Posted tagged ‘67˚’

“Autumn is the time of picturesque tranquility.”

September 22, 2017

Last night the wind sounded like a freight train. I know it’s a cliche, but it perfectly describes what I was hearing. The wind blew in gales. In between the gales it was quiet if only by comparison. I think it was the wildest wind since the start of the storm. This is day four of the remnants of Jose. Earlier this morning it was raining loudly enough to hear. At other times the rain has been misty, quiet. The wind is still raging.

My deck and yard are filled with fallen leaves and smaller branches. Every time I go out, a few leaves are blown inside the house. All of them are shriveled and dead.

The birds are at the feeders in such numbers the sunflower and thistle feeders need to be refilled. I’ll just have to brave the rain. I don’t want to disappoint all those birds.

I did finish my errands yesterday. At the doctor’s they had snacks to thank us for getting our flu shots. I had a chocolate chip cookie and a mini-cupcake. Last night the spot where I got the shot itched a bit, and the spot hurts a little today. I’ll just have to be brave.

Last night I was cold so I grabbed a light blanket and snuggled a bit under it. This morning when I woke up the house was at 67˚. Since then, the temperature has risen a couple of degrees but not enough as I’m still a bit chilly, but I refuse to turn on the heat this early in the season. I’m still taken aback by having to use the AC the last couple of days because of the humidity. It is late for the AC and too early for the heat. Weather has gone amok.

Today is the autumn equinox, a beginning and an end: the end of summer and the beginning of fall, autumn. The nights will now be longer than the days.

When I was a kid, I loved when the leaves were falling. On our way to school, we would walk in the gutters kicking leaves and watching them fly. I remember yellow the most.

The only things on my to do list are to order groceries and finally get the laundry finished, or rather get it started. It is still upstairs. I have no ambition whatsoever, but I guess I could scare up enough energy to order groceries on line.

Rain is predicted for tomorrow as are wind gusts up to 45 MPH. Sunday, Monday and Tuesday are supposed to be sunny and in the low 70’s. I’ll believe it when I see it. All this rain has made me gloomy and skeptical.

“I like it where it gets dark at night, and if you want noise, you have to make it yourself.”

August 5, 2016

My usual quiet morning disappeared with the jarring sounds of saws and wood chippers. The house on the corner is minus a tree, but I don’t know which one as the truck obscures my view. It is the house of a new neighbor whom I met only once when I introduced myself. Earlier, she had a backyard fence added for her dogs, and in taking down a tree she is beginning to make the house her own.

Last night was a delight. It was actually cold enough for a blanket. When I woke up, the house was only 67˚. Gracie was again lying right beside me and Fern was at my feet. Fern comes upstairs, jumps on the bed and meows over and over until I wake up and pat her. After I do, she settles in on the bed.

The noise stopped for a while giving me hope that my quiet morning is back. I was wrong. It is even noisier than it was. I wish I were a cat. Both of my cats are sleeping soundly.

Sounds like bells or buzzers I can tune out after a while. Other noises, especially loud noises, seem larger than their reality, and this truck is one of them. It intrudes. It makes me grimace in annoyance. I want it gone. I want my morning back.

Yesterday was one of my most constructive days of late though that’s not really saying much. I did two loads of laundry, swept and wet mopped the kitchen floor, dusted down the stairs covered as they were with dust balls and cat hair and watered the plants. By the afternoon, I was tired and sweaty and on went the air conditioner. I have to make a dump run, but I’m leaning toward Monday. I feel lazy today.

I’m thinking of spending the afternoon on the deck. The breeze is wonderful, and my table is under shade from the trees. Gracie always follows me out and sleeps where the deck right angles. It too is a shady spot.

It’s getting on to lunch time. I’m thinking grill cheese.

“I hope nobody took the Razzle Dazzle Rose.”

September 25, 2015

Fall weather has taken hold. The days are sunny and warm while the nights are chilly, even cold. I put on a sweatshirt when I woke up this morning. The house was 67˚. If this were winter, my heat would be blasting. I have errands today, and I’m glad because it is a lovely day to be out and about.

When I was young, the nun would pass out papers with outlines of leaves for us to color. In those days the points of the crayons got blunt which make staying in the lines difficult. You had to attack the leaf with the side of the crayon, not where the point used to be. My leaves were red and yellow. I think everyone’s leaves were red and yellow. I remember carrying my treasure home and how proud I was of my art work. I especially remember how much my mother loved those leaves. She made me feel like a real artist and never did mention I went out of the lines.

Crayola crayons were the best of all. I’d get a box to go back to school and a bigger box, the wonderful 48 brilliant colors with the built in sharpener, in my Christmas stocking. When I was really young, I just called the colors red, blue or green. To differentiate, I’d just say light blue or dark red. I didn’t know names like cerulean or turquoise blue. Raw sienna totally threw me. There were so many reds you couldn’t keep track. Light red, dark red and just plain red weren’t enough. There was brick red and Indian red and maroon, my dark red’s real name.

I had a certain artistic style. The yellow sun always had rays coming out from the whole circle. Girls had turned up hair and boys just had a little on the top. Their hair was always brown. I’d put a skirt on the girls which looked liked a funnel. The boys just had stick legs. I don’t know why I didn’t add pants. My flowers were petals of different colors and each had a long green stem coming from the green grass. The trees had bare branches and were almost stick figures.

I never did get good at drawing. I suspect that if I were given a 64 pack of crayons, I’d start with a bright yellow sun with rays extending from the whole circle. It wouldn’t be lemon yellow or green yellow or orange yellow. Nope, mine would just be plain old yellow.