Posted tagged ‘Blanket’

“We take a last look out of the window at the night, and I send a silent wish to everyone out there for this kind of warmth.”

October 26, 2017

The rain has been a deluge at times and hasn’t completely stopped since Tuesday night. We’ve had somewhere between three and four inches of rain. Streets are flooded. Yesterday my mailman said he couldn’t get down the street beside mine as there was such a huge puddle he was afraid his truck wouldn’t make it. Gracie squats as close to the door as she can. She is no dumb animal. I have to go to the dump today so I’m hoping for a lull.

When I was a kid, rain and leaves meant walking carefully on my way to school. It was easy to slip and fall. The wet leaves covered the sidewalks as if glued to them by the rain. Mostly the downed leaves were yellow. It was a yellow brick road.

We didn’t carry umbrellas, and I didn’t have a raincoat. I always got soaked. In school, I’d just have to sit and wait to dry. At home after school, I usually put on my pajamas and slippers. They were my cozy clothes. I always wore slipper socks with anti-slide bottoms. I got a new pair every Christmas. Even now I have a couple of pairs, but they are old, and stretched. The toe ends are longer than my feet, and I have to keep pulling the sock part up, but that doesn’t matter. My feet stay toasty warm.

A cold spell is coming which just means the weather will be more seasonal. The nights will get down to the 40’s. It’s time to use my blanket and snuggle under the down.

Stews, casseroles and soups are winter meals to me. My mother would sometimes fill our lunch box thermoses with soup. She always included Saltines and a dessert. Most times she remembered the spoons, but sometimes she didn’t so I’d slurp my soup from the thermos cup being careful not to let the soup spill. I wasn’t always successful.

I haven’t gotten dressed yet. I am comfy and cozy. In a while I’ll drag myself upstairs, get dressed, fill the car with trash, brave the rain and go to the dump. When I get home, it’s back to cozy.

“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.

Don’t grow up too quickly, lest you forget how much you love the beach.”

July 8, 2012

We’re still in a heat wave of sorts. It’s not as hellish as the south or the mid-west, but it is far too hot for us this time of year. I’m still inside where it’s cool. Later, though, I’ll have to venture out as I still need a few things for tonight.

Saturday night was drive-in movie night. We, of course, always wore our pajamas. I remember when I was around 5 or 6 and I left the car by myself to go the bathroom telling my parents I’d be fine. I found the bathroom but couldn’t find our car afterwards. I went up and down the rows getting more and more panicky. Finally I went to the concession stand. They announced me over the car speakers, and my dad came and rescued me. I was still young enough to feel relieved instead of embarrassed. My dad was an impatient man. The idea of waiting in a long line to exit the drive-in was totally unappealing so he’d get a head start on the traffic. We left before the movie was over. My father guessed at the end time, but I have no idea how close his guesses were. I just know I watched a silent movie as we left the drive-in.

By this time most Sundays, my dad would have packed up the car for the beach. That meant the tartan cooler, the picnic basket, the blanket, towels and shirts for sun protection. We didn’t have any sunscreen back then except for my mother who’d make us cover up before we got too burned. My mother was fastidious about keeping the sand off the blanket. She’d let us sit down as long as our feet were stretched out across the sand. During the day she was known to move everything off the blanket a few times so she could shake the sand off it because that blanket was where my mother perched the whole day except maybe for a walk on the beach in the afternoon with my sisters who wanted to look for shells, and on really hot days when she’d sometimes tip her toes into the ocean, but that was always as far in as she dared. We were the water bugs.

My dad worked a long week and often didn’t make it home for dinner. On summer Saturday mornings, he did errands and household chores like mowing the lawn, but the rest of the weekend he spent with us. Even though I never saw the movies end, I loved going to the drive-in and nothing was better than Sunday at the beach.