Posted tagged ‘energy’

“A basket of ripe fruit is holier than any prayer book.”

February 19, 2018

When I got the papers this morning, I expected a warm day, but I was disappointed. It’s a chilly day. The sky is cloudy and rain is predicted for tonight. I do have a couple of errands to do later.

This morning, while my coffee was brewing, I had a surprise burst of energy. I polished a shelf, swept the kitchen, washed the cat dish and cleaned the sink and counter. That’s the most housework I’ve done in a few weeks. I’d like to think this burst of energy will be a rare event.

I treated myself this morning and had two lemon biscotti with my coffee. I love the taste of lemon so much I could live on lemon squares. Lemon meringue pie tops my list of favorite pies. I think we were one of the few families where a lemon meringue pie was traditional for Thanksgiving. I even learned to cook a few dishes with preserved lemons.

I’d never turn down anything made with pineapple except maybe pizza. In Ghana I ate pineapple just about every day as part of my lunch, always a bowl of fresh fruits. I like Thai food with pineapple. I almost don’t care about the other ingredients. In my cook book from Peace Corps Ghana was a recipe for pineapple upside down cake. I always wanted to make it, but I had no oven, only a charcoal burner. A couple of old cook books from the 50’s have pictures of a finished pineapple upside cake. They are perfect and have a cherry in the middle hole of the pineapple.

When I was kid, only a few fruits were available all year. My mother bought bananas, oranges and apples. The apples were always red. The oranges had seeds. In the summer we had watermelon and grapes, green grapes. At Thanksgiving we had tangerines, our parade snack. I didn’t even know fruits likes mangoes and papayas existed. Coconuts were on tropical islands in the books I read. We were fruit deprived.

“There are two kinds of fears: rational and irrational- or in simpler terms, fears that make sense and fears that don’t.”

September 28, 2017

Sometime during the night it rained. I slept through it. The street and the yard were still damp when I woke up late, close to ten. The air is wet, humid. The sky is gray. There is a breeze but it does little to clear the air. Today is the last day of the heat, according to the weatherman. Tonight the temperature will go down to the low 50’s.

I filled all the bird feeders this morning. The bottoms of a couple of them had mold and the seeds were in a clump. I cleaned every one. Last I checked, the bird weren’t back yet.

Huzzah! Huzzah! The first load of laundry is in the washer. A second load sits on the floor waiting its turn. I can’t remember the last time I had so much laundry. These two full loads are testaments to my sloth.

In Ghana, I had my laundry done when I lived there and when I visited. During training we found women in the nearest village to do the laundry. Everything was washed by hand in buckets. The irons were heated with charcoal. It was the same forty years later.   On my last trip, shirts were 2 cedis, about fifty cents. Pants were four, a whole dollar. I came home with clean clothes.

I do everything I can to do nothing. My house gets cleaned and my yard is kept neat, except for the back which no one sees, and my groceries get delivered right to the kitchen. If I could afford more, I’d have my laundry done while I sat and ate bonbons.

I need bread, and I could go to the dump though I’m thinking tomorrow is the better day Just because I don’t want to go today.

I don’t mind clowns or bugs. I have a black cat. Heights don’t make me dizzy, but rides which go around and around make me throw up. Stopping at the top of a Ferris wheel isn’t a problem for me. I like the view. I don’t get the fear of spiders, but scorpions are a different story. Once I had a scorpion roaming on my living room floor, and my student killed it with my sandal. She asked permission first. I said yes because scorpions bite. Sometimes I hear noises I can’t explain. They give me pause. I lower the TV and listen. Usually I don’t hear it again. If I did, I’d pass it off as an animal or a bird. That’s the easiest answer and the one which doesn’t make me afraid.

“I used to cover my windows in heavy curtains, never drawn. Now I danced in the sunlight on my hardwood floors.”

March 21, 2017

Today is a wonder. It is bright and warmish, almost springlike. I stood outside on the deck for a while watching Gracie, but I got a bit chilly so I came back inside. She stayed outside. Both doors are open. The sun is streaming through the front door working its way to the back, to the south. A day like today recharges my batteries. I have a long to-do list, but I have already crossed off two chores. Granted, they were quick and easy, but I still feel accomplished.

I figure my energy is a reflection of the warmth and the sunlight. Winter days make it easy to do nothing but lie on the couch under something cozy and read or watch television, but I’d feel guilty wasting a day like today.

When I was a kid, I loved to go miniature golfing. It was at Hago Harrington’s where the windmill was my nemesis. It had three lanes at the bottom leading from under the mill to the green. I don’t know how many times I missed them all. I still remember the thud sound of the ball hitting the wooden windmill, not the lanes. It was frustrating. My favorite had a slope which, if played right, dropped the ball right into the hole. On the last hole, a hole in one got you a free play. Hago Harrington’s is still there.

On the way to the beach yesterday, I saw a couple of houses still lit with Christmas lights. The colors lit up the darkness. I have new lights, all white bulbs, I need to put on the gate trailing the new star I bought. I also have a multi-colored set for the deck rail. They are on my to-do list. My neighbor will be glad. She called me a while back to say how much she loved my lights.

I’ve been watching CSI: New York on Netflix. They have a plethora of dead bodies, a necessity for the crime lab. After watching murder after murder, I’ve decided that being a murder victim would be the perfect role. There are no lines to learn so all I’d have to do is lie down and try not to breathe or blink. Sounds easy to me.

“A cold wind was blowing from the north, and it made the trees rustle like living things.”

September 5, 2016

When I woke up this morning, I was disappointed. Where was the rain? Where was the wind? All the forecasts last night had the storm starting Sunday night or early Monday morning. I was eager for rain, and who doesn’t like a mighty wind?

The weather changed in the last couple of hours. All we are missing is snow. It rained twice for a total of about five minutes, and in between the sun came out. The wind is getting stronger. The oak leaves are blowing and the tree branches are bending back and forth. The trunks of the pine trees are swaying. People are always drawn to the beaches during weather like this. The waves are as high as 6 feet. The energy from the wind and waves is palpable.

It took me only about ten minutes yesterday to ready the deck for the wind. I took the clay pots off the deck rail, took down the bird feeders hanging from hooks on branches and also took down candles hanging on hooks. I closed and fastened the umbrella. I’m hoping everything is safe from the wind.

Right now it is getting quite dark. I hope it means a rainstorm.

Today is a lazy day. My only chore is to bring the laundry from the cellar downstairs to my bedroom upstairs. The dump is closed today so trash will have to wait until tomorrow. I choose not to make my bed as I envision a nap in my future. Right now I’m watching TCM. The theme of the day is movies with devil or angel in the title. The Devil Makes Three just started. It is not a movie I have ever heard of before now. It stars Gene Kelly as an American serviceman in post-war Germany, specifically Munich. The description says he discovers a plot to revive the Nazi Party. I think it sounds like a perfect movie for a stay at home day.

“Walking the stacks in a library, dragging your fingers across the spines — it’s hard not to feel the presence of sleeping spirits.”

June 20, 2014

The morning is cool and breezy. I slept in a bit later than usual as did Fern and Gracie, but for some reason I have been busy already. I made my bed first thing then watered the vegetable garden and the deck plants, filled the bird feeder, put the dog blankets and pillow in the washing machine and hauled up from the cellar bags of cans for recycling. It is as if I am Popeye after eating the can of spinach.

Today I had nothing planned, but I’ll take in the cans and see how much I make, pick up a few things at the grocery store, buy canned dog food and maybe take a ride to nowhere. I haven’t done that in a long while.

When I was young, I loved just sitting and reading. The library was a weekly stop for me. The librarian, on the kids’ side, was the epitome of librarians with her bun hairdo, her old lady silky looking dress with buttons and her clunky tie shoes. She was a husher who would put her finger across her lips to remind whoever was talking to be quiet. Libraries back then were like churches. You sat quietly in your seat or you walked, almost on tip toes, from bookcase to bookcase. If you spoke, it was always in whispers. Even the librarian whispered. I’d find my books and leave as quickly as I could. Nobody hung out at the library. Sometimes on the walk home I’d stop and sit on one of the benches near the town hall and read a bit. The benches were shaded and there was usually a bit of a breeze and I couldn’t wait to start a new book. I’d read a few chapters then walk the rest of the way home. The next week I’d do it all over again.

My little town library is a hubbub of activity. There are speakers on some Thursdays, the librarian has no bun, wears pants and talks aloud to all her patrons. The library is a welcoming place. The kids’ section is filled with wonderful books, stuffed animal book characters and kid-sized tables and chairs. In the summer there are story hours and not a single kid is ever hushed. I can always count on a perfect recommendation for a book from the librarian, and I don’t have to speak in whispers.

Libraries have a lot of competition from e-books. I buy them too, but I still love visiting my library. There is something comforting about being surrounded by all those books. I can walk up and down the aisles, pull out a book, read the jacket and then decided whether or not I want to read it. I always end up with three or four books. I save the e-books for when I travel. I just can’t curl up with a good book on my iPad.