Posted tagged ‘deep breathing’

“I sadly want a reform in the construction of children. Nature’s only idea seems to be to make them machines for the production of incessant noise.”

January 5, 2016

I seem to be hibernating. Today I woke up at quarter to twelve and have just now finished my morning coffee and papers. I even had an English muffin, the one with nooks and crannies. During the night we got a dusting of snow. When I went to get the papers, I wanted to hurry because it was so cold, but I figured I’d slip and fall on the snow covered walk so I took my time and froze just a little. I am going nowhere today. I’m going to vacuum and that’s it for industry although I did dust a couple of spots using the sleeve of my sweatshirt. I have a book calling out my name so I’ll get comfy and read the day away.

My house is quiet. I can only hear Gracie’s deep breathing. She’s sleeping at the other end of the couch. The cats are also asleep but they sleep quietly. When I was growing up, I think the house was never quiet except deep into the night when we were all finally asleep. The TV was always on, and at least one of us was sitting in front watching. We sometimes argued about what to watch but not often. The choices back then were limited. My sisters played together, and their dolls talked to one another in weird little voices. By late afternoon my mother was in the kitchen getting dinner ready. I could hear pots and pans clanging, water running and the fridge and oven doors opening and shutting. By then Superman and the Mickey Mouse Club were on TV and we all sat and watched. Dinner was quick and noisy. The four of us sat at the table while my mother stood at the counter.  She always did that. My father was seldom home in time for dinner. After we had eaten, it was back to the TV for a bit then it was time to get washed up and put on our pajamas. My sisters went to bed first. My brother and I were older and had a later bedtime. I used to sneak and read under the covers as long as I could before I’d get caught. My mother knew I did that and was on alert. She’d yell up the stairs to tell me to turn off the light and go to sleep. The house by then was almost quiet. I could hear my parents’ voices from downstairs but I couldn’t tell what they were saying. I don’t think I really cared. Finally I’d fall and stay asleep until my mother woke me up the next morning, and we’d start it all over again, including the noise.

“Winter changes into stone the water of heaven and the heart of man.”

March 5, 2015

Yesterday, after the day and night of heavy rain, I could see my entire brick walkway and sections of my street right down to the pavement. Grass was sticking up in a couple of places in the backyard. When I went out, yup fifth day in a row, I noticed the plowed snow piles on both sides of the roads had become ugly and black. Today, however, everything has disappeared or has been changed. Out my window I can only see fresh snow, heavy fresh snow covering everything and it is still snowing. The layers on the tops of the branches are getting taller and taller. The Cape is the only part of the state with no school. What a horrible distinction. To add to the misery, biting cold is coming starting tonight. My string of five days ends today. I will not be going out nor will I even be getting dressed. I am wearing my around the house flannel pants, a sweatshirt, socks and slippers. I am in my winter uniform, my sloth clothes.

All three animals are asleep in here with me. One cat, Maddie, is on her chair while Fern and Gracie are asleep beside me and each other on the couch. All I can hear is deep breathing, mostly from the dog, but if I pat Fern, she begins to purr. They are my inspirations for a warm, cozy afternoon nap under the comforter. A roaring fire and some cocoa topped with marshmallow Fluff melting on the top would make this the idealized picture perfect winter’s day, a card-worthy day, but it’s freakin’ snowing again and its prettiness wore off quickly.

The first look at snow is the best, an oh moment. After that come the darker, less welcomed visions of shovels and plows, of me throwing and re-throwing de-icer on the steps for the dog and my cleaning off the car for what is, I swear, about the hundredth time. Why I bother I don’t know. The car will just slide up and down the road and right pass my street. My shoes will get snowy and wet. I don’t own boots. I don’t want to own boots. I don’t want to hear the crunch of my tires on newly fallen snow. I want grass and flowers. I want the songs of birds heralding the day and the sweet scent of a spring morning. I don’t think I am asking all that much.

“I like it where it gets dark at night, and if you want noise, you have to make it yourself.”

January 11, 2014

The only snow not yet melted by today’s warmth is in piles left by the plows from last week’s storm. The rain hasn’t started yet but is on its way. It will rain here most of the day, sometimes heavily. The wind is strong. My feeders are spinning like a carnival ride, the swings maybe, the sort of rides which always make me sick. The birds, though, don’t seem to mind and hold on when the feeders are being thrown about by the wind, by the strong wind. That dump run I didn’t make yesterday is on the dance card for today if the rain holds off long enough.

Gracie woke me up this morning by ringing her doggie bells. Yesterday she had an upset stomach so I figured she was going out to graze. Eating grass or my spider plants make her feel better. When she came inside, Gracie wanted a treat, and I obliged. She, however, turned her nose up at everything I offered until I gave her a piece of chicken meat from the deli. Once that was finished she ate all the rest of the treats: the cheese slice, the beef tidbit and the dog biscuit. I figure she was holding out for the best she could get. She knows the treats escalate in quality because I worry when she doesn’t want her usual.

Winter is a lazy time for me. I am content to stay inside. Hanging around the house doesn’t usually get boring as I have books and movies and the occasional dusting chore to keep me busy. I venture out only when I have a list of errands or I need animal food, coffee or cream, essentials in this house. I avoid main roads, supermarkets and parking lots. Rainy days are the best days for errands as people choose to stay home. I don’t care if I get wet. It is easy to get dry.

My house is quiet. I can hear only Gracie’s deep breathing as she sleeps beside me on the couch and Fern’s quiet snores from the pillow behind me where she sleeps. The lamp here is lit staving off the gloom of the morning. I like today.


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