Posted tagged ‘errands’
October 22, 2015
Yesterday I had to go out. Gracie needed her heart medication, and I needed more cough syrup. The God of parking blessed me as I got a spot right in front of the drug store. I crossed the road, went inside and dragged myself to the back of the store to the pharmacy. My head was a ball of sweat (sorry for the graphic details. I should have warned you). After paying for her pills, I decided to adopt Gracie as my daughter so she can have an insurance card because the pills were almost $70.00. My medicine was far cheaper.
I had a couple of other errands on my list, but when I got back to the car, I crumbled the list and drove home. Today I am exhausted.
My friend left tomato basil soup and snickerdoodles on my front step yesterday. She, of course, knows the house is under quarantine or at least it should be. The soup was thick and delicious. It will be my dinner again today.
I’m about done here, I’m taking a sick day.
Categories: Musings
Tags: ball of sweat, cough syrup, drug store, errands, exhausted, sick day, snickerdoodles, the God of parking, tomato basil soup
Comments: 10 Comments
October 13, 2015
My mornings rarely start early, but today the alarm jarred me awake at the God awful hour of 7:30. I had a library board meeting at nine and I wanted time for coffee and some of the paper. After the meeting I did my three errands. This has been a most industrious morning for me.
It started raining last night and was still raining when I woke up. Mother Nature must have looked kindly on me because the rain stopped for the few minutes it took me to get the papers then it started pouring when I got inside. The sun came out around 10 for a while then the clouds came back, but it must be a peek-a-boo day as the sun is back.
The day is warm. The morning was filled with the sounds of birds, and the rain brought a sweetness to the air. It is supposed to get really cold by the end of the week so I will savor today.
My father was a football and hockey fan. He thought baseball was boring and just didn’t enjoy basketball. We were poles apart. Basketball and baseball were always my favorites, and I never did like hockey. I abided football but didn’t understand much of it. Baseball has always been my top favorite sport. The cellar dwellers, the Sox, were a cheap Saturday afternoon in the bleachers when I was a kid. Now they are still cellar dwellers but even the bleachers are expensive. I usually try to go once each year but mostly I watch them on TV. I haven’t been to a Celtics’ game in a long while because I seemed to have lost interest. Filling the gap has been football. My dad would have loved to have someone watch with him, and he’d be thrilled at the success of the Pats. He watched them in their early days, their struggling years. He yelled a lot at the TV. I watch every Pats game, and I now understand the general rules of the game, most infractions and even some strategy. I’m hazy about some positions and their responsibilities, but that doesn’t deter me from enjoying the game. I yell at the TV. My dad would be proud!
Categories: Musings
Tags: Baseball, basketball, errands, football, hockey, morning meeting, Mother Nature, peek-a-boo day, rain, strategy, sun
Comments: 10 Comments
August 22, 2015
Last night it rained, but I missed it. The streets were still wet this morning so I didn’t miss it by much. I caught the annoying bug, but it wasn’t a cricket but rather a smokeippus alarmus more commonly known as a smoke alarm. It was time to change the battery.
Today is overcast and humid. We may even have more rain later. Movie night is postponed until tomorrow just in case. Someone is cutting his lawn, but the sound is muted in the thickness of the air. The feeders are popular this morning.
The red store and the white store were where we went for milk or bread or whatever else my mother needed. The white store was run by two old ladies, sisters I think. The red store was just one guy who smoked a lot. The store had a haze. The two ladies were patient and pleasant. Their store had a penny candy case, and they’d wait until we’d picked what we wanted. It was never easy. Sometimes I went for the hard candy like Mary Janes, Bit-o-Honey or the square candy with green mint and yellow banana flavors. All of them lasted a long time which was their appeal. Other times I went for the small, chocolatey, licorice candies with the racist name. We didn’t realize the meaning of that word. To us it was just the name of the candy. Sometimes I’d buy the paper with all the colored dots. The only problem was a bit of paper sometimes came with the dots. The ladies also had nickel bars, but we seldom had that much money. The Red Store had everything. The store was small and the aisles narrow, but every space was filled. There was even a frozen case on the far wall. I also remember a display of everything Hostess. It had penny candy, but the owner wasn’t very patient. Sometimes, though, I had to bike there to get what my mother wanted because the white store didn’t have it.
I miss the little stores. They helped make a neighborhood.
Categories: Musings
Tags: errands, humid and warm, Mary Janes, muted sounds, overcast, penny candy, smoke alarm, smoking man, two old ladies, White and Red Stores
Comments: 14 Comments
June 29, 2015
The morning is sweatshirt weather, cloudy, damp and chilly. Everything is still a bit wet. We need sun, and luckily, the weather report is hopeful: sun in the afternoon. I hope it’s right.
My neighbor and I chatted this morning, and I sat on the damp steps for so long I could get piles. Okay, I know that’s not true, but that’s what I used to hear: sitting on cold ground was never a good idea because it caused piles. It wasn’t until I was much older that I found out piles are better known as hemorrhoids. Their connection to damp concrete was just an old wife’s tale, a bit of a weird one I think.
I have a few errands for later but that’s it for the day. My back is feeling better so I don’t want to chance hurting it again by doing anything. It’s a great excuse to lie around and do nothing, as if I really needed an excuse.
Every now and then I lose a day. I find something to hold my attention and before I know it the day has gone to afternoon. Often it is a good book as I am always loath to put down a good book. Sometimes I sit on the deck, get drowsy and fall asleep on the lounge. When I wake up, the sun is lower in the sky.
I seldom check clocks and I don’t wear a watch. If I need to be somewhere, I leave early enough to get there. My bedroom has a clock because once in a while I need to set the alarm, usually to meet friends for breakfast. My den has the clock on the cable box. I check it to make sure to watch a particular TV program. I think this dislike of clocks and watches comes from my life having been driven by time. I had to get up in time to have breakfast and to walk to school, later to catch the bus to school. Ghana was where time was of the least importance, but I still needed to know when my class was starting, and I had to set the alarm to catch an early bus. Beyond those, time meant little. You waited until the lorry was filled before it could leave. Nobody knew how long that would take. People arrived whenever which was defined as Ghana time. I got used to that. I learned to wait, to while away the time.
When I got home, I was again ruled by clocks and watches. Wasting time was sinful. It was the alarm clock every morning and bells all through the day to start and stop classes. Buses and trains left on time.
Retirement is glorious as time is of little importance. I go to bed when I’m tired and wake up whenever. I list appointments on the desk calendar, the one with Jeopardy questions, the one my sister puts in my stocking every year. I don’t keep a daily calendar in my bag the way I used to when I worked. I am a lady of leisure who has no need to know the time.
Categories: Musings
Tags: appointment calendar, cloudy, errands, Ghanaian time, good books, hurt back, lose time, lost days, piles, retirement, sloth, timeless, waiting, watches and clocks, wet ground, while away the time, while the time away
Comments: 12 Comments
June 6, 2015
The rain started during the night and has just stopped. Rain, even a bit of it, seems to dampen sounds. I don’t even hear birds. I did hear Gracie barking in the back yard, but I couldn’t find what prompted the warning. She has since come in and settled down for her morning nap, probably exhausted from all her barking. Fern too is napping for no other reason than just because she is a cat, and that’s what cats do.
My list did not get finished yesterday so I have to do the errands today. That’s okay as the tourists aren’t here yet for weekends, other than Memorial Day weekend, so I’ll find a place to park and not have to wait in line. I have three stops.
My father used Saturday mornings for his errands. Sometimes he would invite one of us but mostly he went alone. My Dad knew everybody in town so his errands took a while. He went to a two-seater barber shop. The one in Mayberry always reminded me of the one uptown. There was no Floyd but there was the same barber for years. He never had to ask how my father wanted his hair trimmed. He knew. The Chinese laundry also knew how my father liked his shirts. Back then my father only wore white shirts and they were always starched. I never thought about my dad taking his shirts to a laundry and not having my mother do them. That was just the way it was. Much later my father wore different colored shirts which didn’t need to be ironed fresh from the dryer. The first was a yellow button down collar shirt I gave him one Father’s Day. My mother said he’d never wear it, but he did. Another stop for my father was to visit his friend, a pharmacist at his own drug store. It was a small store crammed with anything and everything that bigger drug stores had. It even had a four stool fountain. Those stools had red covers. The last stop for my dad was sometimes at the Red Men where he’d have a beer with the guys. My dad was a member for a long time and one year was even Sachem. The organization is the nation’s oldest patriotic fraternal organization of American origin. I never knew that until I was much older. I just thought it was place for guys to sit around and have a beer or a drink. Come to find out it is both.
Some days develop personalities. Sunday is church day. Monday is the dreaded back to work day. Tuesday and Thursday are just days of the week that nobody seems to mind. Wednesday is hump day, the middle day, the starting line for the countdown to the weekend. Friday opens the weekend. We used to go out Friday afternoons when there were happy hours. It was a weekly ritual. Saturday is for chores and errands but it the best night of the week. Anything special happens on a Saturday night.
Categories: Musings
Tags: a beer or a drink, barber shop, barking dog, Chinese laundry, days of the week, errands, happy hours, hump day, Mayberry and Floyd, morning nap, quiet, rain, Red Men, special Saturdays, starched white shirts, to do list
Comments: 15 Comments
June 5, 2015
This morning is warmer than yesterday morning but still in the 50’s. We have sun and blue skies and a bit of a breeze. It’s a pretty morning. Lots for me to do today including laundry, sweeping the deck, doing some errands and painting a part of the fence.
Last night my friends came for dinner. Other than the mixed grill, everything I served was new to me. That’s taking a chance, but usually my dishes are successes so I head confidently into the unknown. Every dish from appetizers to dessert drew compliments. I was asked to share two recipes, both simple to make, and I was pleased to oblige.
Last night I used the grill for the first time this summer. There should have been fireworks and majorettes and weather warm enough for dining al fresco, but that will come soon enough.
The first barbecues I remember were hot dogs and hamburgers on a small charcoal grill. My father always did the grilling. It is a strange phenomenon that men who never touch a stove do all the outside cooking. I think it harkens back to cavemen hauling home a piece of meat to be cooked over the fire. Tending the fire was men’s work which translated over time into cooking on a grill. My father cooked the meat perfectly no matter what it was. The menu changed as I got older, and my father cooked sausages of all sorts, steak tips, pork tenderloin, chicken and one of my personal favorites, ribs. My mother made all the side dishes: potato salad was the family favorite.
My father always cooked with charcoal, but his was the light a match and toss it on the briquets type which smelled a little like chemicals when it was first lit. He waited and watched and knew exactly when to start the cooking by reading the coals. He kept a spray bottle near him in case of flares ups. He’d sit out there, have a drink or two and cook, usually by himself. His attention was all for the food, not conversation.
He’d pile the meat on a serving platter, come inside and announce dinner was served. We were ready. The salads were made, the table set, and we were hungry for that food we had smelled cooking through the opened windows. It was always kudos for the chef.
Categories: Musings
Tags: barbecues, briquets, cavemen, charcoal, cold night, dinner guests, errands, first time dishes, hamburgers, hot dogs, hunters, Laundry, mixed grill, outdoor grill, painting, pretty morning, sausages
Comments: 6 Comments
May 26, 2015
Today, according to the paper, will be a warm one, in the 70’s. I, however, am a bit skeptical as the clouds have obscured the sun, and there is a stiff breeze. My list is long today. I have several places to go. Yesterday I bought herbs and perennials and a few tomatoes. I wanted more veggies, but there were none, all had been sold. I’ll try a couple of other garden centers hoping to find my snap peas.
Lots of people were down for the weekend. The line to go off cape was miles long, but the wait was not unexpected. It happens every Sunday and turnover Saturdays until Labor Day. The sun and surf carry a big price.
I never cared whether or not we went on vacation. Saturday night was usually the drive-in and Sunday the beach. We went to Maine a few times and stayed at my father’s friend’s cottage, the tiniest place ever. Beds were build-in wherever there was space so the place could sleep 10 or 12 people. On both sides of the cottage, the nearest neighbors were within spitting distance. The water was too cold for swimming. There was really nothing for me to do. It was my least favorite vacation spot, but it was free so I was stuck.
We never came down the cape. We went north. I remember seeing the Old Man of the Mountain, now gone, the flume and the top of Mount Washington. My dad drove our car up he mountain on what I thought was a really narrow road. We were on the outside and there were no rails. I could see right down the mountain, but what I remember most is how cold it was on the top of Mount Washington ever though it was summer. I think we did that trip in a day.
There was a lake we went to which had a slide into the water, a regular slide, nothing fancy, and a zip line you held onto with both hands. I don’t remember the name of the lake, but we it was always a day trip. I liked lake water. It was always warm, and if I happened to swallow some water, it wasn’t gross like salt water. We would swim almost for the whole day stopping only for lunch and then the hour wait so we wouldn’t die of cramps.
It never occurred to me that we seldom went away. Summers always seemed busy. We had that one huge trip to Niagara Falls, but that was it. I still remember every stop on that trip. It must have taken my parents a long time to save enough money. I remember it as my first visit to a foreign country.
Categories: Musings
Tags: errands, lakes, long lines, Maine, Mount Washington, Niagara Falls, Old Man of the Muntain, plants, spitting distance, the flume, tiny house, vacations, warm day, weekend crowd
Comments: 10 Comments
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.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 7:30, bed making, cloudy, cool morning, errands, grey squirrel nest, mother squirrel, newspapers and coffee, plastic bag, school, school yard, sweet smelling, walking
Comments: 16 Comments
February 19, 2015
The sun has appeared. The ice and snow are actually melting. How lucky for us it will get cold again tonight and all that water will freeze. We are on a treadmill. Last night there were flurries. Tomorrow night will be the coldest night yet. If I go to a dictionary to look up winter, I’m going to see a picture of the pile of snow at the corner of my street, the icicles on my house and my car stuck trying to get up the hill. Winter has been redefined this year.
Gracie and I are going out later. I need cream for my coffee and cat food. I also need food for my soul. I’m thinking of my favorite sandwich and a whoopie pie. We are going to the dump first as we never made it last week with all the snow. Gracie will be glad. Me, not so much.
I seem to be talking to myself a whole lot more since my involuntary hibernation, but I am not yet hearing responses. I figure if I do, I’m probably too far along the crazy spectrum to find it peculiar. I might even enjoy it.
My inside winter uniform never changes style. I wear socks, slippers (alternating between my two pairs), a t-shirt with a sweatshirt over it and kick around the house pants, mostly flannel. I am not dressed for company, but I don’t worry as I don’t expect any. I am wearing my Red Sox sweatshirt, the most hopeful sweatshirt I own. It speaks of spring and summer, a reminder that someday Fenway will be clear of snow, hawkers will be selling Fenway franks, and we’ll be hearing the crack of the bat hitting the ball and maybe, just maybe, watching the ball sail over the Green Monster.
“Hope is the thing with feathers-That perches in the soul..” I always think Emily Dickinson is right and her description perfect.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Baseball, Chocolate, dump, errands, Fenway Park, flurries, food for my soul, freezing nights, going crazy, involuntary hibernation, melting icicles, Red Sox sweatshirt, Whoopie pie, winter uniform
Comments: 12 Comments
January 30, 2015
Drab is about the best description for today. The sky is grey, and it is very damp outside. At times it is spitting rain as my mother would say. I’m okay with that as my sister outside of Boston is getting snow again: 4 to 6 inches. I’d be screaming.
Gracie can get outside through the dog door and has a patch of driveway at the end so she can do her business. The only problem is she likes to go into the backyard for her more substantial business and she can’t get there. After I let her out this morning, I saw her squat then I went to get my coffee. When I got back to the door, I saw she was gone which is surprising as there is nowhere to go then I noticed her head and one paw poking out between two back steps from behind. She had gone under the farmer’s deck. I ran and switched from slippers to shoes and then ran to the door to go help her. Well, she had already figured out to follow her way under to get out and was walking up the steps.
Water is dripping from the roof and icicles are forming at the edges. The beauty of the snow is disappearing because the day is above freezing and the rain slowly pits and erodes the snow. Nothing about today is pretty.
It’s a short post today mostly because my inactivity has made life a bit boring. I read, picked appetizers to make for Super Bowl watching, play backgammon against the computer and caught up with Grantchester, a wonderful series on PBS. I even napped in the afternoons. I suppose I could clean but that is the last desperate measure.
It’s time to get moving. Gracie and I are going to the dump for one of our errands. She’ll be thrilled: as for me, not so much.
Categories: Musings
Tags: backyard business, beauty of the snow, drab day, dump, errands, Gracie squatting, grey sky, icicles, rain
Comments: 6 Comments
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