“Then came July like three o’clock in the afternoon, hot and listless and miserable.”
Posted July 29, 2025 by katryCategories: Musings
Tags: Air conditioner, Bolgatanga, Ghana, heat, popsicles, summer, summer-hibernation
It is summer hibernation time. The air conditioner is blasting to keep the torrid heat at bay. Right now it is 87°. Every report gives 90°as the high. I am no longer singing Oh what a Beautiful Morning. I am now singing a bit of an off key rendition of the Heat Is On.
When I was young, the heat never really bothered me. I was out every day sometimes to the playground where I played softball and did crafts while other times I was on my bike. We didn’t even have a fan, but that didn’t matter. After a full day, I fell sleep. The treat of the day was a popsicle bought from Johnny the ice cream man. My favorite was root beer followed by wild cherry.
Our living room was always dark. My mother pulled all the shades down to keep the sun at bay. The kitchen was hot, no shades and an open back door. Suppers were quick meals. The oven was seldom turned on as it heated up the small kitchen. If we opened the fridge to check around, we’d hear my father, “Close the fridge. You’re letting all the cold air out.” I remember the freezer had layers of ice. Our cold drink was Zarex, mostly orange Zarex. My father called it bug juice. I remember it was always in a blue aluminum pitcher which had a set of aluminum glasses (an oxymoron) in different colors. The glass always felt cold in my hand, and it was wet from condensation. After the sun went down, it was a bit cooler, and we stayed outside until my mother called. We had no set bedtime in the summer.
I didn’t know what hot was until the dry season in Bolgatanga. A cool day was in the low 90’s. The only saving grace was the heat was dry. I remember I’d be sitting in a chair in my living room, and when I got up, a sweat outline of my body was on the cushion. I had only a cold shower, but it was a delight in the dry season. I always took my shower just before bed. I’d not dry off, throw on a robe, hurry inside, take off my robe and go to bed. I fell asleep being air dried and feeling cool.
Now I hurry from air conditioner to air conditioner. I gasp when I get into my car, but luckily, it only takes a few minutes to get cold. I let the dogs out, but Henry often turns around and comes back inside. Nala stays out longer, and I keep watch. I don’t want her out long. They sleep deeply in the cool house.
Running Down a Dream: Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers
Posted July 27, 2025 by katryCategories: Video
”The bicycle, the bicycle surely, should always be the vehicle of novelists and poets.”
Posted July 27, 2025 by katryCategories: Musings
Tags: biking, travel, \exploring
I feel lazy today. I haven’t yet gotten dressed. I made the coffee, read the paper, talked to my sister in Colorado, had another cup of coffee and finally got down to writing. That brings me to now.
Today is uninviting, a bleak day with a grey sky threatening rain. It is in the low 70’s, but a strong breeze makes it feel colder. My house is dark. I’ve left the lights off. It is also quiet, almost as if no one lives here. The dogs are napping, Henry upstairs and Nala beside me on the couch. My mood is somber, reflecting the day.
When I was a kid, I always went to mass. I feared mortal sin. I didn’t want my soul to look like the black milk bottle in my catechism. My church clothes, not to be confused with my school clothes or my play clothes, were always the same, a dress or skirt, good shoes and a hat. I carried my missal. It gave me something to read. Back then, the mass was in Latin with Latin responses. The priest faced the altar and had his back to us. I always felt a bit detached.
When I was out on my bike, my mother never knew where I was. Even if she had asked, I could never had told her where I’d be. I usually didn’t know myself. I had many different routes. I remember riding by the golf course and looking for and finding balls in the gutters and on the lawns of houses across the street. Two different directions led to other towns, one had the lake while the other had the trains. I could ride to the zoo. I’d put my bike in the bike stand and check out all the cages. Back then, the zoo had an elephant and a kiddy zoo where the animals were in scenes from nursery rhymes like the clock in Hickory Dickory Dock, the old lady’s shoe and Humpty Dumpty on his wall. At the end of the zoo were picnic tables. If I had brought my lunch, I’d sit there.
I’d check out Spot Pond. It is by the zoo. It was a reservoir which meant no trespassing at all. I always imagined a Huck Finn raft with me sneaking to the island with food and shelter and hiding there to camp. The water always looked so inviting. Now, you can fish for bass and bluegill and rent boats like canoes and kayaks, but you still can’t swim there.
My bike took me everywhere, even once to East Boston to visit my grandparents. My bike made my world so much bigger. I was an explorer.
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