Posted tagged ‘cool morning’

“With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.”

August 14, 2017

Gracie wanted out close to seven this morning so out we went. I was surprised at how cool it was. When she wanted out again, it was close to ten. I was surprised at how warm it had gotten. My house, though, still feels cool from the AC last night. I wanted to open doors this morning to all that cool air, but all I could hear from my neighbor’s yard was the beep-beep machinery makes when it goes backwards. Shutting the door helped, but I still had trouble getting back to sleep with all the noise, but I did manage. I’m a good sleeper.

We had game night last night and an early birthday for me as my friend will be out of town for my real birth date. I wore my Happy Birthday tiara and blew out the candles to a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday. To make the night perfect, I won all three games we played. I was the birthday girl and the champion.

When I was a kid and it was close to my birthday, I’d sit on the front steps waiting for the mailman. I was hoping for birthday cards with money tucked inside. Usually it was a dollar, a huge amount in those days when even a quarter went a long way and my fifty cent allowance every week made me rich. One grandmother sent money while the other usually gave gifts. I still have a couple of Bobbsey Twin books with a Happy Birthday message from my grandmother. I was eight.

It was sunny earlier but is now cloudy. The weather says partly sunny today. I figure that’s an optimist’s view like the half full glass.

Today is a quiet day for me, on purpose. I am foregoing a dump run. I’m just not in the mood though I’d be hard-pressed to define a no dump mood. It is just a sense of it. I will go to Agway as I need small cans of Gracie food, the ones she has in the morning. I am also going to buy some plants on sale to fill in empty spots in the front garden. The bird feeders need filling again. The hungry avians emptied them in two days.

That’s all. I got nothing else. Oops, one more thing: tomorrow I am having my other eye done so no Coffee. I’ll see you on Thursday.

“Oreos come in packages. Otherwise known as a gift. Cherish it.”

July 2, 2016

My wish was granted. Last night it was a mighty storm. The thunder started way off with small rumblings then it got closer and louder. The lightning lit up the room. One thunder clap was right over my house. All three animals looked up as if the roof was falling. Mother Nature celebrated the 4th just a bit early, and her display was spectacular.

The air is cool this morning with a slight breeze, but the humidity will return later. I have opened all the windows. This room, my den, is always wonderfully dark and cool in the morning as the sun doesn’t hit it until the afternoon.

My mother always put the shades down all summer. She said it kept the house cool. She also made a pitcher of Zarex most days and left it in the fridge, but she hated it when we opened the fridge door as we generally stood there by the door to check out the fridge. She said we were letting the cold out.

Weekdays in the summer we entertained ourselves. We’d bike ride totally mindless of the heat or we’d spend the day at the park on the field across from the bottom of my street. On those days we’d go home for lunch which was always a sandwich, usually bologna. I don’t even remember what other cold cuts my mother bought. To my sandwich I’d add hot peppers which I had cut in half. Mustard was my condiment of choice; of course, it was always yellow mustard. The bread was always white. I don’t remember any specific dessert, but my guess is it was Oreos, a wonderfully portable dessert. I still love my Oreos, but once I went crazy and bought peanut butter Oreos. They were pretty good though really what’s not to like about peanut butter, but I’m a traditionalist prone to buy the original though double-stuffed is always tempting.

“The bicycle is a curious vehicle. Its passenger is its engine.”

May 21, 2015

Earlier, when I let Gracie out, I followed her to the deck. The air smelled sweet the way it does on a chilly spring morning. The sun was shining but soon went behind a cloud. The weatherman said maybe rain on Cape Cod today.

When I looked out the upstairs bathroom window, I noticed something red high up on a pine tree. I went outside to investigate. It appears to be a plastic bag, part of the nest of what I think is a grey squirrel. The greys don’t bother me so I don’t mind identifying them. The nest had leaves on the outside, and I could see branches sticking up. Last summer Gracie caught a baby grey which I saved, and the summer before that I watched a mother grey lie down on branches to keep her baby from feeding. I figured it was time to leave the nest day. I’m thinking that same grey might just be back for another round of motherhood.

I woke up early, early for me that is, at 7:30. I had coffee, read the papers, made my bed, got dressed and then did an errand. That’s it for me for the day. I’m thinking I’ve accomplished a lot.

When I was kid, my mother woke us for breakfast then afterwards hustled us to get dressed for school. I think school started around 8. We always left in plenty of time. There were no busses in those days so everybody walked no matter how far away they lived. Our walk wasn’t too long. It took maybe 15 or 20 minutes. One of my friends walked from the other side of town. It was probably a mile or even two. Few cars delivered kids. It was the 50’s and most were one-car families, cars which our dads drove to work. I never thought about the walk even on rainy or freezing cold days. I didn’t ever complained. That was just the way it was.

I did love the springtime when my mother would let me ride my bike to school. I’d park it in the wooden bike rack, and even though my bike wasn’t locked, it was always there at the end of the day. The bikes back then weren’t fancy. They had big tires and back pedal breaks. Mine had a basket off and a silver bell on the handlebars. It had been a Christmas present when I was around nine or ten. It was the best present I ever got.

“I will be the gladdest thing under the sun! I will touch a hundred flowers and not pick one.”

May 18, 2015

The morning is a bit chilly, quite different from yesterday when we sat on the deck until 8 o’clock. It was still warm enough even when the sun was down. The pine pollen has turned my car from red to yellow-green. Here in the house I have two opened windows and the pollen has covered furniture and even the floors, but I don’t care. I like the cool air.

The cape has more scrub pine than any other trees. They are ugly trees with scraggy branches. Their bark looks old, wrinkly. My back and front yards have several pine trees. They don’t weather well. Every year the winter takes down a few more branches, and the last couple of years my landscaper has cut down a couple of tall, dead pine trees. When a pine tree dies, no needles remain to soften the look. It resembles the Halloween silhouette of a black tree with grabbing branches.

I like my pine trees despite their ugliness. They shade the yard. They give me a sense of privacy on the deck. At night, when the dog’s lights are triggered, they are tall, thin shadows across the yard. They are quintessentially Cape Cod. I guess the pollen is a small price to pay.

The cape fields are filled with wild flowers and berry-bearing trees. Closer to the water are the beach plum trees. In my younger, forage from the sea and land days, I used to pick beach plums to make jelly. The trees are not easy to find and every forager protects secret spots. Wild blueberry bushes give fruit to eat out of hand. I find not so many make it to my bucket. Along the sides of the road are flowers growing wild, spreading and multiplying themselves. One of my favorites is the thistle. I want to stop and dig a few for my garden, but I haven’t had the nerve.

In my front yard are three wild rose bushes. They flower once a year with small white flowers. The trees grow haphazardly and I’ve often caught myself on the thorny bushes. It seems the more you cut and trim the more they grow. Wild rose bushes are everywhere, and when they are in bloom, it always seems as if the cape is covered in white, delicate flowers.

This is an empty dance card week. I have laundry to do, Peapod to order and flowers and herbs to plant. Nothing else is planned except, of course, Gracie and I will have a dump run.

“Do you realize if it weren’t for Edison we’d be watching TV by candlelight? “

September 14, 2014

The morning is again chilly. It is almost officially the fall so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. All the doors and windows are closed so I’m comfortable here on the couch even with bare feet. The red spawn was at the feeder this morning, but it ran away as soon as I got on the deck. The spawn knew the hose was next.

It was raining last night when I went to bed. It wasn’t a heavy rain but was enough for Gracie to get her business done quickly. She didn’t even go far enough into the yard to trip the sensor lights. She was back in the house almost immediately. I totally understand.

When I was a kid, TV was still bit of magic. I never questioned how Superman flew. I just knew he did, and he always flew to the same music. Glasses were the ultimate disguise. I knew Perry Mason would never lose. That didn’t bother me at all.  Perry Mason was the hero. Poor Hamilton Burger was just hapless. Lieutenant Tragg always wore a fedora out side. I do remember Perry losing one, but he exonerated his client just as she was going to the electric chamber. Of course he did. I didn’t watch all the westerns. I did watch Roy and Dale, the Lone Ranger and Hopalong Cassidy. The whole family watched the Wild, Wild West. I remember Dobie Gillis, Sergeant Bilko and Joe Friday. We watched all the Quinn Martin productions. I remember the voice announcing at the beginning of each show,”A Quinn Martin Production.” The Invaders were one of my favorite shows. David Vincent went all over the country looking for people with weird, stuck out little fingers. By the end of each show, he had convinced another person to believe that aliens on Earth existed, that they were dangerous, and that he needed their help. The Fugitive was another QM production. Dr. Kimball is chased all over the country by Lieutenant Gerard. Kimball is really a good guy trying to find the real killer of his wife. He is hunting the one-armed man. Like David Vincent, Dr. Kimball was usually able to convince someone that he was innocent, and they usually help him getaway just before Gerard shows up. We all wanted him to find the one-armed man.

On Star Trek and Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea, the crew leaned to the left or the right when their ships were fired upon. The camera moved with them. That was an old time special effect. I never made fun of it, never even questioned it, though I do chuckle a bit now.

“And falling’s just another way to fly.”

June 24, 2014

I have come outside to the deck hoping the malaise which has descended will disappear in the glory of the morning. I have to admit that first sentence does make me chuckle. I sound like a Victorian woman swooning on the chaise holding a handkerchief infused with lavender. Even Gracie too seems not herself. She followed me to the deck then went back inside to her crate. She doesn’t usually ever leave me.

Yesterday I fell twice. Nothing serious, a few scrapes. The first was due to inattention. I was talking and walking, luckily I hadn’t added gum to the mix, when I tripped over one of those parking blocks. My elbow and knee got it that time. The second was going up the deck stairs. My flip-flop turned and I tripped on it. I was two steps from the top, which almost sounds like a song title. Anyway, I went down on the deck and this time it was my hand and elbow. Today my knee and shoulder hurt. I have no idea why the shoulder hurts.

It was a chilly night. I don’t think my feet ever got warm. I burrowed as did Gracie and Fern. I should have gotten up and gone downstairs for the afghan, but I didn’t want to leave the bed and my luck during the day with stairs hadn’t been all that good so I chose chilly to wounded and bleeding.

Yesterday was a productive day so today won’t be though I might change my bed and maybe do some laundry. I’m not leaving the house. Errands are for tomorrow.

When she was little, my youngest sister always had the grossest big toes. She stubbed them too many times to count. My mother would put on band-aids but they never lasted. Toes and band aids don’t seem to do well together. Sneakers would have solved the problem but she never wore them. I remember white strapped sandals with open toes, gross open toes.

My other sister broke her leg by getting it caught in the spokes of her tricycle which went down the hill leg and all. She also almost lost her finger when one of those fold-up stools folded on her hand.

Given their childhood injuries, you’d think their adulthoods would be rife with broken bones, but nope, I’m the one who falls, who breaks a few bones or scrapes protruding parts of my body. I guess I should have been more prone to injury as a kid so I could have skipped it as an adult. Falling is now run of the mill for me.

“Quiet is the new loud”

November 9, 2013

A bright sunny day is always welcomed, even when it’s a bit chilly, as is today’s wonderfully beautiful blue sky. My feeders are going to need filling in a bit as the birds are many this morning. I think they too are drawn out by the sun. The western part of the state got less than an inch of snow yesterday, but it is the first snow of the season.

Gracie got a chew treat from me this morning and went outside to bury it. I watched her dig a small hole then use her nose to push the leaves over her treat to hide it. Her face, when she came in, was all sandy and Gracie wasn’t happy having it washed. Later she’ll dig it up and bring in inside. The treat will be covered in dirt and look disgusting.

I have nothing on my dance card today. I finished a book yesterday and have another to start. I also have recipes cut from magazines and newspapers which need a bit of culling. I always think I’ll make that delicious looking dish or dessert so I save it. When I’m having company or want to make something special, I pull out the recipes and go through them. I always think I need to sort them and then start piles. After a while, I get tired of it and put the piles back with the rest of the recipes and then put them all back into the basket which stores them. Soon the basket will be too small.

One of the differences this time of year brings is the quiet on a Saturday morning. In the summer I can hear lawn mowers, people shouting, kids playing and those annoying leaf blowers. This morning I first heard nothing then I heard the blast of hot air from the furnace. Fall gets us ready for the quiet of winter.