Posted tagged ‘busy morning’

“My dog is worried about the economy because Alpo is up to $3.00 a can. That’s almost $21.00 in dog money.”

November 16, 2015

Oh the morning I’ve had! Gracie and I went to the vets as she has been licking one spot and is also dripping drool (not a pretty sight) from one side of her mouth. The licking was because she has a diaper rash or what would be a diaper rash if she were a baby. It is in the same area a baby’s rash would be. The vet told me to baby wipe her rash and then use Gold Pond powder. As for the drool, she has this little hanging thing down from her gums. It isn’t uncommon. She also has really bad teeth, but I already knew that and have tried to clean them unsuccessfully. The vet recommended surgery to clean her teeth and get rid of the hangy thing. The problem is she has an irregular heart beat so surgery could be a problem. I had to make an appointment at the cardiologist’s office for Gracie to be evaluated. The vet complimented me when he said Gracie looks great. Her fur is shiny and she has held her weight.

My brother-in-law said he and my sister would like to fly me to Colorado for Christmas, and I would love to go, but Gracie presents a problem. I have been calling kennels all over the cape looking for a spot for her over Christmas but have not been successful as it is so late and all the places are booked except one, but Gracie doesn’t like other dogs so she can’t be in the general population where there is space. She needs solitary confinement. I have connected with friends hoping they had friends who might like to stay here while I’m gone. Prospects are looking grim.

Today is a perfect fall day. It is sweatshirt weather, warm and sunny. The air is still. The shower of pine needles has stopped for now. The sunlight is different this time of year. Every day as it moves it seems to touch different places than it did even as close the day before.

I have to fill the feeders and clean the bird bath as the poor birds were disappointed this morning. Even the woodpecker was checking for seeds. Luckily I have suet.

Gracie is asleep on the couch and she’s snoring. It has been a busy morning for her and for me too as I also had to stop at the store for baby wipes.

I see a nap for me coming on in the near future

“To travel is to take a journey into yourself.”

September 15, 2015

Such a busy morning it has been. Fern and her caterwauling woke me again, but I didn’t mind as much as it was after nine. I emptied cat boxes, fed the beasties then went downstairs. I made coffee, got and read the papers. Gracie was barking incessantly but I couldn’t figure out the reason. She came in when I called then I shut down the dog door for a bit. I looked at my e-mail and found out I needed to call the GOES site as it seems I have two accounts: one is the renewal I just did and a second account I must have started. Five times I tried to reach a human being but all circuits are busy. (The GOES program is for trusted travelers: I skip customs, stop at a kiosk, put my hand on the screen for fingerprint ID then get an entry pass. The last time I used it I beat the crew outside.) I am skeptical that all circuits are busy so I used the e-mail form for problems, but I don’t have much faith in that either.

The thought of flying always gave me a sense of awe when I was a kid. We’d go to Logan when we visited my grandparents so we could watch the planes take off and land. My uncle, only two years older than I, led the way. The Logan terminal back then was one long building shared by all the airlines. We used to walk through, and I’d take brochures of hotels, airlines and whatever else was offered. One time I made a scrapbook of my vacation, my imaginary vacation. I used pictures cut from the brochures and wrote a story to go along with each picture. I imagined the flight and wrote about the clouds below me and being so far above the ground. I described the airline dinner and the fun of eating on a plane. My hotel room was beautiful and overlooked the ocean. We ate dinner in ornate restaurants where the waiters wore white jackets and black cummerbunds. I found beautiful shells along the shore as souvenirs. I fell asleep happy and contended every night. It was the best vacation.

“If one mouse is a spark…then ten thousand are a conflagration.”

April 24, 2014

The morning has already been a busy one. I let Gracie out then heard a bang. I turned and saw the gate had flown open. I looked for Gracie hoping she hadn’t escaped and then I saw her still in the yard, close to the gate. I yelled stay as if that had any meaning for Gracie then ran down the stairs and shut the gate. Catastrophe was averted.

The second problem started last night when I went to do laundry. I was about to stuff the clothes in the washer when I noticed a baby mouse in the tub of the washing machine. I used my sweatshirt, captured the tiny thing and just threw him over the fence. I imagine he’ll be back. Figuring there were more, I went looking and found my have-a-heart trap. I tried to set it but one end wouldn’t work. The mouse would have eaten the goodies then left on the side which didn’t close. I decided to use the weird trap I’d bought a while back. It is small, a circular wire cage on a piece of wood. The top has a hole but when the mouse enters the hole it can’t get out because of wire prongs circling the bottom of that hole. In the front is a small escape hatch with a wire hook which I have to open to free the beast. I decided to give it try, threw in some bread and put it in the cellar in a spot I can see from the stairs. This morning I looked and lo and behold I had my first mouse. Gracie and I went for a ride. I stopped to free the beastie, but I couldn’t get it to leave the trap. He held on no matter what I did, including a bit of tail tugging. Finally I banged the wood with the trap door facing the ground and out the mouse fell. He was gone to his new neighborhood in a heartbeat. At least he’d been well fed before the trip.

I changed my bed, finished my book, emptied the litter boxes, cleaned out the fridge, did two loads of laundry, caught mice and watered the plants. I need a vacation.

Yesterday it rained all day. At times we had thunder and even some hail. Today is sunny but still a bit chilly. Gracie and I have a leftover errand postponed from yesterday, and that’s it for the day. I’m done in!

“I love zombies. If any monster could Riverdance, it would be zombies.”

April 1, 2014

This has been a busy morning. First was a follow-up doctor’s appointment in Hyannis then the optometrist in South Yarmouth to get my glasses fixed. The easy part was putting them back together. The difficult part was trying to straighten out the ear pieces. They were all bent from my fall into the roots. All went well. Next was getting the dog license and paying my car excise tax, both at the Dennis town hall. Last was a stop for bread, some fruit and a cupcake. It was there I dropped the new dog license and it disappeared. Three people looked and it was nowhere to be found. We figured it bounced onto shelf or was somehow transported to a parallel world.

The sun was out for five minutes. My glasses even tinted, but it clouded up again. I am the little girl in Ray Bradbury’s All Summer in a Day. The clouds are on their fourth day. Today is cold, in the high 30’s.

Zombies have taken over. Vampires are passé. Zombies are far uglier and fairly difficult to kill though they are already dead. Usually a bullet to the head or lopping off the head means a permanent end to the zombie. Today I watched Detention of the Dead. High schoolers in detention have to fight ravenous zombies who have taken over their school. It was actually funny, sort of a zombie ridden Breakfast Club.

Aliens and monsters have a heyday then disappear. No more are we attacked by creatures like the giant ants created by the nuclear blasts of the fifties. Tokyo is no longer a fun target for Godzilla and his kin. The space station doesn’t attract aliens the way a mission to Mars did. We have become unimaginative. Zombies are just too easy. Rip a bit of flesh, walk stiffly and have blood dripping. Where’s the creativity in that?

“Coloring outside the lines is a fine art. “

November 18, 2013

I am not in favor of busy mornings. Today was a busy morning. It was all medical, scheduled stuff, which took over two hours. I am glad to be home. Slippers are back on as are my comfy clothes. I am done doing for the day.

61˚ here right now. The sun was here earlier hiding behind a cloud. It comes and goes. The sky is blue in spots and white cloudy in other spots. The day is a nice one. Chillier weather starts tomorrow.

We used to color a lot when I was in elementary school. This time of year it was turkeys and cornucopias though I had no idea that’s what they were called. The classroom was quiet when we colored. It took concentration to stay inside the lines especially if the crayons had dulled. I always tried to do the best coloring I could knowing my pictures were destined for the refrigerator art gallery. My nephews gave me some of their colored turkeys. I put them on my fridge art gallery every Thanksgiving. The pictures are from their pre-school days when lines were arbitrary.

Soon enough I’ll pull out my old wooden nut bowl with the silver nutcracker and silver picks for pulling the meat from the shells. My mother always put her nut bowl out before thanksgiving. We used to open the nuts while we watched the parade. I remember shells flying and a pile of them on the table. I liked Brazil nuts. Walnuts were too dry.

“Squirrel, I am a threat to you! We are enemies! Please get off my bench! Oh, god! Oh, god! Don’t touch me—oh, god!”

June 10, 2013

The morning has been a busy one already. I woke so early I was able to read both papers, do another load of laundry, make my bed and go out for breakfast. When I got home, I found, to my dismay, my tranquility had disappeared and been replaced by the sounds of workmen next door who are taking down the old shingles. Hammering on the new will be next. The house certainly did need a face life. Nothing has been done to it since it was built. The house is a summer rental, and upkeep is not a priority. I would love to see the inside as I’m thinking retro 70’s.

A summer ritual will be performed today. I’m replacing the storm door in the back with the screen door. The day is already hot and hazy and a little cross air would cool the house. That door faces the south, and, in the summer, that’s the direction from which all my breezes come.

I already feel accomplished today and don’t think I’ll do much else. I have a new book to read, and it’s been a while since I just sat  and read all day. I’m thinking lounging on the couch might work perfectly.

A long while back I bought Converse high top sneakers in a variety of colors. I know I have pink and purple pairs. It might just be time to start wearing them again. I have reached that age when wearing whatever I want will cause no stir. People will look, see that I am older and just accept what I’m wearing as the vagaries of older age. I think it’s a perk. Most times I don’t go anywhere which requires a certain dress. Putting on a blouse or a shirt is dressing up for me. I spent too many years in dresses, panty hose and fancy but sensible shoes. Now I want comfort, just comfort.

I have so many t-shirts. Some are souvenirs my friends brought back or I bought on one of my adventures. Some are TV shows like M.A.S.H. and Hill Street Blues. A few are music groups, and I even have a Pete Seeger. Some others are ads and were free t-shirts. I have two favorites. One says, “Let’s eat grandma! Let’s eat, grandma. Punctuation saves lives.” The other has to do with the spawns. It says, “I have reason to believe the squirrels are mocking me.” Truer words were never written!

‘I don’t know why, but the meals we have on picnics always taste so much nicer than the ones we have indoors,’ said George.”

May 14, 2013

Although it is only a bit after 10, I have already had a busy morning in contrast to yesterday’s day of sloth. I woke up at 6:30 to the sound of raindrops, came downstairs, went to get the papers then read both of them. When I was finished, I went upstairs and  changed my bed. As I unfurled the bottom sheet, a sock flew out of the corner, the missing sock to one of the few pairs I have without holes. I never throw socks away. I always figure the shoe hides the holes. I then finished the bed, got dressed and left for my 9 o’clock library board meeting. Our biggest agenda item was choosing between plastic or wood for planting tubs and between Alberta Spruce and some other bush with a Japanese sounding name. We went wooden and the bush with a Japanese sounding name. I tried to Google the name of the bush and put into Google Odd Bush with Japanese sounding name, but George W. kept appearing. That gave me a bit of a chuckle. My next stops were the post office and the pharmacy. My last stop was voting in the town election. The big race is for selectman, three running for two spots. There were also two requests for tax overrides and a non-binding question as to whether the nuclear plant in Plymouth should be closed. People are a bit edgy that the evacuation route means driving by the plant. While I was driving all over town doing errands, the sun came out and the sky turned a light blue. It is, however, still a bit cold, only in the low 50’s. My heat came on this morning.

When I was a kid, we never went on a picnic just for the sake of a picnic. We’d eat outside sitting on the back steps which is, I suppose, a cousin to the picnic; however, I do remember stopping at rest areas and eating at picnic benches but only on long rides, usually to somewhere for vacation. We ate at the beach, but it was the water and the sand which drew us, not a picnic. My mother had a picnic basket and a red Tartan jug. She made great sandwiches, and there were usually chips and Oreos.

When I was in Ghana, we went on picnics just for the fun of a picnic. We’d bring the small charcoal burner, some hot dogs from a can or from the meat factory that used to be in Bolga, bread, chopped tomatoes and onions and probably something for dessert though I don’t remember what. I’m leaning toward the sweet donuts or the toasted coconut balls. We’d load up then ride our motorcycles a bit into the bush. Once I remember being near Tonga and another time paying guys to haul our bikes across a small pond. We’d sit on a blanket, enjoy our lunch and watch Ghana. I loved those picnics.

Here on the cape we used to have picnics on a hill overlooking the Grist Mill. We’d climb and complain about it as we carried the basket of goodies and the drinks. I remember being so glad to reach the top and hurrying to spread out the blanket so I could collapse. We’d stay for hours.

We’d bring picnics to Sunday night band concerts every week. We all took turns bringing the appetizer, the dinner or the dessert and then we’d share. Another time we had a picnic before a town meeting. Lots of people did. We all sat about the baseball field or the bleachers enjoying dinner from a basket. The meeting was with both towns about the school budget and was on the high school football field. The chairs were under a tent and I thought it had a bit of the circus about it. A group of musicians played before the meeting and the snack bar was open. That was a long time ago.

I think it’s time to bring back picnics and Tartan jugs.


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