day for paper hats and paper noisemakers like the ones we had when I was a kid. They had a yellow feather near the plastic blow tube. When you blew through the tube, the horn unfurled. It was like giving somebody a raspberry. At some parties mayhem ensued, and kids chased each other blowing horns. It was always fun.