Posted tagged ‘flowers’

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“Everybody likes a roller coaster ride.”

August 11, 2014

This morning I have already cleaned off the deck and filled the bird feeders. I also tried again to attach the fronds to my new palm tree, but they are just too heavy for me to hold with one hand and attach with the other. I’ll have to wait until Thursday when Lee and Roseana come to clean. Lee is always happy to help.

If you want to know the weather, check yesterday’s Coffee because it is the same today, the same gorgeous day. I see a deck day, and I also see a dump run as I have already loaded the car. Gracie will be glad. Weekends are no longer dump days as the traffic is lined up along the street to the dump and inside is a mad house. Mondays are quiet.

My front garden is beautiful so I’ll try to take some pictures today. I always wanted a garden filled with flowers, and this garden is exactly what I dreamed. Not being a gardener, it was hit or miss with the flowers I chose, but I did well. I noticed some bare spots and a bush is going to be moved this fall so next year I get to buy more flowers, perennials in the front. I’ll do a bit of research first then make my list. Some I may have to get on-line as rare flowers aren’t at the local garden shops. People tend to buy the familiar.

We never came down the cape when I was a kid. All our vacations were in Maine or Vermont. On weekends we went to local beaches on the North Shore. When I was really young, we went to Revere Beach. I remember aunts and uncles and cousins being there with us as well. I also remember the adults would take turns. Some would watch us while others would run across the street for a drink or two. Revere Beach back then had all sorts of food booths, bars, arcade games and rides. We kids never left the beach. There was always plenty to eat and drink from the various baskets. We’d whine and ask to go on a ride, but I can’t remember ever taking one though maybe we rode the merry-go-round, but that is a hazy memory at best.

When I was in high school, my friends and I would go to Revere Beach on a Friday or Saturday night. We’d buy sausage subs with peppers and onions and eat them as we walked along the boardwalk. We rode the roller coaster. I remember that roller coaster more than any other ride because when I was young I could see the top of the coaster from the highway on the way to visit my grandparents. It was a sign post of sorts as to where we were. I loved that old wooden coaster. I remember the anticipation and maybe a little fear as the roller coaster slowly climbed that first hill. I remember the sounds of the coaster. It made squealing noises around corners, the wheels clicked on the track for the whole ride and people always screamed, especially down that first hill. The brave ones didn’t hold on but raised both arms in the air in a show of bravado. I wasn’t one of them. I always held on.

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“…it was so rich and exotic I was seduced into taking one bite and then another as I tried to chase the flavors back to their source.”

July 22, 2014

The morning has been a busy one around the Ryan homestead. The huge pine branch which fell is gone as are several branches and a dead pine tree or two. I had to keep an eye on my landscaper as many more trees would have gone on the chopping block. He loves to cut down trees. All the ground brush was also cut down then everything was blown clean, including the deck. The yard looks great. The deck needs a bit of washing because of the birds, and I’ll do that later.

Finally we have a glorious summer day, sunny and cool, and in the 70’s. It rained again yesterday so the grass is staying green and the flowers are tall and filled with buds. My front garden will soon be awash with brilliant colors. Every morning when I get my papers I check on the garden. I stand and marvel at how fresh and beautiful it all looks.

I really have nothing to do today, but I thought I’d go to the library and Agway. A few of my deck flowers need a boost so I’ll buy some annuals which didn’t find any homes and supplement the ones on my deck. I ate tomatoes yesterday, cherry tomatoes, straight from my garden. They were sweet and juicy.

When I lived in Ghana, I had a bowl of fruit for lunch every day. The bowl was filled with oranges, pineapple, pawpaw, mango and bananas. I never tired of that same meal. The fruit was as fresh as any fruit I had ever tasted. Ghanaian oranges are green and on the small side, but they are the sweetest of the fruits. I used to buy one or two to eat when I was on the road traveling. Aunties and small girls would come to the bus window to sell oranges from trays on their heads, and I always bought a couple.

My love for pineapple comes from Ghana. Before eating the fresh Ghanaian pineapples, I had only eaten Dole’s cut up pineapples in thick juice from a can. I’m not even sure we could buy fresh pineapples when I was growing up. Had I seen one in the flesh, I would have thought it a strange fruit with all the nobs on its skin and the green sprouting top.

Sometimes I think about the foods I ate when I was a kid. Most vegetables came from a can, corn in the summer being an exception. The fruits were apples, oranges and bananas, nothing exotic unless you count green apples. I don’t remember farm stands anywhere near we lived, and farmers’ markets were a long way off in the future.

I know it was Ghana which totally changed my palate. The fruits and vegetables I ate were fresh from the market. Some I hadn’t ever seen or heard of before, but I tried them and mostly liked them. The chickens were still alive when I bought them but the beef wasn’t. It was iffy. I didn’t really care. I ate it anyway.

I found out there was more to the global world of food than just Italian and Chinese. Though I didn’t think about it at the time, one of the best side benefits of being a Peace Corps volunteer was an educated palate grown out of a curiosity about trying and liking new foods.

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“It was June, and the world smelled of roses. The sunshine was like powdered gold over the grassy hillside.”

June 29, 2014

The day is breathtakingly beautiful. My day lilies in the front garden have started to bloom with orange flowers tilted to the sun. The deck pots are awash with flowers, and the vegetables seem to double in height each day. Birds are plentiful at the sunflower feeders, and the grape jelly needs to be refilled. It seems the orioles have found their feeders. On the deck this morning were two grey spawns, two huge grey spawns, chasing one another. I watched them jump from chair to chair then jump off the deck to scurry up trees one after the other. I think love is in the air.

My neighbors at the other end of the street had company last night. Their voices carried through the chilly night air. I felt like an eavesdropper so I shut my windows, but those voices brought back a flood of memories of summer nights when I was a kid. All the neighborhood back doors faced each other from houses at the top and bottom of a tall grassy hill. I’d lie in bed on a summer night trying to fall asleep in the heat, and I could hear the neighbors. The closest neighbors had distinct voices, whole conversations, while those from up the hill seemed more like whispers. I’d hear the clink of dishes and silverware being washed. The houses were duplexes, and their floor plans were all the same. The sinks had windows above them and they all faced the hill. Soon enough, though, as the night got older, the sounds from the kitchens faded.

One of my bedroom windows faced the living room of the duplex beside ours where my Aunt Ruby, Uncle Billy and Cousin Susan lived for a while. I used to listen to their TV. Most nights it was the last sound I’d hear before I fell asleep.

My street is busy this week. The house beside me, the rental, has people. The other usually empty houses, all second homes, have owners down for the weekend or even the week with July 4th coming Friday. Mornings and evenings are noisier than I am used to, but I’ll adjust. Besides, I’ll be making my own noises soon enough when Saturday night movies on the deck begin. I can hardly wait for the premier.

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“Flowers seem intended for the solace of ordinary humanity.”

June 3, 2014

This morning, around 1 am, I was awoken by an odd sound, a repeating sound. At first I thought it was an animal screaming from being caught by a coyote, but it went on too long for that. Next I figured it was a goose, a large, walking through the neighborhood goose. The sound was right below my window at one point then was quite distant at another then it came closer again. Gracie got up and went downstairs, but I wasn’t going to let her out. Finally the sound faded then disappeared, and I went back to sleep. I asked my neighbor if she heard anything. She hadn’t. My other neighbor said she had seen around 12 or 13 turkeys wandering the neighborhood yesterday. I think that’s exactly what it was: a turkey looking for the rest of the turkeys.

The leaves on the big oak by the deck are mottled with sun. They wave in the breeze, a warm breeze. The air is sweet-smelling. Today is glorious, a short-sleeve day, a day to spend outside.

My lawn is green, spring green. It is soft on bare feet. In the mornings when I go to get the papers the grass is cool, but in the afternoons the grass is hot and means a speedier trip to pick up the mail.

The front walk is lined on both sides with potted plants. I bought flowers, herbs and veggies yesterday. I didn’t buy enough. I never do. Skip is now fencing in the vegetable garden. The old fence was flimsy and needed replacing. The new one will keep Gracie outside. She’ll have to dig somewhere else. Soon enough the tomatoes and cucumbers and two more vegetables yet to be decided will be planted and watered. I get to watch them grow, and I get to be amazed.

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“Long live your laundry!”

June 2, 2014

Wonder of wonders: my first laundry load is in the dryer and the second is in the washing machine. No longer does the bag of laundry lying there by the cellar door haunt me. My victory lap was well-earned. Tomorrow, though, I change my bed and the laundry bag gets filled anew. It is an endless cycle. Blame Adam and Eve who in being thrown out of the garden had to drop the leaves and don clothing.

It’s a sprawl in the sun on the rug by the door morning for the cats, proof that spring is finally entrenched. Last night stayed in the 50’s. Today is lovely, a word not often heard anymore, but it fits perfectly.

It is is plant and flower buying day, one of favorite days of the year. I’ll shop for herbs and veggies for the two small gardens and for flowers to fill the deck window boxes and clay pots, some of which need replacing. All this shopping frenzy is in preparation for tomorrow, opening day. My factotum, Skip, is coming to clean the deck and decorate it and the yard for summer, weed the two gardens then plant the herbs and veggies, fill all the window boxes and pots which sit on the deck rail with new soil and both flowers and herbs then finally de-spider and clean the outside shower. The deck is covered in pine pollen so it will not only need sweeping but also washing. The fence around the veggie garden needs some work as a few of the fence boards broke over the winter and Gracie has dug a few holes in the garden. She is a champion hole-digger.

My dryer has just announced the first load is dry and ready for folding and the second load is set to take its place. I do feel accomplished.

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“I’ve seen enough horror movies to know that any weirdo wearing a mask is never friendly.”

May 19, 2014

The mornings have a routine. I make coffee, get the papers, give the cats and the dog their treats, have a cup of coffee while I read each paper and then get dressed. The rest of the day is open. I like my mornings. The cats and the dog have their own routines. Fern and Gracie greet me when I wake up and then follow me downstairs where Maddie is waiting for attention. Gracie goes out, barks a bit and squats. Fern lies in the sun and Maddie stays beside me on the couch. Within a short time, all three of them are having morning naps. I suspect they like their mornings too.

The weather has been perfectly lovely with lots of sun, temperatures in the 60’s and chilly nights for cozy sleeping. The leaves are all open on the oak trees, the lilacs have flowers and the front garden is beginning to bloom. I’m itching to go flower shopping.

Monsters were big when I was a kid. We had the Mummy, Frankenstein, the Wolfman, the Invisible Man and insects the size of a city building. Most were scary because I was young. My brother was even afraid of Maleficent in Sleeping Beauty. He hid under his seat at the movies. But as I got older, they stopped being scary. I had learned the difference between real and pretend. I admit I jumped when the head appeared in the hole in the sunken boat in Jaws. I also jumped when I saw Aliens and a creature leapt at the test tube. I think most people in the theater jumped. Afterwards, we all chuckled in a sort of reflex action.

I yell at the TV during some scary movies. When a character says, “I’ll go check it out,” I yell in warning. He will be next to go, no question about it. In one movie, there was blood up the stairs on the wall, and off he went to check it out. He never made it downstairs. As fort me, blood on the wall would have me running in the opposite direction.

 

Not much of late scares me. Movies have become blood and mayhem and the number of corpses runs into the double digits. Zombies are being replaced by the living dead, a wonderful oxymoron. I remember my first of them: The Night of the Living Dead. I thought it was gross. I like The Walking Dead, but it too is gross. I do have a conundrum with that show. After the walkers attack and eat a person, how come that person doesn’t become a walker? My guess is they also eat the head, but you never see that, only the dining on the disgusting innards.

I still like a movie which scares me.

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“The Scriven men wore stack-heeled boots and pearl-studded evening coats; the ladies in their vast skirts looked like mythical creatures, half woman, half sofa.”

May 5, 2014

We have been graced with sun yet again. The day will be warmish. I’ve become hopeful and have even started to make a list of flowers for the garden, perennials for the front and annuals for the boxes in the back. I also need herbs for both the herb garden and the deck boxes and vegetables for my small vegetable garden. I love to shop for flowers.

When I was young, girls’ dungarees had a zipper in the front pocket. They weren’t as sturdy as boys’ dungarees. My brother wore jerseys and I mostly wore blouses. In the summer I wore sleeveless blouses and shorts. I also wore white sneakers and socks. I don’t know why, but I never wore sandals. I don’t remember if anyone did. My brother never wore shorts. Boys seldom did even in the heat of summer. Shorts were a girl thing, and the distinction between girls’ and boys’ stuff was huge when I was growing up. Boys’ bikes had that bar across the middle while girls’ bikes didn’t. No boy would have ever been caught dead on a girl’s bike, but if you think about it now, the boys would have been better served with no bar. My brother wore black Converse high tops, and I wore Converse as well but white, kind of pointy-toed ankle high sneakers. When I was young, keeping them white didn’t matter, but when I was older, keeping them white was so important I remember using white shoe polish to cover up scuffs. The polish would seep through the sneakers onto my socks and feet. Boys had better winter hats. They had ear flaps which kept their ears warm. I had a wool tam which didn’t make it to my ears which were always cold and red. We both wore mittens. Gloves were for adults. Our boots went over our shoes. Boys mostly wore black boots. Girls preferred colors. Red was a favorite. I never wore pants to school except under my skirt on the coldest days. The only time I could wear pants was playing after school or on Saturdays. I always thought it was a gyp.

Even in Ghana I had to wear dresses all the time. Clothes I brought with me didn’t hold up well to hand scrubbing so I had dresses made. We all did. They were made with Ghanaian cloth and were beautiful. When I went back a few years ago, I brought a dress and wore it once. The rest of time I wore pants. They had become acceptable for women.

There are very few times or places where a dress is expected wear. I wore one this Easter as I do every year. I think the last time before that was a wedding. I have a fall-winter dress and two spring-summer dresses. They are all I need.

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“An Easter bonnet can tame even the wildest hare. “

April 19, 2014

The day is lovely with a bright sun and a deep blue sky. The wind has disappeared. The temperature at 54˚ is the start of a heat wave. Time to break out the sandals.

I have a few errands today, and I made an appointment for Gracie at the vets. I first thought she had a stroke last night because she was dripping saliva from one side of her face as if she had no control. I checked but there seemed to be no visible difference between one side or the other. She ate her treats and begged for more and chewed on both sides. I wiped her jowls periodically and the dripping finally got less and less. By 2 this morning, she wasn’t dripping at all so we went to bed. Today she is perfectly fine, but I want her checked.

Just as my mother used to on the Saturday night before Easter, I’m going to put out the clothes I’ll be wearing tomorrow. I want to make sure they’re wrinkle free. Nothing is new but everything is so seldom worn they do have a newness about them. My dress material is filled with colorful flowers. It is spring personified.

We used to get excited knowing the Easter Bunny was coming, not so much for him as for his treats. It wasn’t the giddy excitement of Christmas Eve when we knew Santa was coming with a bagful of toys just for us. We really didn’t know all that much about the Easter Bunny. We knew he brought baskets filled with candy and small toys, but we didn’t know who helped. Santa had his elves. Who did the Easter Bunny have? We knew Santa summered at the North Pole. I had no idea where the Easter Bunny lived. I guessed a rabbit hole which must have been enormous, but I never really gave it a thought. We didn’t have to be good, no naughty or nice list. There were no threats. We knew Santa wouldn’t come if we were awake or if we were really bad, but the Easter Bunny came regardless. Instead of new pajamas, we got whole new outfits. We never questioned why a rabbit brought eggs or how he hauled all those baskets from house to house. On an Easter card I once received, the Easter Bunny was pulling a wagon filled with colorful eggs. He wore a small jacket with lots of gold buttons but didn’t wear pants. I just took the whole scene for granted. I believed everything about Santa so believing in the Easter Bunny wasn’t a stretch at all.

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“What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.”

April 8, 2014

The morning has already been a full one. I think I’m ready to join Gracie in a morning nap. I had my library board meeting, stops at the pharmacy, Stop and Shop and Ring Brothers, my favorite store for almost anything. I’m shortly going to get into my cozies and while away the day. Right now it’s pouring. It rained during the night, stopped so I could do my errands then started again when I got home. I love rainy days like this one. The house is dark except for the light in this room, my comfort, warm and cozy, a refuge from the rain.

My yard is spring ready. My landscaper and two of his workmen raked the lawn, edged and cleaned the flower beds, blew the debris from my deck and cleared the backyard of all its fallen branches. The lawn also got fertilized. Sebastian, my neighbor and landscaper, wanted it done so the rain would soak the fertilizer into the grass. Once the garden is cleared, I get itching to flower shop, but I know it is way too early. I’ll just have to buy a few pansies for pots on the front steps to hold me in the meanwhile.

My flamingo and my Travelocity gnome winter here in the house. All summer they stay on the deck and enjoy the sunshine. The flamingo dresses for every occasion. Right now he is wearing rabbit ears and a jaunty jacket. The gnome has no wardrobe but is content in his blue coat and conical red hat.

I used to think fireflies were fairies, relatives of Tinker Bell. At night there were so many in the field below my house they seemed to lift the darkness. We’d run and catch them in jars but keep them only a while. They were always one of the best parts of a warm summer night.

Spring and summer are wondrous seasons for me. The world is fresh and new in spring and every flower is welcomed after the drabness of winter. Summer is gardens bursting with color and it is late nights on the deck. I sit in the darkness and watch the fireflies flitting in my backyard among the pine trees, and I still point and yell and watch until they disappear into the next yard.

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“Every spring is the only spring — a perpetual astonishment.”

March 21, 2014

Some days just dawn. They aren’t pretty or warm or filled with blue skies. They’re just another day. Sometimes I have stuff to do, and Gracie and I head out into the world. Other days I have nothing to do so I read or catch up on the programs I DVR’d or I clean a little. Today I swept the kitchen floor and washed the counter while the coffee brewed. I felt accomplished.

Gracie doesn’t seem herself this morning and even turned down her favorite treat. Right now she is sleeping soundly so I hope she’ll be fine. This happens every now and then, but I still worry.

It isn’t much warmer, the grass is still dull and there are only a few flowers, but I see the world differently than I did simply because it’s spring. When I get the papers, I can smell the freshness of the air, and the morning chill feels temporary. The green fronds of the daffodils and the hyacinths now have buds. The garden is coming alive. The sun’s brightness gives hope of warmth and of me sitting on the deck with my face to the sun. I have stopped complaining about the weather.

Yesterday I watched the Red Sox lose to the Yankees. It may be the Grapefruit League and some players we’ll not see this season took the field, but it didn’t matter. It was baseball. The outfield was a lush green. People were sitting on blankets and chairs watching the game from outside the fence. They all wore short-sleeves and hats to keep their eyes shaded from the sun. They are a harbinger of what will come.

Enjoy the sun and the blue sky, the songs of birds and the color returning to the earth.

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