“If you feel stuck, move. You’re not a tree.”
Posted July 15, 2021 by katryCategories: Musings
The weather and I are twins of a sort. Every day the weather has been damp and cloudy and sometimes rainy. The sky is a lighter grey this morning but still no sun. The weather and I share a rut. Every day I drag myself out of bed, ask Alexa the weather and go downstairs. I let the dogs out, yes I am the one, and I make coffee. I read the Globe and save the Cape Times for when I’m done writing.
This morning feels closed in hot because of the high humidity, 83%. Outside is already in the mid 70’s, but my house is holding the night’s cool for a while. I’ve decided to have a bagel for breakfast, the same bagels Nala stole but I saved.
The sun is making as break of it from behind the clouds. It comes for a bit, gives hope of a lovely day then disappears again. It has done that a couple of times.
My movie genre of choice of late has been disaster films, mostly meteors, a couple of lava spewing volcanoes and real cold, the turning everybody into Lot’s wife cold. The conversations about the dinosaurs caught my attention because there are none. My choice for planet wide destruction would be a meteor: I’m thinking quick ands easy. Just to calm your fears, most of us survived the variety of disasters. They are, after all, only movies.
Right now a meteor is destroying the Earth a little at a time, a few shards here and there. The water is bad, and drinking it will give you a painful death. Just keep walking.
When I was a kid, we never watched TV during the day except on Saturdays. That morning was devoted to kid’s programming. A lot of the half hour shows were westerns. I got my fill of good guys and bad guys. The black hat signified a baddie. Conversely white was a good guy, and that hat pretty much stayed on our hero’s head during fisticuffs. I don’t even think it got dirty. We never watched all the programs. Saturday was calling.
During the week, the late afternoon was TV watching if we had our homework done. Superman and The Mickey Mouse Club are the two I remember the most. Sometimes dinner was too early, and I had to sit at the kitchen table and crane my neck to see the end of my programs. Such were the trials and tribulations of a kid growing up in the 50’s and 60’s.
“I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I’m awake, you know?”
Posted July 13, 2021 by katryCategories: Video
Last night I slept like the dead. First I slept on the couch then I slept upstairs with two dogs at the foot of my bed. Sleeping like a log also came to mind. It fits with the topic under discussion, but I don’t know why. Logs sleeping? Maybe that’s from the old days when logs were floated down river. Sleep like a baby would be dismissed by new parents. My mother often accused the teenage me of sleeping my life away. She could lever the same maxim at me now. If I woke up grouchy, not enough sleep was the culprit. My favorite of them all was, “Sleep tight. Don’t the bedbugs bite.” That one scared me a little.
Today is a repetition of yesterday. It is damp and cloudy. The high will only be 72˚. When I went to get the papers, I was surprised at how warm the air felt so I left the front door open to the world. Outside is perfectly still for the meantime. The smallest of breezes appears only every now and then.
Today I have no plans except to do some stuff around the house. It is also time for laundry, step 2: bring the basket downstairs by the cellar door to make me feel guilty.
Nala is the first real counter surfer dog I’ve had. Shauna did it a couple of times, but counter food was safe from her. She preferred to trash pick. I have learned not to leave food on the counter, cooked food that is. But yesterday Nala did the unexpected. She stole unopened packages of the treats I had bought myself and ran outside before I knew to look there. Later she ate the cat treats behind what I thought was an impermeable wall, my own Maginot Line. The treats were hidden but Nala found them. The oven is my new go-to-stash container for everything except can goods and the stuff in the fridge. Nala hasn’t yet learned how to open the fridge, but she watches me every time, a sort of Hitchcock or King plot devise, or is it Hitchcokian and Kingish?
