Posted tagged ‘flowers’

“…at morning, I’m unruffled – I’ll sit with my tea and Muse Cat beside me and listen to the soft chime of the grandfather clock…”

April 22, 2013

The sun streaming through the front door is hot. Fern has taken possession of the rug in front of the door and is, as usual, sprawled in the sun. Maddie and Gracie are here on the couch with me. Gracie is having her morning nap. After all, she has been awake for a couple of hours and must be exhausted. Maddie just wants a few pats.

All of us have morning rituals. Fern and Gracie sleep on my bed so when I wake up, they jump up and wish me a good morning. Gracie wags her tiny Boxer tail so much I expect it to become a rotor and for her tail end to take flight the way a helicopter does. If my morning ever becomes a cartoon, that’s exactly what would happen. Fern rolls all over the bed and sometimes has to grab the sheet or she’d roll right off. I pat her and she bumps me with her head to let me know she expects more. After the morning greetings are done, I feed the cats and Gracie and I go downstairs. Maddie is usually on the table in the sun. She gets her morning pats after which I let Gracie out and put on the coffee then I go outside to get the papers, and most mornings I stop to admire the new flowers. This morning there were two yellow and white daffodils which had just bloomed. After admiring my garden for a while, I go back inside, fill Gracie’s dry food dish so she can munch during the day, leave two biscuits in her crate then grab my coffee and go into the den to read the papers. That is my morning just about every single day except Sunday when I go out to breakfast, the only break in my routine.

Soon enough it will be warm, and I’ll be on the deck with my coffee and papers. Gracie will take her morning nap spread out on the lounge, and I’ll stop and watch the birds at the feeders. Sometimes I bring my laptop outside where I’ll write Coffee.

I love my mornings.

“It is spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart.”

March 26, 2013

The snow never materialized last night but it did sleet then rain for a short while, and the morning still bears the remnants of the storm though storm seems a bit grandiose a description for a bit of rain and sleet. Our familiar gray skies are back, but the sun has been making quick visits then disappearing to wherever it’s been going for what seems like weeks. I watched the bird feeders while my coffee was dripping, and my suet feeder had a huge guest, a flicker. I also noticed the gold finches are getting brighter. The tops of the hyacinths are appearing above their leaves, and there are several daffodil buds. I think we’re in the two steps forward and only one step back part of spring. It makes me hopeful for one really warm day when I can sit on the deck, close my eyes and fall asleep with the sun on my face.

The perfect day when I was about ten was always in the spring. It was warm and sunny but not hot. I’d wear my spring jacket, my favorite of all jackets. It had a front zipper and was pale pink. The first wearing of that jacket was a symbol back then though symbolism was lost on the young me. I just knew I loved my jacket because it was light and pink and had replaced the heavy, dark winter coats and layers we’d worn for months. Wearing it was the acknowledgment the season had finally changed and winter was passed.

On my perfect day, usually a Saturday, I’d go down the cellar and maneuver my bike out the door and up the stairs. That was never easy. The door faced a wall so the angle was all wrong. I had to lift the front wheel in the air to get the back wheel out. Once up the stairs I’d get on my bike, ride across the side lawn and down the grassy hill, a maneuver forbidden by my dad who’d yell later when he saw the tire marks. I’d always get the how many times do I have to tell you lecture, but the little ride was worth it. My dad just didn’t get how neat it was to start my adventure by going down his small hill. From there, I’d sometimes ride down the big hill on which we lived or I’d take the side street and head toward the field with the horses. I remember how bright the sun seemed and how the trees had buds and the grass was finally turning green. I’d see the colors of the spring flowers blooming above the ground. The air smelled fresh and brand new. I always took my time, not wanting to miss a single thing though I’d taken that same route so many times. I remember feeling joyful and as alive as spring as I rode through the small streets.

I have that same feeling every year on the very first warm spring day even without my bike.

“There is no friend as loyal as a book.”

May 25, 2012

Today is cloudy and chilly but the weekend will be spectacular. I suspect the fortuitous weather report will have the cape lined with cars and tourists for the weekend. The water is still too cold for swimming, but the sand and sun will draw the crowds to the beaches. My deck is a mess with pollen and stuff from the trees, but today is cool enough for cleaning and getting ready to spend the next two days outside.

Today is garden shop day. I only need about four or five flowers for the front garden, but I need several for the deck pots. I also need herbs for the garden and for the flower boxes on the deck. The last on my list is one more vegetable for my small raised garden. This is one of my favorite days: when I wander the aisles of the garden shop. All self-restraint seems to disappear. My cart overflows, and I wonder if I’ve bought enough.

I am 100 pages from finishing my book: A Dark Dividing by Sarah Rayne. I started it on Wednesday and have been reading every spare moment since. My errands were more of an annoyance than usual knowing that my book was sitting at home waiting. If today weren’t flower day, I wouldn’t move off the couch until I’d finished. I love finding a book difficult to put down.

When I was really little, my mother read the Golden Books to me. She thought me the smartest of all children because when I was two I could identify all the animals circling the back cover. She told me my favorite story was Chicken Little. I still have a special place in my heart for Henny Penny, and I will always remember Foxy Locky, Goosey Loosey, Turkey Lurkey and Ducky Lucky. They are such wonderful names. It makes me laugh a bit thinking about my favorite childhood book and how the main character thinks the sky is falling. It is no wonder I have always loved science fiction. That Foxy Locky eats most of the characters seems a bit chilling, but I guess it never scared me as Henny Penny, my heroine, runs away safely.

My mother read Treasure Island to my brother and me, a bit of it every night before bed. It made bedtime palatable knowing I’d be following Jim and Long John Silver on their voyage. I still love that book, and I’m still pained by Long John’s treachery.

When I taught English, some kids took pride in saying they’d never read a book. Others told me my course books were the first they’d ever finished. It saddened me that these kids had never entered the amazing world of books, but once, many, many years later, a former student stopped me and said thanks. He told me he had read all of the books in my science fiction course and hadn’t stopped reading since. That was about my biggest accomplishment: helping make a student a reader.

“Don’t let schooling interfere with your education.”

March 12, 2012

The day is glorious. I have been outside sitting and reading the paper in the sun. Begrudgingly I came inside to write Coffee and hope for a quick inspiration so I can go back outside. Gracie has been in the yard all morning. This is her lie in the sun on the grass and take a nap sort of weather. Ah, the life of a pampered pet!

I know exactly why it is called a spring in your step, and I think it’s a metaphor having nothing to do with the verb spring. Today I feel more alive than I have. Today is warm and sunny and the sort of day which makes the heart sing. It is a hopeful day as spring always bring hope and a new beginning.

My garden is filled with shoots, and the first crocus is in bloom. It’s yellow. I can also see the knobs on the top of the hyacinth and two daffodils are tall and heavy with buds. The air smells sweet.

I used to love to walk to school on days like today. I’d shed my winter coat and mittens and wear only a sweater under my spring jacket. My friends and I always took our time walking when the weather was this beautiful as we knew we’d spend most of the day locked in and sitting at our desks. I used to look longingly out the windows and wish I were outside in the  sun. It seemed such a waste to be learning fractions when I could be running in the field with the warm sun on my face. Recess made it even nore difficult to go back into the building.

When I was in the 8th grade, I used to hide my lunch bag, no more lunch boxes at the sophisticated age of  thirteen, and I’d leave as if I were going home for lunch. My friend Jimmy, always a co-conspirator, came with me. We’d find a bench in the sun up the street near the town hall and eat lunch then we’d go back to school. Sometimes we were really late returning, long after the bell, and we’d tell Sister Hildergarde we were at the library or talking to some priest or other. She always nodded, and we’d take our seats. On a few really beautiful spring days we’d leave early telling some story about where we were going which Sister Hildergarde always bought. We were a clever pair, Jimmy and I, and maybe even a bit devious.

“I ain’t ever had a job, I just always played baseball.”

February 21, 2012

In the Globe this morning was an article about people buying fertilizer and loam for their lawns. The author likened our current weather to that of Washington DC around this time of year. He said we are about two months ahead of our usual growth schedule. I can attest to that. The rhododendron in my front garden has buds. All over the rest of the garden are green shoots from the bulbs I planted last fall. The nights get chilly but the days are warm, in the 40’s, and tomorrow will be in the 50’s, but I’m not quite taken in by this quirky weather. Being a New Englander, I’m skeptical. I expect snow is probably right around the corner just waiting to catch us. I just can’t shake it.

The sports’ pages are more interesting since baseball’s spring training started. This morning I got a chuckle. Bobby Valentine, the new coach of the Red Sox, has announced that all players will ride the bus to spring training games. All I could think of were bus rides back in my day.

The oldest ruled the back of the bus, the elite section, first class. I pictured Youkalis and Ortiz sitting there, the only two players left from the 2004 team. Pedroia by virtue of his talent and work ethic would also be welcome. He’d be the one shooing away the lesser players. Rookies must sit in front. The rest of the team can sit in the middle seats. We always sang on bus trips so I imagined the Sox belting out the likes of Take Me Out to the Ballgame, Sweet Caroline with all the appropriate responses, Wild Thing and maybe even Shipping Up to Boston even though Papelbon left for the big bucks. Pedey would dance in the aisle and Bobby would have him sit down and behave. Speaking of Bobby, why is it that a grown man is still called Bobby by people other than his family? I guess it’s a sports thing where growing up often optional.

“Dusting is a good example of the futility of trying to put things right. As soon as you dust, the fact of your next dusting has already been established.”

February 9, 2012

On the ground this morning was a dusting of snow. I even hesitate to use dusting to describe that snow, but I don’t know a smaller word for the amount on the ground. When I went to get the papers, the air reminded me of early spring when the mornings are chilly but hint of a warmer day. It is only 39° now but it is supposed to be in the mid-40’s later. I know this is only February, and I know spring is a long way off, but I can’t help but think of spring on a day like today.

More and more shoots are above the ground in my front garden. A seed catalogue comes every day, and I look through it trying to decide what flowers to add to my garden this year. I have a side garden now which runs along the driveway and needs filling. I have a feeling the garden store staff will applaud every time they see me coming. There might even be balloons!

Today is in-house chore day with washing to do, plants to water, my bed to change and a few places which need polishing. The book-case is so disgusting I could write a novel in all the dust. I’d need a clever title or I could just steal Butler’s title The Way of All Flesh.

Somehow or other all of my doctor’s appointments seem to come in the spring. I figure there is some weird connection between them and the rebirth of the Earth.

For years, I made special dinners and invited friends. I usually made something I hadn’t ever made before because I enjoyed hunting through cookbooks, imagining how the foods would fit together and then preparing the dishes. Lately I’ve been saving recipes and thinking about cooking again. I also just bought a new cupcake pan and want to give it a try. I’ve always been a cake person, but I’m willing to branch out to make a few of cake’s smaller relatives.

Well, the dust is calling me and I need to get the wash going. Today is just going to be one of those days. I’ll hate it, but at the end, even all that cleaning will give me a sense of accomplishment.

“Never take a job where winter winds can blow up your pants.”

January 16, 2012

Today is a balmy 27°. Last night went into single digits, but I’m not complaining. This has been too warm a winter to warrant any complaints. Not only that but it’s already mid-January, and we haven’t had any snow. I guess my sled will stay in the cellar for a while longer.

I crave color. The world is just so drab after Christmas. Dead leaves hang on the branches, and the tall brown trunks of pine trees stand silhouetted against a muted blue sky. Here and there people still have Christmas lights lit every night, and I appreciate their gestures. I buy cut flowers for the house around this time of year. Their colors remind me that there will be a spring. I just have to be more patient.

My house is a dust bowl. I think I saw Tom Joad upstairs the other day so I’ve made the committment to dust and polish this room today. It is where I spend the most time so it will get the most attention. I hate to clean. It seems like such a waste of time when I could be reading or doing absolutely nothing. Also, the plants need to be watered. It sounds like a work day to me.

Yesterday afternoon I just couldn’t get warm. I was chilled to the bone. I turned up the heat, but that didn’t help. I added a few layers, a long sleeve shirt under my sweatshirt and a pair of socks over my cozies, but they didn’t help either. A cup of coffee tasted great, but only my hands around the cup got warm for only a short while. I tried to take a nap under the down comforter but still felt chilled so I couldn’t fall asleep. My feet were the worst. They were freezing so put on wool socks. Finally my feet got warm and the warmth spread. I was comfortable all evening and thankful for my wool socks even if they do have a few holes.

Last week was really busy. This week is an empty dance card. I won’t see another person until Thursday for our weekly trivia night. Summer is filled with people and voices and sounds. The winter is silent.

“Silence is a sounding thing, to one who listens hungrily.”

November 20, 2011

This morning was warm, sunny and quiet when I left for breakfast. When I got home, my yardmen were just finishing clearing the pine needles from the front lawn and the oak leaves from the deck and driveway. I could see grass and pavement for the first time in a long while; however, soon after the men left, the wind started again, and the pine needled have begun reclaiming the lawn. Now the clouds have rolled in and the sun has disappeared. The day is much like yesterday, drab.

While I was talking to my sister, I watched out the window at one leaf twirling at the end of an oak branch as the wind was swinging it. The leaf would turn from left to right then back again. I was rooting for that leaf, but the wind was too strong. It took the leaf which drifted to the ground to become one of many in my backyard. I thought about that leaf and realized why I always think of this season as fall.

I buy flowers for my house this time of year. I start to crave color, and flowers always seem to pull me from the grayness of late fall and winter. The flowers I buy tend to yellows and pinks. They are the bright colors, the colors of my summer garden, and they always remind me that winter is but one of four seasons.

The only sound I hear is the deep breathing of Gracie as she naps on the couch.  It will be a quiet day. It is the essense of me today.

“If you’re gonna to use that gun, you better start on me.”

June 4, 2011

The morning is beautiful with a bright sun and a blue sky, but that pesky cool breeze is still with us and will bring the temperature down to the high 40’s tonight. Standing outside in the sun is warm and cozy, but the shade is a might chilly.

When I went to get dog food yesterday, I brought my list of flowers so I could buy a couple more and be finished buying for the season. Well, that was a mistake. I bought one or two of each flower on the list. My trunk was filled and some of the taller plants went in the back seat. I have never heard of most of these flowers. I found their names on line when I read about making a country garden. The author said add herbs so I have some Russian sage and hyssops. I bought blanket flowers and I don’t remember what else, but they are lined up on my walk waiting to be planted later today. When I went to get the papers, I noticed the garden is dry so I hauled out my watering can and watered a few which looked a bit wilted. I’ll have to get my irrigation system turned on as I’d hate to lose any flowers, and the grass too is looking a bit needy.

Matt Dillon died on Friday. I know he was really James Arness, but for years and years he was the marshal of Dodge City, and that’s how I remember him. I can still see in my mind’s eye the opening of Gunsmoke when Matt shoots the bad guy with that long pistol. That was in the heyday of TV westerns. I think we watched one every night. I had some favorites and Maverick topped the list, but the The Wild, Wild West wasn’t far behind.

We sat around the small black and white TV and watched Have Gun Will Travel, Yancy Derringer, Wagon Train, Cheyenne and so many others. I learned what a paladin is by watching TV. I also learned that good guys win though that truth has weakened over time. I, however, still keep hope.