Posted tagged ‘-20˚’

“Memory is the way we keep telling ourselves our stories – and telling other people a somewhat different version of our stories.”

March 4, 2017

Winter is rearing its ugly head. Today is downright cold. It is 20˚ right now and today’s low will be 8˚. Gracie and I were going to the dump, but I think now I’ll just stay comfy and warm at home. Gracie is asleep on the couch beside me, her usual spot this time of day.

When I was a kid, my mother had a picture with a little boy in a blue bathrobe standing by a soapy tub. There was also a poem in the picture about taking a bath and cleaning up after yourself. That picture hung on the wall across from the toilet. I used to read the poem every time I sat on the throne as my dad used to call it. The bathrobe had a fuzzy texture as did a towel on the boy’s arm. I don’t know what happened to that picture; I’m thinking it was probably thrown out when my parents moved. I saw that same picture, with the fuzz, hanging at a B&B in Ireland, in Youghal. I tried to buy it. They didn’t want to part with it.

I had to memorize all sorts of things for school when I was a kid. The worst was when I was in the eighth grade. I had a crazy nun named Sister Hildegard. She used to eat candy from her desk drawer. It was no secret. We knew she did from her chewing. Once she even spit nuts on my paper when she talked to me. She called us devils and said she would write thanks be to God across the whole blackboard when we graduated. She made us memorize the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. I got through all of the Declaration of Independence and part of the Constitution when I decided I’d had enough. My desk was directly across from Sister Hildegard’s desk with only a small space between us. I put my history book on the floor opened to the Constitution. Every day during history I’d recite a new section, but I cheated by looking at the book on the floor. Soon enough anyone who could get away with it did the same thing. Sister Hildegard would have called me an occasion of sin.

“Genius is an African who dreams up snow.”

February 10, 2017

It is 1:30. The wind is still raging, but the snow has stopped. Most of the snow was wet and heavy, and in the late afternoon a downed wire cut off my electricity. I sat for a while reading, but because the house was getting a bit cooler, Gracie and I headed upstairs to take a nap. I was thinking warm down comforter. I don’t know what Gracie was thinking. I could hear the branches brushing against the house, against the wall in my bedroom. Then I heard a crash. I ran downstairs, opened the front door and saw nothing but branches. They extended from a giant branch, half of a pine tree, now lying across my front yard. It was torn off the tree by the wind. Its branches are near the front door and have cut me off from the outside world. Poor Gracie had to go out among the branches. It took three times before she decided it was branches or nothing.

I went to bed around 2:30. Gracie woke me up around 4. She was shaking. She was also panting: signs that Gracie needed to go outside. She wouldn’t get off the bed so I had to help her. We got down the stairs to the door and she went outside and did her business just this side of the branches.

I’m hoping my landscape guy comes today to free me. I know Skip will be here to plow and shovel as soon as he can. Right now the day is beautiful to look at, all sunny and bright, but that’s deceiving. It is only 20˚. I guess I’m okay for now with being stuck in the house, the warm house.

This was a terrific snow storm. It even had thunder. We probably got near a foot of snow. It covers everything. I couldn’t see out the back windows until a little while ago, but the sun is still the sun so the windows are clear again.

Looks like we have to postpone dump day.

“I haven’t reported my missing credit card to the police because whoever stole it is spending less than my wife.”

February 12, 2016

Everything went well yesterday except for the lie. The periodontist told me I’d feel a small pin prick when he put in the novocaine. I nearly jumped out of my seat from the pain. I swear the needle was so large it went through one gum across my mouth to the other. I barely noticed when he gave me the next two needles.

The surgery itself was painless. I now have two holes in my gums, one in the upper and one in the lower. The dentist covered the holes with band-aids which were pink like bubble gum and had the same consistency. He said they should last a few days or even a week. The first one fell off about two hours after I got home. The second one fell off this morning. He’s right about the two holes. I checked.

The coldest weather of the winter will be here tomorrow. The day will be relatively warm, in the upper teens, while the night could get as low as -20˚. Sunday will be the coldest. Daytime temperatures are expected to be below zero, as low as -15˚. If I hear singing and see little people dressed in red and green dancing down the street, I won’t even question my sanity. I’ll just look for the big guy.

I think I should start a do you believe it crime story of the day. The Globe reported three men were arrested for armed robbery. They were quickly found as each was wearing a police ankle monitor.

The town where I grew up still has a weekly newspaper called The Independent. It was founded in 1870. My favorite part to read when I was a kid was the police blotter. It reported all calls to the police station including such police emergencies as a cat stuck in a tree, kids shouting to each other as they walked down the street and a woman hearing noises in her backyard.

The calls now are about real crimes like robberies, break-in and drugs, but I do have a favorite: “Veterans Lane street sign including pole is missing.” That one boggles my mind. How did no one notice the pole being dug up and taken away? This next one seems to indicate a lack of communication between town departments, “The blinking green light has gone out and must be replaced immediately as it is the traffic light of the fire station.” I’ll leave you with this one and the comment related to it: “Our neighbors’ back yard is filled with empty Pepsi cans. They liter in their own back yard as well as our back yard. It is outrageous and someone needs to stop them. Thank you.” The comment, by a man named David, also included a picture of two crushed cans. Beside the picture was this comment, “Too much liter.” I’m thinking he should buy it in 20 oz. bottles instead.