Posted tagged ‘Dennisport’

“Don’t allow your life to become just a dead ritual. Let there be moments, unexplainable.”

April 24, 2017

The house was cold when I woke up. I needed my sweatshirt so I had to dump poor Maddie off. She had slept on it last night. Gracie and I went to get the papers. It was warmer outside than the house. I wanted to cheer. It’s a sign of spring.

When I was a kid, my dog was named Duke. He was a boxer, a fawn boxer. In those days there was no leash law. Duke was a wanderer. Some mornings he’d follow us to school. My father would see him, call him and then go crazy when Duke ignored him so my father would hop in the car and go get him. Duke used to visit my aunt and get Sam to go play with him. Sam was his son. My favorite Duke story is when he followed my grandmother uptown. She wasn’t a dog lover. To try and get away, my grandmother went into Woolworth’s. Duke followed. Once inside, he lifted his leg on the comic book carousel. My grandmother was asked if he were her dog. She said no which was technically true. She left quickly. Duke, not her dog, followed right behind her.

I am not a lover of daily rituals yet I have a few. I take Gracie into the yard first. I start my coffee. While it is perking, I feed the cat, fill the water bowl and, after she comes inside, I give Gracie her treats. I drink a cup of coffee with each of the two papers. I thoroughly read each paper though I admit I only read baseball news on the sports pages and articles which catch my attention in the business section. I check my e-mail then hope for divine inspiration when I open WordPress. I have been writing Coffee for 12 years. Divine inspiration is all I have left after all this time.

The rest of the day is open. When I worked, I went to the dump on Sundays. Now I usually go on Thursdays, a quiet day at the dump, but any day will do. If I have any errands, I make a list and do them all in one day in geographic order hopping from village to village. Sometimes I get that favorite sandwich of mine at Buckies in Dennisport. I consider it a reward for doing all those errands.

When I get home, I put on my comfy clothes. The rest of the afternoon is for reading, maybe napping, doing chores like the laundry and if something is going on, watching the news on MSNBC. I check Facebook.

Dinner is whatever I have on hand which is sometimes as simple as an egg sandwich or cheese and crackers.

I go to bed, actually on the couch, whenever I’m tired. I seldom go early. Gracie sprawls at one end. I try to get comfortable around her.

That’s it. That is sort of my day every day.

 

“We can’t all be heroes because somebody has to sit on the curb and clap as they go by.”

May 25, 2014

Yesterday was a delight. It was so lovely a day that, despite the tourists, I ventured out to do an errand or two. First was the hardware store for a new American flag, pole and holder. I found one and will put it up today. Next I checked a small antique shop where I am sometimes lucky in finding odd, small, neat and inexpensive stuff. Yesterday I wasn’t lucky. I stopped to get gas then I took a roundabout ride to Dennisport partly for the joy of the ride and partly to avoid the traffic. When I got to Dennisport, I was shocked. Usually I can just pick a parking spot as there are few cars, but yesterday I had to ride around twice before a car pulled out right in front of where I was headed. I smartly paralleled parked and went to get my sandwich and pastry.

Today is cloudy and chilly but the sun is trying to break through to bring a little light. The oak leaves are being tossed by the wind. The day is pretty quiet. I don’t hear any neighbors. I guess today is an inside day.

All the villages are having parades tomorrow. I love Memorial Day parades. They are the same in every small town in America. They were exactly the same when I was a little kid. The police cars with lights blinking start the parade and the fire engines ringing their bells end it. In between are color guards, the veterans from various wars, school bands, the brownies and girl and boy scouts. My town always has a WWII jeep, the same one each year, carrying a veteran too old to walk. The parade takes maybe fifteen minutes to pass by. The small crowd is enthusiastic and claps for everyone especially the veterans.

I remember marching in my first Memorial Day parade. I was a brownie and my whole troop marched. I was probably around seven and I took the event quite seriously. I was proud of being a part of that parade. My parents clapped when I walked by them. That was a highlight for me. When I got home, I was bubbly and so very happy as I relayed the whole story of the parade from the beginning to the end, from one street to the other. I proudly told my parents that everyone was out of step but me.