Posted tagged ‘61˚’

“A procession is a participants’ journey, while a parade is a performance with an audience.”

May 28, 2017

The morning is lovely; the sun so very bright. The air is sweet. When Gracie and I went to the backyard, I felt the early morning chill as I was awake and stirring before the arrival of my newspapers. My neighbors across the street were also awake. Their shades were up. The dogs from the corner house were barking.

I’ve had coffee but nothing else yet. I’m thinking maybe an English muffin. I eat a piece and Gracie eats a piece, but what she doesn’t know is pills are hidden in the nooks and crannies. When it comes to food, Gracie is easily duped.

Okay, my weather prognostication skills are faulty. It is still chilly, and it has gotten cloudy. The sun is on and off.  It is 61˚ and won’t get much warmer. At least it isn’t raining.

I watch far too many Forensic Files. Yesterday I cut my finger, but it didn’t hurt so I didn’t notice. A while later I saw the blood, cleaned my hand, and put a band-aid on the cut. I found blood smears on the door and bathroom faucets. Immediately I thought DNA evidence.

TCM is my viewing choice of the day. I just watched 36 Hours which I had never seen. The theme today seems to be Nazis and spies of all sorts out to thwart them. James Garner was this movie’s hero as was Rod Taylor, a Nazi who helps James Garner and Eva Marie Saint escape a fake hospital run by Nazis pretending to be Americans to get information about D-Day from Garner. Taylor convinces Garner it is 1950 and the war is long over. If you want to know more and wonder about Eva Marie Saint, you’ll have to watch the movie. Next up is 1942’s Journey into Fear starring Orson Wells.

My town has a parade tomorrow. I’m hoping it isn’t raining as I really do enjoy these little  hometown parades. The Memorial Day parade is the shortest. The middle school band provides the music, and every other year the high school band joins them. On the off year, the band goes to Yarmouth, the other half of the school district. Veterans, girl scouts, and boy scouts march. The boy scouts lug the same float they lug every year. There is always one jeep, the same one every year with the same driver. The end of the parade has fire trucks with their sirens blaring. It doesn’t matter that the parade is always the same. I think that’s my favorite part.

It’s game night Sunday!

“Then Sister Aquinata abandoned the nonviolent methods and produced a rolling pin from somewhere.”

October 3, 2015

Much as I appreciate the rain, the darkness worms its way inside sapping my energy, making me sluggish and listless (which can actually be taken a couple of ways as I haven’t a list today. Despite my mood it seems I can still conjure a pun).

This morning the house was so cold I decided to stay in bed and did so for another hour. I read my new book so the hour was not wasted. When I finally came downstairs, I saw 61˚ on the thermostat. I turned on the heat to warm the house. Now it is cozy. All three animals are asleep for their morning naps. Each has her own room: Fern is in the living room, Maddie likes the cushions in the dining room and Gracie takes the couch.

While I was reading this morning, silent reading came to mind. I have no idea why. I haven’t heard or thought about that in years. It used to be a graded subject on my grade school report card. You either got a U or an S. I always got the S for satisfactory though it probably should have meant superb given how many books I sneaked and read during class time. The nuns didn’t teach silent reading as the name said it all so I used to wonder how silent reading was graded. What were the standards? Doesn’t move lips could have been one as moving lips is like talking. Doesn’t shuffle feet or look around could have been a couple more. Maybe posture was part of the grade, but that’s a bit of a stretch. The number of pages wasn’t a fair standard. Not every kid was honest. I really think it was made up so nuns could have a break whenever they needed one. I remember they used to tell us to read silently to ourselves. When I got older, I wondered how you could read silently to someone else, maybe in sign language which none of us knew, but I never dared ask. Nuns could be scary when they were mad.