Posted tagged ‘baskets’

“You’re traveling all over the world but to be home is something special.”

August 5, 2017

The air is damp yet again and makes me feel closed in, hemmed in by the humidity. Rain is predicted for late this afternoon but the gray sky doesn’t look like a rain sky. It looks as it has in days, just gray.

Our Saturday movie night is going to be Sunday movie night because of the weather, the possibility of rain tonight. I have three new movies from which to choose: a new, unbroken Four Feathers, To Kill a Mockingbird and An American Werewolf in London. I’m leaning toward the last one. It has humor and a werewolf, an unbeatable combination.

I had to go around the parking lot three times yesterday before I found a space. It was almost right in front of the store. I gave thanks to the God of parking. I was in and out quickly, but now I find I need to go back. I didn’t read all of the recipe. I missed the sauce and its two ingredients. I figure to wait for the afternoon or for the rain.

I have a project. On the bottom shelf of my large metal table are three baskets. I keep putting stuff in them but take nothing out. They are mini closets, catch-alls for stuff I don’t know where else to put. My mother always had a junk drawer in the kitchen. My baskets are my junk drawers. I’m going to use a large trash bag for debris when I go through each basket. I’m hoping to find some surprises.

When I got home from Ghana and was hoping to find a teaching job, it never occurred to me to find a job which required international travel. I don’t know why unless it was just needing to get used to home again as I wasn’t happy here for a long time. I missed Ghana, the friendliness of the Ghanaians, the fun of market day, fresh fruit at lunch, the spectacular night sky, the wonderful smell of wood burning and so much more. It took me a while to notice the best parts of home.

Newspapers are making a comeback. The Washington Post and The New York Times, among others, are booming. Last November The Times signed up 130,000 new subscribers. I remember when I was a kid there were morning and evening papers, even special editions when something happened. I also remember getting ink all over my fingertips when I read the paper. I was mostly interested in the comics. My dad read the whole paper while he was having coffee. He got the Globe when he was a democrat and switched to the Herald when he became a republican. I get the Globe and the Cape Times. As did my father, I read the whole paper, each paper except I skip the international news in the Times having already read it in the Globe. I have a cup of coffee with each paper. I am my father’s daughter.

“Christmas is a day of meaning and traditions, a special day spent in the warm circle of family and friends.”

December 20, 2016

The sun decided to make an appearance today. I guess it is a bit of a reward for surviving the cold of last night. Today is about 40˚,  warm for the depths of winter.

My mother never disappointed us at Christmas. When I was really young, Santa always brought me something from my list. Under the tree, they’d be my big gift, a new game, books, and even clothes. I loved the clothes as they were what everyone was wearing. I remember some of my favorites over the years like the white fluffy sweater, the gold necklace, the ski pants with the loops, the over the head parka with a zippered pocket across the chest, and a wool skirt. The books were classics or mysteries. The games were ones the whole family could play. Santa didn’t take the time to wrap our gifts. They were arranged under the tree. I remember looking over the banister as I walked down the stairs and being thrilled and excited. I might have even squealed with joy.

We had Christmas stockings when we were young, but when we were adults, my mother used all sorts of pseudo stockings like a basket, a really neat shopping bag or something old she’d found like a coal hod. She wrapped every stocking stuffer which heightened the excitement so I always wrapped every stocking stuffer for her and later for my sisters. Now I do the same for my friends. I am a wrapping phenomenon at Christmas.

My dad was never all that excited about Christmas. He would reluctantly open his presents long after the rest of us had finished. When he was a kid, Christmas was not a big deal. It was socks and underwear. My mother, though, loved Christmas and my dad just went with it. He always told my mother not to mention what she’d spent. He had a favorite part of Christmas, the food. He loved all the goodies and would make himself a plate and pour a glass of milk to take into the living room so he could nosh and watch.

Today has no lists. I’m going to hang around the house, maybe do laundry, but the laundry bag is still upstairs. It needs to sit in front of the cellar door for a couple of days before I get to it or I need to run out of underwear, whichever comes first.

“But mothers lie. It’s in the job description.”

March 26, 2016

Today is a bit bleak and a little chilly. The Easter Bunny better bundle up tonight to make his rounds. I’m imagining the Bunny wearing a warm jacket, wool socks on his feet and matching mittens on his hands. In keeping with the season, he’ll also be wearing a brightly colored bow tie. It is, after all, spring.

When I was a kid, we always took baths on Saturdays. When I was older and into multiple baths each week, I wondered why only one bath a week back then. We were kids, we got dirty playing outside. Washing hands and faces couldn’t have been enough. I’m thinking we had a layer of dirt the other five days, not six because on Sunday we started out clean.

I always thought we were lucky Easter was on a Sunday. I was young. I believed in the Easter Bunny. What did I know of lent and the liturgy? I figured we were lucky because we only had to take the one bath which served two purposes, our Saturday night ritual and getting clean for Easter.

We never hounded my mother about letting us go to bed early on Easter Eve the way we did on Christmas Eve. The Easter Bunny seldom brought surprises. We knew we’d find a few small toys, maybe a coloring book and crayons and a stuffed animal, mostly a rabbit. There was always a giant chocolate rabbit. I remember once I bit into my rabbit and found it was hollow. It was a mere shell. I complained to my mother about the rabbit being a bit deceptive. She agreed.

All the jelly beans except the black ones tasted the same to me. That’s probably why black jelly beans are still a favorite of mine. I don’t like black licorice so it is a bit of puzzle why I like the black jelly beans. I think they must be most people’s favorite because now you can buy a package of just black ones. I remember looking at my tongue in the mirror after I ate the black jelly beans. My whole tongue was black. I thought it was kind of neat.

When I was a kid, my mother had a way to make us tell the truth. It had nothing to do with morality. She’d ask us if we had done whatever like breaking a dish or a glass and all four of us would say no. My mother would say it must have been the ghost. We’d all nod in agreement and hoped it ended it there. It didn’t. The test was next. My mother told us our tongues turned black when we told a lie. We’d check in the mirror, but she also had that covered. Only mothers can see the back tongue she told us. She’d then ask each of us in turn to show her our tongues. The guilty party wouldn’t. He’d put his hand over his mouth so my mother couldn’t see. Nabbed! I don’t remember how long that worked, but it was a wonder. My mother always found the guilty party. I thought she was amazing.

“One who roams the channels after dark, searching for buried treasure.”

January 8, 2013

When I woke up, I thought it was raining. I could hear steady drips from the eaves, but I was delightfully surprised when I saw the sun and a blue sky. The day is warm, winter warm, and the drips are from the roof as the rest of the ice melts. The birds are at the feeders which I filled yesterday. I watched them for a while from the kitchen window while my coffee was brewing.

Yesterday was a weird sort of day. As I said, I filled the feeders and while on the deck I also emptied ice off the furniture covers. In the house I wanted to find spots for a few new items. One is a picture I bought on my first trip to Ghana which had gouges on its frame so I finally had it reframed. I walked around the house looking for a spot. I finally found one, hammered a small nail, hung the picture, stood back and realized the picture was too high. I pulled out the nail, hammered it into a lowered spot, stood back and decided it was perfect. Meanwhile, I have new runner on the table, a Christmas gift from my sister. It is a runner with African designs and is beautiful, but it’s dark so I decided I needed to change the decorative stuff on the table to lighter “stuff” so I went hunting. In the process of hunting I found a wooden house which lights up and has been in the same spot for years. I never light it up so I decided to move it. I went to a small table in the dark side of the living room, but there was Ghanaian cloth from my ceremony on it so I moved the cloth to the couch for the meantime. The small house was just right for the table. It was lit last night and gave that side of the room just enough ambient light. Meanwhile, what to do with the cloth? I got my huge Bolga baskets which is on the lower shelf of a big table and is filled with a carved gourd, tea lights and all sorts of candles. I took those out and put the cloth in which worked out just fine. The only problem was the tea lights and the gourd. I looked and decided to clean out a basket in this room, and that’s where I put the teas lights. Still with me here? Left over from all this juggling was the etched gourd from Ghana which had been in the big basket and a wooden box with a votive holder and candles which had also been in the basket. (I did say it was a huge basket.) I walked around trying to figure out where to put both of those. By this time, I’d been at this weird little game for over an hour. I put the gourd back in the baskets over the cloth. That seems to defeat the purpose of showing off the cloth so I took the gourd out. I did check out some wall space, but it’s a big gourd. I never did find a spot so it’s on the couch waiting for me to start all over. I don’t remember where I put the wooden box, but I’m sure it will show up sometime, probably later when I walk around the house trying to decide where to put the gourd.

“Sunday is the golden clasp that binds together the volume of the week”

May 20, 2012

Yesterday was a Kathleen day, one fraught with danger, mishaps and bodily injury. My back was bad so it took me forever to haul in my purchases from the plant sale. I grabbed the fence post for support while I opened the gate and got a splinter in my thumb. It was a small one but digging it out hurt nonetheless. I banged my wrist on the table edge and got a huge bruise which is still there but the swelling has gone down. That’s a good thing. I hit the top of my head twice on the same cabinet. The first time was happenstance while the second time was stupidity. I have my baskets on a rod from the ceiling in the dining room, each basket having its own arm. I was adding a basket which meant rearranging, and I hit the basket with the lavender stalks and knocked the stalks to the floor. They fell and, being dried, tiny blossoms were all over the place. It took a while to sweep those up. Cody, Gracie’s friend, came to visit and his tail swished across my succulent garden and dirt was spread over the floor. I cleaned that up too. The last straw was when the cabinet door where the kitchen trash basket is came off in my hand. It seems the screw holes have gotten too big for the screws. I immediately shut the door as well as I could, dragged myself upstairs and took a nap.

Last night, wary of moving too much, I stayed on the couch. I am always an accident waiting to happen so I figured the couch was a safe refuge from the plight of every day living. It was and I had the pleasure of an easy night and a Red Sox win.

Today is another beautiful day, and it is already 68°. The dog has been outside all morning, and a while ago she was resting on the lounge in the sun. I think we’ll be fighting for that spot later in the afternoon.

Enjoy your Sunday.

“Here comes Peter Cottontail right down the bunny trail…”

April 23, 2011

Today is gray and rainy. When I went to get the newspapers, it was misting. The temperature is only45°. I really don’t want much, only a warm, sunny day. I’ll even take just one. The birds haven’t dropped by to visit though the feeders are filled. I did see a red spawn of Satan sitting in one of my feeders. I scared it away though I know it will be back.

Easter Eve was never like Christmas Eve. The Easter Bunny always played second fiddle to Santa Claus. We did spend today, the Saturday before Easter, coloring eggs. We used wax and wrote our names on some of them before dipping them into the dye. I still remember the egg holder in the refrigerator was lined with colored hard boiled eggs after Easter. It was always kind of neat to eat one. The big excitement for Easter was always new clothes. We wore uniforms to school so we didn’t need too many dresses or skirts and new clothes were an infrequent treat. I always thought the best part of the new clothes was they weren’t presents. I hated getting clothes for Christmas. I always figured they were taking the place of some neat toy or game.

Our baskets were on the kitchen table though I think I remember a few years when they were left by the Easter Bunny on our bureaus. My mother always made them up herself. A huge chocolate rabbit was always front and center. Jelly beans were strewn all through the plastic grass which clung to everything. There were multi-colored hard eggs which had a hard white center. Wrapped chocolate eggs were also hidden in the grass. Coloring books, new crayons, wooden paddles with a red ball on an elastic, a stuffed animal and other small toys were also in the basket. We’d check out our baskets then head right to the candy. The ears were always the first to go.

I’d go to my parents’ house every Easter, and I always made each of them a basket. It had their favorite candy and whatever neat little things I could find. My dad always got a word search book and my mother got a crossword puzzle book. I used to sneak into their room and leave the baskets on their bureaus. They never once caught the Easter Bunny!


%d bloggers like this: