Posted tagged ‘dance card’

“If it can’t be reduced, reused, repaired, rebuilt, refurbished, refinished, resold, recycled, or composted, then it should be restricted, designed or removed from production.”

September 10, 2018

Oh no, it’s cloudy. It’s so dark you need the light to read. Rain is predicted. Every now and then the wind blows so strongly even the big branches are tossed.

The windows are closed. The back door is open for Henry, and I can feel a chill when the wind blows through it.

My dance card has been empty for a while. I have a meeting tomorrow at the library but that’s it for the week. I am still hoping for another movie night. The Lady in White, not to be confused with the Collins’ novel The Woman in White, will be the last movie. It’s a good one.

I have a list of projects, a list which has been around a while. I want to catalog the Christmas gifts I’ve bought, organize the cabinet under the sink upstairs, clean the tile grout in the kitchen and go through the big cabinet to check dates on the jars and cans. I suspect after reading the list you can totally understand why it has been around so long.

I don’t collect shoes, but I do seem to have a large number of them. The reason for the large number is partly because I don’t throw any away until they are beyond repair. I used to have several pairs of heels, short heels, which I donated to the Salvation Army when I retired. Most of my shoes are built for comfort. My favorites for winter are the wool clogs which I have in four different colors. In summer, it’s always sandals. I have a new pair of red sneakers, the first shoes I’ve bought in years. I love the bright red.

In Ghana, nothing gets thrown away. It all gets repurposed. My sandals were resoled with pieces of tire. My rice from the market was wrapped in the Sunday New York Times, my meat in banana leaves. Old bottles held palm or groundnut oil. Old cans were good for storing stuff and for scooping water. Paper helped start cooking fires. I learned so much in Ghana about the country, its wonderful people and about myself. Peace Corps volunteers always say we get more than we give. Even learning to repurpose was part of the getting.

“How did it get so late so soon?”

November 6, 2017

By now you’re probably wondering what happened to me. Well, it is nothing catastrophic. First, I made up for my lack of sleep the other night by sleeping this morning until 11:30. I decided to stick to my usual routine and read the papers. After I’d read one, my irrigation guy came and wanted to shut down the system as well as my outside shower. I turned on lights and opened doors then got back to my second paper and another cup of coffee. It was nearing two when I finished. I turned my computer on, checked my mail then tried to open WordPress. It wouldn’t open. I shut down Safari but that did nothing. I opened Chrome but still couldn’t get WordPress to load. I tried sneaking into WordPress when viewing another blog, but I couldn’t get any blogs to load. My cheeks hurt from grinding my teeth so I turned off my computer and turned on the television. TCM is having a festival of Falcon movies. I am happy.

When I went to get the papers, I was surprised by how warm the day is. It’s in the mid-60’s, more like late September than November. It was sunny then but now it’s getting dark and cloudy. Rain is forecast for later this afternoon.

When I was watching The Falcon and The Coeds, I recognized a scene from The Lone Ranger. Tom Conway, the Falcon, was riding a horse in the hills trying to catch whoever shot at him. He rode up hill between rock formations. Right away I recognized it as a scene from the Lone Ranger where Silver rears, and we hear the narrator say High Ho Silver Away. I always thought the opening of The Lone Ranger was one of the best. There he is riding Silver at top speed and shooting as he rides all to the March of the Swiss Soldiers, the finale of Gioachino Rossini’s Willian Tell’s Overture which I always thought was just The Lone Ranger’s introduction.

This is going to be a slow week. The only entry on my dance card is dinner with friends on Wednesday. I haven’t any errands though I expect we’ll do a dump run toward the end of the week. My social life seems to be winterizing early.

“Remember, remember always, that all of us, and you and I especially, are descended from immigrants and revolutionists.”

November 2, 2017

The days have been getting cooler, not cold yet, just cooler. The nights, though, are chilly, cold enough for an afghan. The other night my heat went on even though it is set to 65˚.  Soon, the afghan will not be enough to keep me warm.

I was out yesterday for one chore and two stops for shopping. At the first stop, I bought a Christmas present for a friend. The next one was the Italian store where I bought mortadella, fresh bread, pasta and sauce. When I got home, I was in a shopping mood and bought a few more Christmas presents on line. One bed in the guest room is filled with gifts so I have to start writing them down to see what I have and what I need. After all, it’s November all ready.

Gracie is not doing well. Her back legs are much worse. I am scared for her and for me. I hope there is something we can do as she is otherwise fine. She eats, demands treats and gives kisses. We have an appointment at the vet’s tomorrow.

I can’t watch the news anymore. The anxiety of what might be next has me watching Netflix and YouTube. This morning I’m watching Space Probe Taurus from 1965. It is awful. There they are, a crew of three men and one woman, in a space ship with several rooms and lots of space. The control room is about the size of my downstairs. So far two of the men have hit on the woman scientist who was expected to prepare dinner, well sort of dinner. Pills substituted for food. One scientist had lobster Newburg, another had fillet mignon with mashed potatoes and gravy. Right now their ship is stranded underwater on an alien planet and is surrounded by creatures the woman declared were ugly and frightening. They actually look like crabs. The crew is trying to free the ship from the water. One guy is going out in scuba gear. He is being followed by a humanoid looking creature and has no idea of the danger. I’m sitting on the edge of my seat!

My dance card is pretty empty for the next few weeks. Sundays are the only days with any entries, game nights. Last Sunday we decorated Day of the Dead sugar cookie skulls and then managed to play one of our games. The skulls were our best artistic endeavors to date. It seemed a shame to eat them, but I did.

I love my life even when I have an empty dance card.

“To find perfectly ripe fruit, catch it.”

September 2, 2017

Last night I needed an afghan, and this morning is chilly again, but hot weather is coming back next week. Rain is due late tonight into tomorrow, but Sunday will be lovely. Monday will be traveling home day for the tourists. I’ll be happy to wave goodbye and have the roads back, especially on rainy days.

I have a thoroughly empty dance card this weekend. I toyed with inviting friends for dinner and a movie but decided just to hang around and do whatever. I have to go to the dump sometime this weekend because of the full trash bag sitting on the kitchen floor. I dare not put it outside on the deck. Critters attacked a bag the last time I put one out, and it was gross cleaning up all that garbage and trash, especially the coffee grounds.

When I was a kid, I used to spit out the apple skin. My mother would sometimes peel it for me, but not all the time so I’d spit. Oranges needed to be cold. Bananas couldn’t have black spots or be green. Peaches had fur so I never ate peaches. I liked pears even with the skin. I ate strawberries but only in strawberry shortcake. I liked the biscuits my mother made for the shortcake, and I loved the whipped cream. Lemons were only good for lemonade, but my mother preferred a short cut, frozen lemonade. At Thanksgiving we had date-nut bread and tangerines. My mother kept boxes of raisins as a snack for us, but I preferred cookies for snacks. Coconuts and pineapples seemed exotic for me though I probably didn’t know that word back then, but I do remember thinking they belonged on a tropical island, someplace like Hawaii. There were other fruits available but we didn’t eat them.

Every day in Ghana, I had a fruit salad of sorts for lunch. It had cut up pineapple, oranges, bananas and sometimes mangoes. That was the perfect lunch for the heat of the day. The fruits came from Southern Ghana. They didn’t grow where I lived, in the savannah grass land, only the pawpaw did. I could buy whole coconuts but I never did. From small girls who carried a display box of sorts on their heads I bought toasted coconuts balls, brown and sweet. I could buy oranges from aunties selling them along side the road. They would cut off the top and peel a bit around the cut with a single edge razor blade so I could get at the juice. Oranges didn’t have to be cold any more.

“we can watch x-files together while we browse the internet for info on area 51?”

August 27, 2017

I’m not sure the adjectives running through my head are quite descriptive enough to tell you about the morning, but I’ll give it my best shot, the old college try. (Every now and then I do like to pepper my musing with a few idioms.) Today is a delight filled with sunshine, blue skies, cool temperatures and no humidity. It is a quiet day, almost a throwback Sunday from the 50’s when church and Sunday family dinners were the highlights of the day.

I have a couple of errands. I need bird seed and the two things I mentioned yesterday: hot dogs and toilet paper. I also need to plant the flowers I bought the other day and any other perennials I might find today. Those are the only items on my lists, and my dance card is totally empty for the rest of the week. The plays are done, my friends are traveling and my larder is filled. I do have some laundry, as usual, but I haven’t yet run out of underwear. I was thinking a Mad Hatter move and ordering some new ones so I don’t have to do wash quite yet, but even I think that’s might be a bit extreme and massively lazy.

I heard acorns hitting the deck again yesterday. The spawns are at it again. I don’t go barefoot out there anymore, and poor Gracie yelped when she stepped on an acorn. The spawns seeking vengeance against me. I swear I heard cheering when I first stepped on an acorn remnant.

Close Encounters of the Third Kind is celebrating its 40th anniversary. I’m watching it now which I expect explains my delay in posting. I can’t take my eyes off the screen when the UFO’s are on it. They are amazing with their colored lights, just like Barry said when he called them ice cream and toys. I smiled the whole time. It is still a wonder of a movie.

I’m in the camp of those who believe there is intelligent life elsewhere, not just on Earth, though I admit I sometimes wonder about Earth. It seems a bit of a conceit to think we are it.

“All creatures must learn to coexist. That’s why the brown bear and the field mouse can share their lives in harmony. Or course, they can’t mate or the mice would explode.”

June 26, 2017

When I woke this morning, I had to take a minute to figure out what day it was. Yesterday’s newspaper was what came to mind so today, small paper day, is Monday.

Though the morning has been leisurely, my dance card for today has things to do and places to go. The deck needs attention, its plants need watering and the rail lights have to be replaced. I also have an outside plant to pot. Inside the house is a litter box needing changing and houseplants dying for water. The places to go include the dump and two different vets to pick up refills for Gracie’s meds. I have those listed for afternoon. Some place on that list, I need to sandwich in some nap time.

The day is sunny and is already 75˚, but there is no humidity and a slight breeze makes the air feel cooler. I’ll be happy to clean my deck later so I can get out there and enjoy the fresh air, the birds and the breeze.

We are all old here, Gracie, Maddie and I. Maddie, who is 17, mostly sleeps during the day alternating between my bed and the den chair. She has knotted fur on her stomach. I try to cut it, and she whacks me or pretends to bite me as a warning. Maddie, like most cats, roams at night. Sometimes she sits on the couch arm and purrs in my face. Last night she licked my arm a couple of times. I pat her then fall right to sleep. Maddie doesn’t always use the litter box, but she does use the puppy pads. Gracie, at nearly 12, has morning and afternoon naps. I take her into the backyard several times a day where she does her business and then sometimes just wanders the yard. Rabbits and squirrels still get her attention though she doesn’t chase them anymore.  I, at nearly 70, take a nap in the afternoon some days. On the days I have motivation and energy, I’ll clean or do laundry. I don’t go out much during the day, and that’s fine with me.

I know there is another mouse in the kitchen. I found fresh poop. So far there has been 1 dead mouse on the floor and two live ones in the trap. The two live ones are since the exterminator came. Either they are mouse zombies or the exterminator’s traps didn’t work. This morning I reset my trap with peanut butter. All I need now is one hungry mouse.

 

“Fine, but if and when the zombies team up with the mummies to take over the world, you can’t live in my underground bunker.”

June 24, 2017

The air is damp and chilly. The day is so dark that Gracie’s lights came on when she was in the backyard. There is a constant breeze which sometimes blows hard enough to be a wind. It is not an inviting day. The birds sang earlier, but they are gone now. Everything is quiet. Gracie is in her crate sleeping. Maddie is standing under the table lamp getting warm. Her fur is hot to the touch. Animals know how to tbe comfortable.

I have to get more dog food so I’ll be going out later. Other than that, my dance card is empty. I did my laundry yesterday, a huge accomplishment for me as I usually leave it in the hall long enough for the dirty clothes to double in number. I do admit, though, that the clean clothes didn’t make it upstairs yet. They’re on a living room chair. They’ll go up today, maybe.

I fell asleep early last night. The TV and all the lights were left on until about 1:30 when I woke up. I then took Gracie out to pee. I couldn’t even see the house next door in the deep darkness.

Oops, my lights just went out for a minute, long enough that I have to reset appliances and my cable box has to reboot. It has also started raining. At first it was a mist, but it’s now a heavy rain. I can hear it against the windows, and I can see a sheet of rain falling off the eaves outside my den window. The day has become even less inviting.

Last night I made a divine supper sandwich. I toasted English muffins, slathered them with guacamole and then added tomatoes, bacon, and eggs. Every bite was delicious though a bit messy. I blame that on the eggs.

I wonder how much longer the zombie fad will last. It took a while for the undead to take over from vampires, but they did, big time. I’m figuring animals, as in The Zoo, are the next threat to humanity’s survival, but, if that doesn’t work, we can always go back to hostile aliens. They never go out of style.

 

“There are only ten minutes in the life of a pear when it is perfect to eat.”

May 1, 2017

My patience is exhausted so I’m putting Mother Nature on notice. Make up your mind. Is it spring or isn’t it? My heat went on for a bit this morning, and I had to add another afghan as I was cold. The gray sky has returned, and it rained earlier this morning. My dance card has a bunch of house stuff to do like the laundry. It overfloweth. I have some trash and recyclables which I need to move to the trunk. Tomorrow will be dump day, but I have to get a new sticker first. Be still my heart!

When I was a kid, I could eat hot dogs every day. The best were barbecued, but that was on the weekends when my father was home. During the week, my mother fried or boiled them. When she fried them, she’d make cuts across the dogs so both inside and outside got browned. I used yellow mustard and piccalilli. Toasted buns were the best.

 

During the week, my mother served some sort of meat with potatoes and vegetables. The vegetables were frequent flyers, the list of what we liked was limited. We had mashed potatoes, corn, peas, carrots or some sort of squash. Butternut was our favorite.

My mother made great brownies. They were always frosted with chocolate and sprinkled with jimmies (the Boston/New England word for chocolate sprinkles). I liked the harder, outside edges.

Bananas were my favorite fruit. They were the easiest to eat. Just peel. I also liked them on my cereal though they always sank to the bottom. My mother used to peel the apples for us because we didn’t like the peel. I didn’t mind it when I got older. She’d cut the oranges into eighths and take out the seeds. We loved watermelon but ate it only in the summer. I don’t think it was available winters. I didn’t like the seeds in grapes. We used to pick pears off the tree in the next yard. I think they were never as I remember them being hard to bits. Blueberries came in a pie and strawberries in a shortcake. Pineapples and coconut came later. I think coconut is my favorite now.

I think my laziness dictates my meals. I don’t often make dinner. Lunch is a sandwich or hummus, or something equally easy. Cereal is sometimes dinner. I’m into Frosted Flakes, and I still add bananas.

“Tradition is a fine thing. Nothing comes out of the blue, except perhaps thunderbolts and they are not really very useful things.”

November 6, 2016

Today is dark and rainy. The street is now covered with wet leaves and pine needles. They’ll dry then be blown away. My lawn too is covered in brown pine needles and has mostly disappeared. Every small breeze drops yellow oak leaves to the deck. I can watch them fall from the window. My den light is lit giving the room a cozy feel. Gracie and Maddie are asleep. I love mornings like this.

This week I have a meeting on Tuesday, and that is the only entry on my dance card. The rest of the week is wide open. I have some stuff I could do like go through the Christmas presents piled on a guest room bed and catalogue them by person so I can know what I still need to buy. I love to find just the right gifts for people, and it takes a bit of shopping to do that, and Christmas isn’t really all that far away. I did some Christmas shopping in Ghana, and I’m glad for that as the gifts will be unique. I bought yards and yards of traditional Ghanaian GTP cloth to be used to make presents. Now I wish I’d even bought more.

Some gifts have become part of the Christmas tradition. I give everyone a bag filled with smaller gifts including a new ornament with some sort of a personal touch like a fish for my brother-in-law the fly fisherman. The kids also get Christmas books. I give all the women earrings or some sort of jewelry. This year the jewelry is from Ghana. I buy soap for every bag like lobsters or starfish. I also try to find fun gifts. I bought an old fishing drop line for my nephew, a gift of memory for him. There are bigger gifts for the kids. The younger boys get Hess trucks. They are on the way. My only grandniece is getting a doll and a dress from Ghana. My nieces and nephews get gift certificates stuffed into their gift bags, something I started doing when they got into their 20’s and finding just the right gift got too difficult. They love the small gifts and opening the bags is always done on Christmas Eve. It is the tradition, and my family is big on Christmas tradition.

“Vampires, werewolves, fallen angels and fairies lurk in the shadows, their intentions far from honorable.”

October 28, 2016

Fern was hiding this morning, but I managed to find her. She was under a guest room bed sitting on an afghan. She let me pat her, but she didn’t come out. I got her food and water and put it in front of her. She had some of each. I think that is hopeful, but I do wish she were feeling good enough to come downstairs. I’m going to go back up to her when I’m finished here hoping to entice her downstairs where it is far easier to watch her. Fern is almost 18.

The weather has been chilly and rainy. The sun appeared early this morning but is now hidden by clouds. It is really a gloomy day. My heat is on and the lamp in here is lit, but neither keeps that gloom away. My front yard is filled with small pine branches and needles. It will need raking again.

My dance card is empty. I have nowhere fun to go and no one to see. Watering the plants, taking the trash to the dump and doing a load of laundry is what will keep me busy. I also have a couple of new books, and there is always MSNBC.

TCM has made my evening. I can watch all the horror classics like Dracula, The Mummy, The Invisible Man and The Wolf Man. When I was a kid, they were the scary movies. Even though you never saw Dracula take a nibble, you knew just what he was doing behind that cape. Imagination provided the fright. I always felt bad for The Wolf Man. Larry Talbot was just trying to save a woman when he was bitten by the werewolf attacking her. Throughout the movie, he hoped to find a cure but never did. Once that moon had risen, Larry was on the hunt. The worst thing was the ending when his own father killed him with the wolf cane he had used to kill the werewolf which had bitten him. The Mummy too was scary with his dragging bandages and his limp, but I was less afraid of him than the others. I didn’t figure a mummy would likely find me.