Posted tagged ‘cold’
November 21, 2014
Today is downright cold. The sun is shining but the light is weak and muted. The pine tree limbs in the backyard are swaying from the wind as are the dead leaves still hanging off the ends of branches. I had an early appointment and was out of the house before nine. It was 31˚. Now it is a lovely 34˚, basking weather, almost deck weather.
Yesterday I was a whirlwind of activity. Not only did I finish my four errands, but I also swept the kitchen floor, cleaned the top of the stove, dusted and polished a couple of tables and changed my bed. I was exhausted.
When I woke up this morning, Gracie was in a ball right beside my head and between the two pillows. I figured she must have gotten cold during the night, and I was warmth.
I remember well Thanksgivings when I was a kid. For some reason my mother was always up with the birds as she used to say. She’d get busy making the stuffing first. I can still see her using her hands to mix the bread chunks with the other ingredients including Bell’s seasoning. Even now, all these years later, one sniff of Bell’s brings back my mother and all the turkeys of her lifetime. She’d finish the stuffing then put it in the bird. My mother used a giant roasting pan which just fit into the oven. It was oval and blue with white specks. She’d put the turkey and the turkey neck into the pan then the pan went into the oven though sometimes my dad did the oven as the pan was too heavy for my mother. At nine we’d settle in to watch the Macy’s parade. My mother put out tangerines, mixed nuts and M&M’s for our watching pleasure.
It didn’t take long for the wonderful aroma of turkey to spread about the house. My mother, still in the kitchen, would start on the vegetables. Always we had mashed potatoes. I think it is against the law not to have them on Thanksgiving. Creamed onions, canned asparagus for my dad, green bean casserole and later the squash casserole, our all time favorite, would be prepared in no particular order. Before the big day my mother had made the pies: apple, lemon meringue and one more, usually pumpkin or custard. With the left over crust she’d make the turds as my dad called them which always made us laugh. They were rolled dough with cinnamon and sugar in the middle which had been baked in the oven.
I remember the kitchen windows covered with steam from all the cooking, the aromas of the different dishes and how special the whole day seemed.
I put out mixed nuts and buy tangerines. I watch the parade. I make a pie and this year I figure I’ll make some turds. My dad would be happy.
Categories: Musings
Tags: aroma of turkey, Bell's seasoning, cold, cold night, exhaustion, making Thanksgiving dinner, mashed potatos, muted sun, pies, squash casserole, steamed windows, Turkey, whirlwind of activity, windy
Comments: 18 Comments
March 22, 2014
Winter is a solitary season. I sit in my warm house with the doors shut against the cold. My neighbors and I wave as we drive pass each other going one place and another. The world goes quiet when it’s winter, and I seldom hear outside sounds except for the rain and the wind. I have more sloth days in winter than in any other season. Winter days are for flannel, sweatshirts and warm socks. Winter nights are for down comforters. I read, sometimes the whole day into the night. I like soups and stews and macaroni and cheese. An afternoon nap is a bit of bliss. I abide winter in its turn.
This time of year is the yin-yang season, the time of winter and spring. It is the most frustrating of all the seasons because it isn’t really one or the other. The calendar says spring but the weather is sometimes wintry, cold and even snowy. Two warm days lull us into thinking it is spring then a day of 23˚ throws winter right back at us. The only consolation is in the garden where the spring bulbs have become flowers bursting with color. Today will be warm. Tomorrow will be in the 20’s during the day and the teens at night.
Summer is the social season. I am out and about a couple of evenings each week and spend my days on the deck sitting under the trees, sometimes reading, sometimes just sitting. My friends and I have our movie nights and game nights. My neighbors are out in their yards mowing and raking and playing with their kids. I can hear their voices from my house. The birds are loudest in the morning when they greet the new day. I love the songs they sing. The front garden is filled with flowers of every color, and I always stop to admire it when I go to get my papers. The rain in summer seems gentler even with thunder and lightning. Sometimes I sit under my outside umbrella during a rainstorm just to hear the drops. I love summer nights with all the sounds of night birds, the flickering of fireflies in the backyard and the candlelight glowing from the glass tree hangings. Summer is just so glorious.
Fall is the magnificent season, my favorite of them all. The garden shops are filled with pumpkins and mums whose colors are a bit muted, perfect for fall, the end of the growing season. It is still warm here during the day but cools a bit during the night. In late fall, when even the days get cool, I always think they are a slow easing into winter, a warning about what’s coming. I know winter must have its turn, but I wish it wasn’t at the expense of fall.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bird song, cold, cold nights, flannels, rain, solitary season, spring, summer, sweatshirts, warm days, winter, yin yang
Comments: 18 Comments
March 6, 2014
I could see my lawn yesterday morning. It was a touch of green in a grey world then it snowed, and my lawn disappeared. I wanted to scream. I think maybe I should have.
Last night was cold, really cold. On the news at 11, the weatherman said this is the coldest start to March in history. The paper this morning described tomorrow’s weather as becoming mild with temperatures from 37˚to 40˚. Mild? In what world is 37˚ to 40˚ mild?This morning we have sun, but we also have snow showers. I went and filled the bird feeders off the deck. It took fewer than ten minutes. My hands were freezing when I was done.
It struck me as funny, the wording, though the incident isn’t funny at all. A man sawed off his thumb yesterday, but the weather precluded the use of MedFlight. The man and his thumb were taken by ambulance to Boston.
Yesterday I was busy in the kitchen. My friends and I always watch The Amazing Race together but last Sunday I stayed home and watched the Academy Awards instead. We DVR’ed the race so last night was race night. We have a weekly tradition. We take turns making appetizers and desserts and play games before the race. We play Phase 10, a card game, and Sorry, the best game we know. I’ve been playing it since I was a kid, and I introduced it to friends who now love the game or hate it depending upon what happens. It is often cause for cursing, something I never did as a kid but probably wanted to but didn’t dare.
To get the food ready for the games, I spent a good part of the day chopping, slicing and mixing. It was my turn for appetizers. I made pineapple salsa, fried ravioli and quesadillas. They were all delicious, but the salsa with the quesadillas was spectacular, says I the chef. I used a red, yellow and green pepper, onion and some cumin fried together, mixed three different cheeses then used it all to fill the quesadillas which were then baked. I was a chopping maniac for the pineapple salsa. It had fresh pineapple, a tomato, red onion, a jalapeño pepper and chopped parsley. It was worth the effort and the backache.
The salsa and quesadillas are now on the list of foods for summer if it ever comes.
Categories: Musings
Tags: appetizers and dessert, cold, fried ravioli, grass, mild day, Phase 10, pineapple salsa, quesadillas, really cold, sawed thumb, Snow, Sorry
Comments: 16 Comments
March 1, 2014
Snow is coming on Monday. Wow, I’m just so excited. We haven’t had any in at least three days. The weatherman also says it will be cold for most of the week. What a surprise! I was getting so tired of those high 20 degree days.
Today looks washed-out with light but no sun and some blue but mostly gray skies. The breeze is brisk and chilling.
I make all these plans to go places then I decide that being home and warm is the best place to be. Today I haven’t a choice. I have some must do errands. I will, however, award myself in some way for being fearless in the face of frigid cold and winter’s mighty hand.
I am an explorer. Even when I was a kid I explored. On my bicycle I rode all over town. I’d go down roads I hadn’t ever ridden on before. It wasn’t ever to find anything. It was just to see what was there. From high school in Arlington, it was a dime bus ride to Harvard Square down Mass Ave. It was the best of times for Harvard Square. The Orson Wells Theater, the old kiosk and the Wursthaus were still there. Book stores were everywhere. My friends and I explored the square time and time again. We went down one way streets resembling alleys and found hidden places to eat. We walked Harvard Yard. We never tired of spending a dime to get to the Square. We knew we might just find someplace neat, someplace new.
In college, I was no less an explorer but hardly explored. Books and classes took far too much of my time, and each summer I had to work. I was stuck in one place for what seemed like the longest time. I had a few interesting adventures in college and they helped but weren’t quite enough. My need to explore had expanded well beyond my bicycle and Harvard Square. I wanted new places. I wanted to need maps and hear a foreign language. I wanted the chance to be lost.
I am still an explorer, but my boundaries have expanded well beyond what I dreamed when I was ten. I have been lost several times, and I love finding my way. That’s what explorers do.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bike riding, boundaries, breeze, chilling, cold, college, explorers, getting lost, Harvard Square, Snow, summer work, washed out day, Wursthaus, \exploring
Comments: 12 Comments
February 25, 2014
The cold weather is back and snow may be on the way tomorrow, but I, however, am finally resigned to winter now that it is nearly over. There is no sense complaining. It just makes me grouchy and serves no purpose. Over the weekend it was 50˚, and I got to thinking ahead to barbecue and beach weather. Spring will eventually come. It always does.
My life has a routine. It has always had a routine, but the routine has changed as I have changed and grown older. The longest routine was during the thirty-three years I worked in the high school. I got up the same time every day, came home around the same time and spent my evenings in the same way as I had the day before and the day before that. I never thought of my routine as a rut. I liked my job though for all those years 5 o’clock always struck me as a barbaric time for waking up and getting out of bed. I don’t do that any more. This summer I will celebrate ten years of retirement. The only time I set my clock now is on Mondays for breakfast with my friend at nine. It’s a wonderful thing that I have to set the alarm to get out of bed by eight. I like the routine I find myself living now.
This morning the paper had pictures of purple croci ( I had four years of Latin in high school so I’m going with first declension masculine plural on this one). They are a hopeful sign as are the green shoots in my front garden. I saw a few more this morning which had been hidden under the snow. They made me smile and forget for a moment that it’s cold and a bit raw today.
The world continues to amaze me. Sometimes I am stopped in my tracks. There we are, Gracie and I, just riding along when all of a sudden I am struck by the beauty of the marsh or the colors of the sunset. I’m usually moved to talk out loud and use words like wow or oh my God. It doesn’t matter how many times I have seen the sheer beauty of the ocean or the glory of a sunny day or a sky lit with stars. I can’t help but be overwhelmed. I think it a wonderful thing that we can live years and years and still be moved by the every day.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Alarm clock, cold, come on spring, croci, glory, green shoots, raw day, retirement, routine, stars, sunsets, the beauty of the day, the ocean
Comments: 15 Comments
February 10, 2014
The sun has appeared, disappeared and reappeared. I totally understand why even the sun is despairing. Who’d want to hang around stuck in what feels like a polar weather pattern? We even have a morning breeze making the day feel colder. The dead leaves still hanging at the ends of branches are being blown about as are the tops of the pine trees. We had snow flurries last night which put a soft layer on top of the snow from last week. It wasn’t even an inch, but it is more than enough. I checked the week’s weather in the paper this morning, and it looks as if Thursday may be our salvation. It might just reach 40˚.
Popcorn was one of our TV treats. They were the old fashion kernels. Once one popped, the whole pan had to be shaken or the popcorn would burn. Nothing smells worse than burnt popcorn. My mother was a true believer in butter. She’d melt the butter, put it on the popcorn in stages then use her fingers to mix the popcorn around so you could taste butter all the way to the bottom. My mother had a set of nested white bowls with tulips on them. She used the biggest bowl for the popcorn. Once when she and I were shopping in an antique store, I saw a set of tulip bowls exactly like the ones my mother had. I bought them all because of that popcorn.
Hung across from the toilet in our bathroom when I was young was a picture of a little boy just getting ready for his bath. He carried a brush, soap and a towel and had a halo over his head. His bathrobe was blue and was fuzzy the way old cards and books sometimes were. Santa’s red suit was often fuzzy in the same way. I used to sit and read the verse on that picture. I read it so many times I can still recite from memory. In a B&B in Ireland that same picture with the fuzzy bathrobe hung in the bathroom. I tried to buy it, but the woman didn’t want to sell it. When I got home, I googled the verse and found a metal reproduction. I really wanted fuzzy, but I bought the metal one anyway for my mother’s stocking. She couldn’t believe I remembered it let alone found one. It hung in her upstairs bathroom. Now I have it hanging in mine. The verse, by Mabel Lucie Attwell, starts “Please remember don’t forget, never leave the bathroom wet…”
My childhood lives in my memory drawers, but some of it is also strewn about the house.
Categories: Musings
Tags: buttered popcorn, cold, Little boy taking a bath'fuzzt bathrobe, Mabel Lucie Attwell, never leave the bathroom wet...", Please remember don't forget, popcorn, snow flurries, tulip bowls
Comments: 10 Comments
February 7, 2014
Today I am grouchy and tired having not slept well the last couple of nights. I want someone to cross me so I can take my mood out on an unsuspecting stranger. I mean, really, I’d hate to do it to a friend or Gracie and the cats. Maybe a telemarketer will call.
It’s sunny and the sky is blue, but it’s a ruse. The morning is cold. Luckily there is no breeze or wind to make it feel even colder. I have to go out for an appointment so I’m going to add a bit of fun shopping to make the trip palatable. I’ll stop at odd shops, the ones with antiques and little doo-dads. I’ll go up-cape for a change. I’ll bring my camera and my dog.
Everyone is sick of winter. My cousin, living in New Hampshire, said it was about 5 below when she got to work this morning. Compared to her, I live in the tropics. For my sister in Colorado it was 4˚ yesterday though today is supposed to be hot at 40˚. I think it’s the snow causing all these winter woes. It chills the air making it even colder, and without it, we might be able to dupe ourselves into thinking warmer thoughts: I’m lying on the lounge chair on the deck with my face toward the sun. My eyes are closed. The sun is hot so I cool off a bit by taking sips of my drink, the one with the little umbrella. Astrud Gilberto and Brazilian salsa is playing in the background. Okay, I can’t keep doing this.
One look out the window to the snow-covered yard, and I am back in the throes of winter: to the furnace blasting to heat the house, to drinking hot coffee to warm my innards and my cold hands and to wearing flannel pants, a hooded sweatshirt and socks and slippers around the house every day. It’s no wonder I’m grouchy! Even Pollyanna would be having a tough time about now.
Categories: Musings
Tags: below zero, cold, drink with an umbrella, flannels, furnace blowing, grouchy, in the sun, on the deck, ruse, Shopping, sick of winter, sunny day, sweatshirt, tired, tropics, up-Cape, warmer thoughts
Comments: 13 Comments
February 6, 2014
The snow came early yesterday morning starting around four. It covered the trees and the roads and was pretty for a while then the rain came, and the snow wasn’t pretty anymore. Under the trees the snow was pock-marked. On the streets and the walkways snow became slush. My plow guy came, shoveled the snow and pushed the slush to the side then spread Safe for Paws De-icer on the tops of the steps to keep them from freezing overnight. During the snowstorm I went out and filled the feeders. They were popular all afternoon.
The snow is crusty from freezing overnight. My paper had skidded down the driveway so I had to walk through the snow to get it. The top of the snow was slippery. As I stepped, cracks fanned out from my footprints. I was cautious. On my way back up the driveway, with papers in hand, I stepped in my footprints.
The sun is now trying to break through the clouds, but it won’t be a warm sun. It will be a bit of light on an otherwise grey day.
This will be the third day in a row I haven’t left the yard or done much with any purpose. I put away my laundry and did some frantic furniture polishing, but mostly I’ve been idle. I read and even took an afternoon nap. Falling asleep warm and cozy under the down comforter seemed an act of defiance against winter.
I generally accept the weather. It isn’t as if I have any control over what happens. Getting grumpy and cursing it only frustrates me. It’s winter. Snow is inevitable. It will be cold. That’s what winter is: snowy and cold. Every now and then we do get an unexpectedly warm day. I always think of it as Mother Nature fiddling with our heads. She’s probably sitting somewhere laughing and planning the next big snowstorm. That woman has no heart.
Categories: Musings
Tags: cold, cold and snowy, cozy and warm, crusty snow, freezing rain, grey day, Mother Nature, nap, slippery, slush, Snow, winter
Comments: 20 Comments
January 28, 2014
Cold isn’t enough of a descriptor for the weather today. Bone-chilling comes a bit closer but even that seems inadequate. Yesterday was “…Just spring when the world is mud-luscious.” The snow was soft, perfect for snowballs. The streets had reappeared and the icicles were melting from the roof. It was like a day in early March when the first green shoots start appearing and winter begins its swan song. Today, though, is pure winter. The snow is hard and the water of yesterday has frozen making it slippery especially along the sides of the road. I walked gingerly and carefully to the driveway to get my papers. The high today will be 20˚. The only bright spot is we will not be getting any snow. That will fall in the most unlikeliest places like the Virginias and the Carolinas where more than six inches are predicted. Forecasters have called this storm a once in a generation winter storm. I have to think kids will be thrilled with their first ever snow day.
I have errands, but they’ll have to wait until tomorrow because of the dump. It is closed on Tuesdays, and I really need a dump run so I might as well lump all of the errands together for tomorrow. I do fear the dump most of all. It is open ground and like the frozen tundra with the wind blowing and howling and with no place to find shelter. I will even wear my winter coat for the first time this season. I swear I saw a polar bear on the last dump run.
My mother used to keep her heat so high we wore t-shirts around the house when we visited her in winter. She was always cold. I finally understand why. The older we get the less resistant we are to the cold. I always wear a sweatshirt around the house now. I used to wear only a long-sleeve shirt and was plenty warm. That won’t do any more. Socks with my slippers are now a necessity. Nothing is worse than cold feet. I haven’t moved my thermostat any higher to combat the cold. I’ve decided to layer, even in the house.
I got an energy report from the gas company. It seems I burn more gas than my neighbors. That makes perfect sense considering four of the neighboring houses are empty most of the winter and my two closest neighbors heat with oil. I guess I win the prize by default.
Categories: Musings
Tags: cold, dump run, errands, howling wind, layers, mud-luscious, once in a generation winter storm, Snow, socks, sweatshirts, tundra, winter
Comments: 18 Comments
January 24, 2014
A brilliant sunny day with a deep blue sky greeted me this morning, but it is still very cold. The snow, which was soft and fluffy, is now hard and crunchy. When I went to get the papers, the sounds of my footsteps on the snow seemed to echo in the quiet of the early morning. Tomorrow will be in the 30’s, almost summer-like say I with tongue in cheek.
My friends Bill and Peg are coming today for the weekend. We were in the Peace Corps together and were even neighbors my second year. I met Bill and Peg in Philadelphia during staging, the time for finalizing everything before the flight to Africa. We even skipped a few lectures together to do some sightseeing. One of my favorite stories of that time is about Bill. We went to the top of the William Penn Building to see the view of Philadelphia below us. The site is manned by rangers in green uniforms. Bill spoke to one and asked the name of the river to which he was pointing because the name is so difficult to pronounce. Without missing a beat, the ranger looked at him and said,” Del-a-ware.” Peg and I couldn’t stop laughing.
Bill and Peg were to be stationed in Tamale, a hundred miles south of me and the closest town in that direction with volunteers. I knew I’d get to see them often, but it wasn’t to be; instead, they were posted down south in Tafo, closer to Accra, when they found out Peg was pregnant. Peace Corps decided to let them stay anyway as an associate director and his wife were also expecting and weren’t leaving. I visited them as often as I could which wasn’t all that often as they were a distance away. I usually stopped on my way back up north after a visit to Accra. Their house had no running water, and you had to use an outhouse in the yard. On one visit to them I was sitting in the outhouse when I heard a noise below me. I stood up and saw a hand take the bucket and then a face looked up at me and the man said hello or good morning, madame, I don’t exactly remember which being a bit shocked by the circumstances of the greeting. It was the night soil man going about his work. He put the empty bucket back, and I sat down to finish my business.
Before our second year I talked to our principal about asking Bill and Peg to come to Women’s Training College where I taught. The school needed a maths teacher and would get an English teacher in the bargain. The principal, Mrs. Intsiful, agreed and Bill, Peg and Kevin, their son, moved to Bolga. We were neighbors in a duplex.
I have quite a few stories of our adventures, but I’ll save them for the weekend!
Categories: Musings
Tags: blue sky, Bolgatanga, cold, outhouse, Peace Corps staging, sunny, Tafo Ghana, Women's Training College
Comments: 6 Comments
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