Posted tagged ‘cold’
March 10, 2016
My mood and the day are too similar to ignore. It rained earlier. The ground is still wet. The sky is a light grey. My mood is just a bit darker. I woke up very late and did not want to get out of bed. Gracie and Fern adjusted their respective positions on the bed, and we all went back to sleep. I had to force myself to get up. Two cups of coffee are just not enough today.
My house is clean. Roseana and Lee came yesterday. Dump day is tomorrow. I checked and the bird feeders still have seeds though I did have to replace the suet in both of those feeders. The clothes are all washed. There are no dirty dishes. I got books at the library yesterday. I finished the newspaper’s crossword puzzle. As all of this sounds like paradise, why the mood?
My voice is raspy. I have a headache. I am exhausted (spell check came up with a better word: exhumed) for no reason. All I can think of is maybe the cold I avoided knows spring is upon us and wants to get me before winter takes its final bow. This makes me unhappy. It also makes me grumpy.
I figure to loll in bed, take whatever medication I have and read the day away. That actually sounds inviting. The only thing missing is the maid and a bell by my bed to summon her.
This will last a day or two as I’m not coughing or blowing my nose. On the measurement of colds, something I just made up, I’m about a 3 or a 4 out of 10. If I were a little kid, my mother would have sent me to school: two symptoms do not a cold make.
The worst part of a kid’s cold is a runny nose. I hated having a runny nose. My mother used to stuff my pockets with Kleenex. That left a dilemma. Where do I put the used Kleenex? I couldn’t keep getting up from my desk to put them in the trash so I’d stash them in my school bag or the pocket of my sweater if I happened to be wearing one. Nothing is worse than a used Kleenex.
My mother usually had a Kleenex or two in her handbag. The problems were the Kleenex was a crumbled mess, often had lipstick on it and brown bits of tobacco from my mother’s cigarette package clung to it. I had no choice but to use that Kleenex. It was always a mystery to me why my mother didn’t want it back. To me, it sort of fit right into her bag.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bird seed, clean clothes, clean house, cloudy, coffee, cold, grumpy, Kleenex, libstick, light grey sky, loll in bed, Paradise, rain, raspy voice, read, sleeping in, suet feeders, tired, tobacco, unhappy
Comments: 19 Comments
March 5, 2016
I want to yell out my window, “I’m mad as hell, and I won’t take it anymore,” but I’d probably freeze myself and the house in the process. March winds blow cold. The sun is a background ornament, bright but useless. Warm weather is supposed to be arriving next week. I hope so as I truly need one deck day to rid myself of winter malaise.
When I was a kid, I never minded winter weather except when it rained. I hated winter rain. I swear my wet clothes used to freeze on the walk home. My jacket stiffened from the ice. My wool mittens got wet and useless. My fingers were red from the cold. Water bubbled from my shoes when I walked. My hair hung down on my face and sometimes dripped onto my neck and down the back of my jacket. Winter rain is relentless.
Summer rain was a gift. It cooled a hot day. Steam would rise from the sidewalks. We’d stay outside and get soaked knowing when the sun reappeared, it would dry our clothes. I’d splash puddles and watch the water fan. We floated paper boats down the rivers streaming in the gutters next to the sidewalks. I’d ride my bike and head for every puddle. I remember taking my feet off the pedals and letting my bike glide through the water. I don’t remember my mother dragging us in when there was thunder and lightning, but I guess she must have. Either that or we were just plain lucky.
Today is chore day. My laundry bag is spilling over. The clean sheets have sat on the chest at the foot of my bed for three days. It’s about time I got to them. The plants need watering. The kitchen needs to be swept. I know as I do one chore two more will pop up. Just now I noticed the wire connecting the computer to electricity was dirty at the top, close to the computer. I stopped writing, went to the kitchen, got a Clorox sheet and cleaned the wire. It is going to be one of those days. I blame it all on winter. Ennui is the perfect description for my mood today.
Categories: Musings
Tags: chores day, cold, ennui, frozen clothes, gutter water, I'm mad as hell, and I won't take it anymore, paper boats, puddles, smoking sidewalks, splashing, summer rain, useless sun, washing clothes, winter rain
Comments: 14 Comments
March 4, 2016
The snow is already covering the tops of branches. The roads are wet, and I think they’ll probably freeze when the temperature goes down this afternoon. Gracie and I finished four errands, and I couldn’t wait to get home. It’s cold.
The dump was fairly empty. Smarter people than I stayed home cozy and warm. I was the only one in the hardware store which does make sense. I guess whatever you need in a hardware store isn’t always immediate during a snow storm. The cat food stop was a necessity. Agway didn’t have many people either. My last stop was to buy lunch. I bought chicken noodle soup, the ultimate comfort food. Rita, the magician of soups, uses egg noodles, huge cuts of carrots and lots of chicken. I even bought two.
On days like today my mother often packed soup for our lunches. She’d fill the thermos bottles and make sure we had plenty of Saltines. Most times the soup was either tomato or chicken noodle. I liked eating from my thermos. I’d slowly and carefully pour the soup into the cover trying not to splash then I’d put the stopper back to keep the rest of the soup hot. I’d crumple the crackers into the soup. They sucked up all the liquid but that’s how I liked it. My mother also packed desserts, usually cookies. I was never big on fruit for lunchbox dessert. I always thought fruit was a snack. Dessert needed sugar and maybe chocolate.
We’ll only get a couple of inches of wet snow. I keep looking out the window watching it fall. The flakes change direction. Now they are from the north. A while back they seemed to come straight down. Because there is no wind, the flakes aren’t frantic. They fall slowly, individually.
All the bird feeders are filled, and I threw some on the ground under the deck. There were a few goldfinches still clad in winter drab dining al fresco this morning.
I feel a nap coming on!
Categories: Musings
Tags: chicken noodle soup, Chocolate, cold, comfort foods, crackers, dessert, dump, errands, fruit, hardware store, Snow, soup, thermos bottles, tomato soup.
Comments: 25 Comments
February 26, 2016
Gracie snores, and last night she snored so loudly she kept waking me up. My bedtime was late enough without being disturbed by her multiple snores and an occasional snort. I’m tired and it is only 11 o’clock. Gracie, of course, is having a morning nap. The poor baby must be tired.
Cold day today, it is in the high 30’s, but the sun is shining so I’m not going to complain. When I went to get the papers, I heard birds singing to greet the morning. It sounded like spring to me.
I have random memories which loop through my mind. Some I see only once while others recur. Some of my memories of growing up are faded and worn while others are so bright they could have happened yesterday. My grey jacket reappears out of one my memory drawer every spring. It was my favorite jacket because I started wearing it only when the weather got warmer. It had no lining. It did have pockets on each side, and it had a zipper. My brightest memory is wearing that jacket and skipping on the sidewalk on my way to school.
I still remember biology and dissecting a frog. My memory drawer has a picture of the frog lying on its back on a silver lab tray. It looks washed out, too long preserved. My lab partner wanted nothing to do with that frog and the scalpel. It was left to me. She took all the notes. That was our deal. Making the first cut took me a while. I had to forego the urge to gag. Dead frogs didn’t bother me, but their insides were better left inside.
My first Ghana memory is of the morning after our arrival. My room was on the second floor of a school dorm. I remember walking outside, standing at the rail and looking at what was spread out below me. I saw greenery everywhere. I could see rusty tins roofs. I remember the awe. I was in Africa.
My memory drawers overflow. Some I can’t even open; others I can’t shut. The sad memories have their own places. Sometimes they come unbidden. They are not always welcome.
Categories: Musings
Tags: biology, cold, dissecting a frog, Ghana, greenery, memory drawers, random memories, sad memories, singing birds, Snoring, spring jacket, sunny day, tin roofs
Comments: 9 Comments
February 23, 2016
My sunny disposition has deserted me. It is an ugly, cold, damp, grey day. Gracie woke me up early when she barked at some outside noises. The house was still cold, and I was still tired, but I dragged myself out of bed and went downstairs and opened the door to check. If I had been a throwaway character in a horror movie, the slasher would have been outside the door just waiting for me. If I were watching the movie, I’ll think how stupid not to check before opening the door and I’d think the character got what she deserved. Luckily no one was there, but my newspapers were on the front step so someone had been there. It must have been my neighbor. I doubt the slasher would have been so thoughtful.
My dance card is total empty so I am going to hang around the house all day. I doubt I’ll even get dressed. I’ll probably nap as it’s the sort of day which invites getting warm and cozy in bed under the covers. I’ll bring my book.
March is when I am tired of winter. The first day of spring is in March. We turn our clocks ahead the second Sunday in March. Easter is at the end of March. Spring training is over. It’s time to put away the shovels and the heavy coats. I want to see the bright yellow of the forsythias. I want to sit on the deck and be warmed by the sun. I wish the coming of March was the signal that winter has finally packed its bags and moved south, but Mother Nature guarantees nothing.
I thumbed through a couple of travel magazines and salivated over the pictures. It was like I was a kid again reading my geography book and dreaming. My Barrett Syndrome has surfaced. I hope I can hang on until the trip back to Ghana in the fall.
Categories: Musings
Tags: cold, damp, grey, grouchy, hang around the house, horror movie, March, nap, slasher, throwaway character, tired of winter
Comments: 10 Comments
February 20, 2016
Gracie and I did some sightseeing yesterday. It was mostly to get us out of the house. We didn’t see much. I had brought my camera but didn’t use it. We made a few stops. One was at a candy store where I bought salt water taffy and a caramel, a soft outer layer caramel with a white center much like marshmallow but tastier. I then went to buy the bread I had forgotten on my last trip. Before I went into the store, I hid the candy inside a bag inside another bag. Gracie hadn’t ever touched stuff in my car, but I was being cautious. When I came out of the store, I opened the passenger side so I could put my groceries there. I noticed ripped pieces of paper all over the front seat and the visor was down. The paper came from the candy bag. I checked and found out Gracie had helped herself to a caramel. She must have eaten the paper as well. Nothing else was touched. I think the visor was her attempt to hide her activities. We then had a conversation, “Gracie, what did you do?” No answer. “Gracie, did you eat the candy?” No answer. She didn’t even look guilty let alone contrite. I was just glad it wasn’t chocolate.
The day is cold, windy and grey, uninviting in every way.
I never really concerned myself with the weather when I was a kid. I didn’t even have colorful, descriptive words. I went with sunny or cloudy, hot or cold and rainy or snowy. Every day fit one of those descriptions, meager as they are. I actually used nice to describe a warm spring day. I hate the word nice in the same way I hate good and bad. They say nothing: nice day, good movie, bad day and nice dress or shoes. I described food as good or bad tasting. My father described some people as good eggs. I knew what he meant, but I had no idea how he got there.
People don’t want a long winded description of a movie or a TV show. My sister used to say you didn’t have to watch the show, just ask Kat. Sometimes that was a compliment and sometimes it wasn’t. In my mind I usually put it on the compliment side of the ledger. Using DVR (or taping as some of my friends still call it) and On Demand have made me obsolete. I was great for the highlights.
Categories: Musings
Tags: caramels, cold, descriptive adjectives, eaten candy, good egg, good or bad, grey, hot or cold, shredded paper, sneaking candy, stealing food, visor down, weather, windy
Comments: 8 Comments
January 18, 2016
Finally we have sun, but we also have a dusting of snow and a cold day in the high 20’s. My heat has been blasting all morning so the house is cozy and warm. Sadly, I have no choice but to bite the bullet and go out later. It looks as if I’ll be scraping the windshield. I can’t even remember the last time I had to do that.
Today is Martin Luther King day. I looked through my archives and decided to repost last year’s Coffee. It says everything needing to be said.
Martin Luther King Jr. has now been dead longer than he lived. But what an extraordinary life it was.
At 33, he was pressing the case of civil rights with President John Kennedy. At 34, he galvanized the nation with his “I Have a Dream” speech. At 35, he won the Nobel Peace Prize. At 39, he was assassinated, but he left a legacy of hope and inspiration that continues today.” from the Seattle Times
I was in high school when I began to notice the world around me in a different way. All of a sudden it was far bigger than my small town. Back then I didn’t know a single Black person. There were none where I grew up, but a parish priest began to open our eyes and through him we met Black teenagers from Boston. Through them I became aware of social inequities, of Jim Crow and of the struggles of Blacks to register to vote. My friends and I were too young to go South, to march or register voters, but we were more than willing to do small tasks for even they had impact. We worked with snick, SNCC, going door to door to raise money. We attended NAACP meetings and passed out pamphlets. We did what we could.
Without realizing it, I had developed a social conscience which would forever be part of my life. It helped define what the 60’s meant to me. During college, I picketed and marched for a variety of causes I had come to believe in. I joined the Peace Corps, my recognition that we all have a responsibility to make this world a better place. I still feel the same way.
Categories: Musings
Tags: cold, MLK Day, scrape the windshield, Snow
Comments: 8 Comments
December 20, 2015
Winter arrived yesterday. It was 35˚ last night, and I had to wear a jacket for the first time as the wind made it feel even colder. Today is also cold but not as cold as it was, but winter won’t staying long. The weird weather we’ve been having will be back by Christmas. It could reach 60˚ here.
The play was great fun. Christmas on the Air was about a radio station at Christmas in 1949. There was a bit of drama, a few laughs and some wonderful Christmas carols. Dinner afterwards, at Felicia’s, was delicious. We started with shrimp and then both had fettuccine Alfredo and I ordered a side of sausage. Frank Sinatra played in the background just as he should. The place was crowded, no empty tables. The festivities have begun.
My neighbor and his three boys delivered pumpkin bread this morning. They also have a baby girl born last July, but Tiffany found time to make bread for all the neighbors.
I find myself filled with feelings of nostalgia this year. Riding through the square of my old home town brought back a flood of memories. The store fronts mostly look the same, but the stores are different. I called out their names as I went by. Hank’s Bakery is now an extension of the restaurant next door to it. I don’t remember the name of the store the restaurant replaced as I never shopped there. It had fruits, vegetables and cold cuts. The Middlesex Drug is now a butcher shop. My sister said it is expensive. The Children’s Cornet is now an Indian restaurant. My sister and I ate them and it was good except for the green sauce which burned my mouth.
The square is all lit for Christmas. Each tree has white lights and the town green, a new spot to me, has a beautiful lit tree of colored bulbs and an ice skating rink not yet opened. The fire station had Santa on the old police station roof. He used to be on the siren tower.
So much in my old home town has changed but so much somehow stays the same.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Christmas on the Air, cold, Felicias, Fettuccine Alfredo, lights, my old home town, nostalgia, sausage, skating rink, windy, winter
Comments: 20 Comments
December 19, 2015
Today is as close to winter as we’ve gotten. I felt the cold when I went out front to get the papers. The wind is strong enough to blow the chimes in my backyard. It is jacket weather.
Every year my mother took my sister and me to a play at Christmas then out to dinner. One year it was Death of a Salesman with Brian Dennehy who had won a Tony for the role. We joked with my mother afterwards about such an uplifting Christmas play. I have kept the tradition. Today my sister and I have a play, Christmas on the Air, and a dinner reservation afterwards. We’ll exchange gifts but save them to open at Christmas. I made her favorite fudge last night. She doesn’t have to wait until Christmas to munch on that.
Yesterday would have been the last school day before Christmas. That was always cause for excitement, but Christmas Eve, five long days away, was the magical day for us. I never thought I’d survive the wait. Every day dragged on and on. I’d go outside to play if the weather was good. I’d ride my bike or take the sled if we had snow. I’d watch for the mailman who came twice a day at Christmas bringing all those cards. My mother would let me open a couple, and if I were really lucky, they’d be a card for me usually from my aunt.
At night I’d sit and look at the tree. All the lights and ornaments were mesmerizing. I’d watch whatever Christmas programs were on TV. On weekdays I’d watch Santa in his workshop. He was also in countdown mode until his big night.
My mother played her Christmas albums on the hifi when she’d cook or work around the house. My favorites were the albums with lots of singers. We had Guy Lombardo, Andy Williams and Bing, the album where he is wearing a Santa cap. We also had albums from Grants who put out a new one every year and one from Goodyear. I have no idea the history of the last one.
Okay, I’m starting the countdown: five days until Christmas Eve.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Brian Dennehy, Christmas Eve, Christmas on the Air, cold, Death of a Salesman, fudge, jacket weather, long wait, play and a dinner, windy
Comments: 22 Comments
November 15, 2015
Ditto on yesterday morning’s weather, but it’s a bit colder than it was. TV was so bad last night I don’t even remember what I watched. Mostly it was just background noise so I managed to go through and toss away several catalogues and magazines. I even found a couple of gifts for people and a couple of recipes for me.
Yesterday my sister and I were talking and all of a sudden my mother entered the conversation, sort of. I mentioned someone I knew had a tough row to hoe. My mother used to say that, and it sort of just flew unbidden out of my mouth as I haven’t heard it in years. I didn’t understand it when I was really little and later I couldn’t figure out how a farm metaphor became part of my mother’s lexicon. Both my parents had favorite sayings. My dad called someone a good egg, and that was a high compliment indeed. I always understood it, but in Ghana I found out exactly what it meant. When aunties (women sellers) came to my house with eggs to sell, I bought only those eggs which fell to the bottom of my bucket of water. They were the good eggs. Dressed to the nines always threw me, but I finally figured out from the conversation what my mother meant. I did wonder why dressed to the nines, not the tens or the fives. I didn’t find what that one meant until not that long ago. It seems the very best suits used a full nine yards of fabric. The kiss of death was one of my mother’s. I thought it meant Judas at the Last Supper, but the Mafia co-opted it to mean giving a kiss to someone marked for death prior to his execution.
I suspect there are many expressions my grandparents used which may still be around though their meanings have probably disappeared. Some of ours will have the same fate. I doubt my grandnephew will know why we tell him to roll down the window or hang up the phone. I wonder if he knows clockwise. His watch has no hands.
Right now I’m going to turn on the TV.
Categories: Musings
Tags: clockwise, cloudy, cold, dressed to the nines, good egg, kiss of death, lexicon, tough row to hoe
Comments: 16 Comments
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