Posted tagged ‘chilly breeze’

“You are a child of humanity and every day is your precious birthday.”

April 11, 2017

This early in spring is the only time I regret living near the ocean. The cold water keeps spring at bay. Look at today: Boston will be in the high 70’s and may even reach 80˚ to break the record temperature for the day. We are in the 60’s with a chilling breeze. All records are safe.

I’m sitting on the couch with an afghan wrapped around me just because it feels good. I had a 9 o’clock meeting this morning, and I wasn’t happy when Alexa woke me up. I’m thinking a nap later.

I’ve been sitting here trying to come up with a bit of history for today, a story of growing up or of growing older. I have tons of stories. I remember my 16th birthday. We were in Maine, in Ogunquit. My aunt and uncle were there as well. My birthday was their anniversary. They got married and I got born. I was a bit put out by their being in Maine with us. I wouldn’t have minded sharing any other birthday, but I minded sharing my 16th. I didn’t show up for the joint cake. I think it was one of those cut off your nose to spite your face sort of decisions.

My 21st birthday was memorable. I got to drink legally for the first time. One of my friends sent me a magnum of champagne. Other friends took me out to dinner. It was a fun meal until the bill. I expected my dinner to be paid for. It wasn’t. My friends had split the bill among the four of us, but they forgot the tip. I paid that. My friends found out when trying to reimburse one another for my dinner and drinks. They were horrified, and a bit embarrassed.

I feel as if I am emerging from hibernation. The sun and the warm temperatures are drawing me outside. It is too soon for an open window, but I can hardly wait for the closed air of winter to disappear and be replaced by the clean fresh air.

The other morning, for the first time, I heard the birds greet the new day. That smacks of spring.

“Know the rules well, so you can break them effectively.”

February 22, 2016

I saw them this morning right beside the front steps. My snowdrops, the first real stirrings of spring, have bloomed. Those tiny white flowers have endured snow, below zero temperatures and freezing rain. They are my heroes of spring flowers. They bring hope and joy. Seeing them made me almost giddy. Today is a good day.

The sun is bright but the chilly breeze makes it sweatshirt cold. I have a few stops including the hardware store, not often on my list, and Agway for cat food and litter, two boring places for shopping. I just can’t get excited about nails or screws or wire. As for Agway, they have flowers come spring which redeem the other parts of the store, the boring parts.

I always used to wonder what was under the headpieces the nuns wore. I thought nuns were bald until once I saw a tiny bit of hair from under a coif. I never understood why their outfits were called habits and why most of their habits were black and white, even their thick stockings were black. When my aunt the nun didn’t have to wear a habit any more, she dressed in normal clothes. She also had the worst taste in clothing. I suspect it was because of decades of wearing her habit and not having to choose what to wear or how to accessorize.

Nuns in habits were a bit scary looking when I was young. Most weren’t mean but the habits made them look as if they had the ability to be. A glaring, burning look was all a nun needed for discipline. It wasn’t until I was in the eighth grade that I heard one yell. She was Sister Hildegarde, a legend among us. Even now we all still remember Sister Hildegarde and each of us has a favorite story. I liked her because she was oblivious. I left school during the day, but I always asked permission. She always gave it and never once asked a question about where I was going. I’d just tell her I had to leave but I’d be back. I’d wander around the square, go to the library or have a picnic near the benches at the town hall. I’d mosey back to school after an hour or more of freedom. She’d nod at me to acknowledge my return when I came in and sat down. Usually my friend Jimmy was with me. He took the same delight I did in skirting the line. Nobody else ever came with us. I don’t think they had the same sense of adventure we did or maybe they were just a bit scared. We did it for the fun of it.

“Oh, this is a wonderful parade.”

October 13, 2013

Well, my boys of summer lost 1-0 last night. It was a one hitter and that hit didn’t come until the last of the ninth when Nava, the $1.00 wonder, hit a single. Pitching duels are well-played games but are boring for spectators. We love to see balls, hit by the good guys, sail out of the park. We want a show.

Today has a chilly breeze with a here again gone again sun. I went out for brunch then waited around for two hours for the Seaside Festival parade to begin. I had my iPad so I was content just sitting and waiting. The road was filled with cars, and the line looked endless. This holiday weekend is the last hurrah for the Cape, and it seems as if much of the world has come to enjoy it.

The parade was so hometown. The only outside music came from UMass Lowell’s band, and they must have thought they’d taken a wrong turn somewhere. St. Pius Elementary School had a small band, and I didn’t recognize what they were playing. The local high school sounded good as did the two pipe and drum units, both local. The floats defied description, but I was able to figure out the theme It had something to do with summer as all the floats had umbrellas, beach toys and blown up sharks or whales. Most of the floats seemed to be filled with people throwing candy. There were several antique cars and, of course, the girl scouts and boy scouts. No hometown parade is worth its salt without scouts. A cheerleading school strutted its stuff and cheered their way passed me. The fire department started and ended the parade with sirens and bells.

The crowd seemed pleased, and I really enjoyed the parade as it reminded me of my hometown’s Memorial Day parade which hasn’t changed a bit in all these years. Today I got to wave at the people I know who were riding on floats or in cars. My friends and I chatted as they marched by me. I clapped for the bands and the floats. It wasn’t a long parade, but it was my childhood revisited, and I was happy.