Posted tagged ‘football Patriots’

“Conversation should touch everything, but should concentrate itself on nothing.”

November 16, 2012

Today is the same as yesterday: cloudy and damp. I have no place I need to go so I’m staying home and finishing my book. I will loll about and eat bonbons.

The grocery shopping is done. I maneuvered around the carts in the middle of the aisle, waited at the register while the man in front of me chatted with the cashier after he had already paid and then I hauled almost everything into the house. This morning I brought in the rest: a carton of Diet Coke, some cat litter and laundry detergent. It seems strange to open the fridge and see it filled.

Sad news: Hostess is closing up shop. No more Hostess cupcakes or Ding Dongs, the treats of my childhood. I still remember the thrill and surprise when I’d open my lunch box and find a package of Hostess cupcakes for dessert. I always used the same method to eat them. First I’d peel off the frosting then I’d eat the cupcake and work my way to the cream center. When I was finished with the cream, I’d eat the frosting, the chocolate frosting with the white swirl across the middle. I loved those cupcakes. Hostess will sell its wares until they’re gone and will make no more. The cupcakes will go the way of Hydrox, Bolster Bars and all the candy made by Schrafft’s.

In the paper this morning, the news was, as usual, dreary. I was surprised to read that Mr. Romney had shot himself in the foot again as I didn’t think he had any parts of his feet left to shoot. It’s the if man bites dog aphorism that defines what gets printed. Don’t look for good news, but when I got to the sports page, I had my only laugh. Coach Belichick of the Patriots was his usual chatty self at a press conference. When asked about expectations for the new player, Talib, who’s just coming off a drug suspension, Belichick, a noted oratorian, answered, ” Any player that we bring here, we feel confident in bringing here or we wouldn’t bring him here.” Talib said he and his new coach had not discussed off-field problems, “We kind of just talked straight football. He didn’t bring up the past. I didn’t bring up the past. He didn’t bring up the future. I didn’t bring up the future.” That must have been one heck of a conversation!

“It looks like something out of Whittier’s “Snowbound,”‘ Julia said. Julia could always think of things like that to say.”

January 22, 2012

About 8 or 9 inches of snow fell yesterday. The stuff is pretty, no question about it, but pretty never lasts long enough. I got plowed out last night by my factotum but a bit more fell, mostly from the ocean effect, but because it was warmer earlier this morning, the new snow melted off the walkway, the car windshield and the roof. Icicles now hang off the roof edge. They look like teeth needing orthodontia. It’s cold, only 31°, and the sky is gray cloudy.

I’ll watch the Pats play the Ravens this afternoon. If I had tickets to the game, I’d probably give them away. I can’t imagine sitting in the stands and freezing. A warm living room, good food and a close bathroom are far more important to me. I doubt there would be enough layers to keep me warm.

Gracie’s friend Cody dropped by to visit late yesterday. Both dogs had so much pent-up energy they ran and ran chasing each other. Gracie also did her laps around the perimeter three times in a row. When she came inside, her tongue was hanging to her knees, at least to what I think are her knees.

The cape is pretty flat, but the golf course has one perfect hill for sledding. I’m betting there’s a crowd of kids there now despite the cold. Opportunities to speed down a hill are too rare to pass up. Our old wooden sleds are from a bygone era. Kids now spin their way to the bottom on flying saucers or snow tubes. My old wooden sled is standing outside my front door with skates hanging from the steering. It is one of my winter decorations. I love the way it looks and the memories it brings to mind.

I have to the dump today. On days like today the dump is freezing. The wind rushes furiously across the treeless plain. I always imagine that’s what a gulag must be like.