Posted tagged ‘Gracie’

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“Seeing a murder on television can help work off one’s antagonisms. And if you haven’t any antagonisms, the commercials will give you some.”

August 12, 2012

The rain continues and another movie night is postponed. Today, at least, is a bit cooler than it’s been so the air is off and the door and windows are opened. Gracie is enjoying the freedom of having access to her dog door without ringing her poochie bells.

I think I watch too much HGTV. Right now a movie is on, and when the victim’s house was shown from the street, I thought craftsman.

I love mac and cheese but I can never replicate the recipe because I use whatever cheese is left in the house. One mac and cheese I remember as the best I ever tasted, but I have no idea what was in it. It’s the same with my meatloaf. Added to the meat is salsa, leftover vegetables and anything else I find in the fridge. Seldom am I disappointed by the taste.

I have a hierarchy of commercials I hate. Topping the list are commercials with talking things, personified things. I just watched a wart taunt, and it wasn’t pretty. Tires brag, Pam and non-Pam muffins harass each other and bugs party. Second on the commercials I detest list are those filled with product icons. Some not only talk but also sing and dance. I remember the Kool-Aid Man with the red Kool-Aid. He was everywhere: racing on the beach, rolling logs and saving the day. The Pillsbury Dough Boy stopped being cute pretty quickly. I could put a tiger in my tank or in my cereal bowl, but luckily, now I won’t have to pick as Tony the Tiger won his court case. I did like the way Mr. Peanut looked. He was the perfect gentleman with his top hat, monocle, white gloves, spats and a cane. One of the first I remember is Speedy. Do you remember the capital of North Dakota? Maybe not, but I bet you can sing, “Plop Plop Fizz Fizz OH What a Relief It Is.”

I hate to admit it but some commercials are clever and funny. I’m not talking getting whipped by your spaghetti or by the tag in your underwear. Nope, I’m talking many Bud Lite commercials. I give kudos to those ad-men. The clothing drive ad and the skinny dipping couple are two of my favorite commercials. They are both funny and clever.

I am not a true football fan, but I am a Patriots fan. I watch every game. If they are in the Super Bowl, I’m thrilled to watch it. If they aren’t, I’ll watch the Super Bowl anyway, not for the football but for the commercials. They are usually well worth the wait.

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“Diligence is a good thing, but taking things easy is much more restful”

July 26, 2012

The last few days were lovely, but now the air is thick with humidity. I could feel it as soon I woke up so I closed the upstairs windows, came downstairs, closed the rest of the windows and turned on the AC. I gasped when I went outside to get the papers. Gracie, a bit of a barometer herself, spent little time outside this morning. She came in quickly and collapsed on the couch in the AC. She is now deep asleep and snoring.

The older I get the more my life seems, in different ways, to get easier. When I first lived here, I didn’t even have a fan. When it was really hot, I just slept downstairs with the back door opened all night. When I bought a standing fan, I used it down here and then carried it upstairs so I’d have a breeze all night. I couldn’t sleep without it. It was just too darn hot. Finally I got a window air conditioner for my bedroom. The afternoon sun pours in there, and because it is on the third floor, it stays really hot. I used it at night all summer and many times in the afternoons if the heat felt unbearable. On those afternoons the dog and I would go upstairs in the cool air where I’d stretch out and read. The both of us usually napped. Now I just turn the thermostat and the whole house gets delightfully cool.

My lawn gets mowed every week by my landscaper’s crew. I used to mow it myself on a late afternoon or a Saturday. It is amazing how many chores and errands I used to squeeze in on a weekend when I worked. Now I don’t even enough time over the course of a seven-day week to do everything. I keep telling myself I’ll do it tomorrow. My house gets cleaned every two weeks though I do some spot cleaning in the meantime. I used to clean my house every weekend. The only chore I still consistently do is the washing but no longer do I need to iron a single thing. Wrinkles are perfectly acceptable. I do turn on the dishwasher, but most days I hand wash the few dishes I use. I look out the window as I wash and I do some of my best thinking. Most days I make my bed. It makes my bedroom look neater, but if the cats are sleeping on it, I wait, and if they sleep on the bed all afternoon, I don’t make it at all.

I make no apologies for my sloth. I earned the right to do nothing after all those years of working and getting up at 5 in the morning. My new motto is whatever makes my life easier is just fine with me.

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“I’ve long believed that good food, good eating, is all about risk. Whether we’re talking about unpasteurized Stilton, raw oysters or working for organized crime ‘associates,’ food, for me, has always been an adventure”

July 22, 2012

 

Another beautiful day today: it’s cool and sunny and bright. I was up early and even had time for a dump run before I went out to breakfast. I need to do a few errands later as it is movie night, and we’re out of malted milk balls. They are essential for movie viewing. We’re going to watch the one we didn’t see last week: The Night of the Hunter.

It is so quiet today. I don’t know where everyone has gone. I don’t hear a single kid or even a barking dog. Gracie just came inside the house. I think it must be morning nap time. Fern is already asleep in the sun from the front door. She is stretched out in the way only cats can stretch. I don’t know where Maddie is, but I suspect she’s on my bed. That is her favorite nap place.

My breakfast spot is busy every Sunday. All the breakfast spots are busy every summer Sunday. I go early to snag a booth as my friend doesn’t believe in waiting. She’d drive right through at the sight of a line. Today for breakfast I had dropped eggs on toast as my mother always called them. I didn’t learn until I was older they’re called poached eggs, but I still prefer calling them dropped eggs. It is far more descriptive and leaves no doubt as to how the eggs will arrive.

Other than in England and Ireland, my father hated breakfast in Europe. He thought cold cuts and cheese were lunch, never breakfast. I remember once in the Netherlands when an egg arrived in an egg cup. My father’s delight was evident in his smile and he immediately went for the egg. He tapped it with his knife the way he always did when served a boiled egg. Nothing happened so he tapped it again. Nothing happened the second time either. My father picked up the egg and tapped it on the table. That was when he found out it was hard-boiled. He put it on the table and never touched it again.

On many of my trips I had no idea what I was eating. I didn’t know the language so I couldn’t read the menus or the signs. Sometimes I had a book of English to whatever language, but usually I didn’t carry one as it was just extra weight in my back pack. I pointed and hoped for the best. Luckily I don’t remember ever hating what was placed in front of me. I also think not only probably had its advantages.

 

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“Every parting gives a foretaste of death, every reunion a hint of the resurrection.”

July 19, 2012

Late yesterday afternoon, the thunder and lightning were spectacular. I stood at the front door and watched. The house shook a couple of times and I could hear the rumbling all around me. The rain came down hard but didn’t last as long I’d hoped. What it did do, however, was even better. It took all the humidity with it and left us with a much cooler evening. I turned off the AC and opened all the windows and the two doors. It was easy to fall asleep.

This morning dawned cool and cloudy. Gracie is loving having the back door open as she has access to her dog door and can come and go as she pleases. She’s been outside all morning. I even joined her for a while. From the open windows, I can hear the world for the first time in days. Gone is the solitude. Some kid is screaming, and the renters next door are having a conversation. Dogs are barking, and I can hear the click of Gracie’s collar as she runs around the yard. She joins the chorus of barkers every now and then to let them know she’s here.

Yesterday I got a call from Texas, from a Ghanaian living there now who attended Women’s Training College in Bolga. She started there the year after I had left so we were never acquainted. Assan got my number when she went back to Bolga and thought she’d connect. It was a wonderful conversation. She knows many of my former students who were her seniors. She explained the reason she called was to apologize about missing the big reunion late this summer. I didn’t even know there was going to be one. It seems the students I met last year have been rallying the troops to come this summer to Bolga while I’ll be there. They’re hoping to have a huge party. I think it’s wonderful.

Grace called me from Ghana yesterday, and she sang Leaving on a Jet Plane, Miss Ryan’s song. She told me she was counting the days until my arrival and can hardly wait. She’ll come north with me and we’ll do a bit of touring as I hope to make a few stops in the Volta Region, places I have wanted to see like the Volta Lake, the dam and the monkey sanctuary. She’ll also stay with Francisca and me in the village.

My passport came back yesterday with my Ghanaian visa. I got one for multiple re-entries which is good for two years so this time so it won’t expire before I leave the way it did last year. The trip is more than a month away, but I am really getting excited to go. This time I know I’ll see my students and I’ll get to live in the village. Even better, we’ll party!

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What’s right is beautiful: what’s beautiful breeds joy: what breeds joy is goodness.”

June 29, 2012

I can feel the warmth coming. It’s that sort of a morning, a morning still and dark, a humid morning. Sounds seem louder: a dog barking from down the street, cars going by the house and the clicking of Gracie’s collar when she runs around the yard. Every now and then she comes into the house usually panting from her run. Gracie just wants a pat and the assurance I’m still here then she goes back outside.

Tonight is a play and that’s it for my weekend dance card, but I’m just fine with indolence. I figure the deck is as fine a place as any to spend my time.

I seldom watch TV in the daytime, but today I made an exception. The Brink’s Job is offered On Demand. I love that movie because it takes place in Boston and a couple of scenes are in the town where I grew up. They chose it because the uptown was frozen in time, a perfect 50’s time. Since then, however, uptown has changed, but in the movie I get to see my town, the one I remember from my childhood.

I need to get a couple of passport pictures so I can send for my Ghanaian visa. Last year the visa ran out before I left, but, just as I expected, no one noticed when I was leaving. Ghana takes a lackadaisical approach to both entires and departures. No one checked my yellow shot record when I arrived, and they took only a cursory look at my passport. All of that reminded me of a re-entry when I was in the Peace Corps and returning to Ghana after traveling. I was at Kotoka International and was denied re-entry despite my resident’s visa and my re-entry permit. A cholera epidemic had started while I was gone and without a shot I couldn’t enter. I explained I wasn’t a casual visitor: I lived in Ghana and wanted to go home. No was the answer. I then asked the official if he’d let me in if I raised my right hand and swore to God to get a shot. He said yes so I swore to get a shot and off I went right to Peace Corps where I got the shot just as I promised.

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“All will come out in the washing.”

June 26, 2012

Last night I woke up to thunder and lightning, and I was so glad I did. I’d have hated to miss that storm as I’ve been hoping for such a boomer with all its sight and sound effects. My room lit up several times. The animals didn’t even move; Fern and Gracie stayed asleep on my bed while I enjoyed the display. Today is damp and cloudy, leftovers from yesterday and last night’s rain. The morning is cool the way damp mornings always are, even in summer. On one hand I really like a cool day but on the other I don’t because a day like today removes any and all excuses about doing chores. I can’t say the heat is too much so I’m stuck doing what I’ve put off for a few days. The first wash, all the dog’s blankets and stuff, is already in the machine. The kitchen floor has been swept, and I used my foot to swab the kitchen tiles with a Lysol wet cloth. When the dog wash is done, I’ll bring down one of the storm doors then I’ll bring the other when my washing is ready for the dryer. I feel like I should be wearing a t-shirt which says I am crazy for cleaning, and I mean that in a couple of ways.

I put off doing laundry because I hate to fold it after it dries, and I hate hauling it up two flights of stairs. Usually I leave the clean laundry sitting in the dryer wrinkling away until I need to do another wash or I’m just about out of clean underwear. I guess I shouldn’t complain as I remember my mother doing a load of wash just about every day, and she had a wringer machine when I was a kid and no dryer. Our cellar back then had two huge, deep sinks at one end, and the washing machine water flowed into one of them. I remember watching my mother push clothes through the wringer then catch them on the other side. When I see a pasta machine being used, I’m reminded somehow of that wringer.

Well, the machine just beeped so I need to move the clothes to the dryer. Is a woman’s work never done?

 

 

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If you think dogs can’t count, try putting three dog biscuits in your pocket and then giving Fido only two of them.

June 25, 2012

My PC has gone to PC hell so I’ve disconnected its lifelines and will haul it to my computer guru today. I’m thinking it needs a new hard drive. Luckily, all my music, pictures and a variety of files were backed-up. I learned that lesson before this.

Today is a delight with a cool breeze and little humidity, but that’s supposed to change. Last night the weatherman said showers. I’m hoping he’s right.

The outside will get my attention today. I have a new holder for bird feeders which goes into the ground and has a squirrel baffle on the rod. The spawn of Satan will try to climb and the baffle will slide him right back down again. I figure it will be fun to watch! Nothing better than a frustrated spawn. The rod had six hooks so I’ll pick up a hanging plant or two. Another chore is the front garden where I noticed some flowers are picnic food for the bugs so they need to be sprayed. I’m thinking any excuse to stay outside today!

Last night I had dinner at my friends’ house. Tony barbecued burgers for us and two small burgers: one for Darci, my friends’ dog, and one for Gracie. When I got home, I gave Gracie half and left the rest in the bag on the counter. It disappeared, but this morning I saw the empty bag in the backyard. It seems Gracie is a counter surfer!

My dog Duke, the Boxer I had when I was growing up, was a great counter surfer. Nothing was safe. Once he grabbed the Sunday roast, and my brother and I had to pry his mouth open to save the meat. That was when I learned that tooth marks can be pressed out of uncooked roasts. My Shauna, also a Boxer, was a wonderful counter surfer. She could reach all the way to the wall. One time she stole a cake cooling on the counter and ate half of it so I had to hurry out and buy dessert as half a cake wouldn’t do. Shauna was also a trash bag mauler. If I left the bag on the kitchen floor, Shauna could break any world’s record in opening the bag and taking any food. I’d find trash on my bed because she used to haul it upstairs for reasons I never fathomed. Gracie, who has access to the outside through her door, takes the trash out if she’s been bag surfing. Every now and then I go out and collect her trash. I always feel a bit like her maid.

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“No day is so bad it can’t be fixed with a nap.”

June 18, 2012

Okay, today is like yesterday which is like the day before. It is cloudy and cool. Gracie woke me up at eight which to me was the middle of the night as I didn’t go to bed until after two. She was barking loud enough to wake the neighbors so I went downstairs where she was standing by the front door. I opened it, but nothing was there. I let her out back into the yard, and there was a dog outside the fence who started barking at Gracie who then tried to jump the six foot fence to get at the interloper. Gracie was as fierce as I’d ever heard her, and she managed to get her front paws on the top of the fence but, luckily, never made it over. When she came on the deck to get a better look, I grabbed her and brought her inside. The dog took off through the yard behind mine. I kept Gracie in the house, drank my morning coffee and read the papers. When I finished, I started my morning chores. I went upstairs and changed the cat litter then was going to change the bed before my shower, but I decided the bed looked inviting, and I was tired so I went back to sleep for another two hours.  I just woke up.

I like naps. Even when I was in college, I took naps so age is not a factor. My father was a napper so I am from a line of nappers. My favorites are winter naps in the cold darkness of the late afternoon while I’m snuggled under the down comforter with the animals beside me keeping me even warmer. Rainy day naps are a close second, and I love to fall asleep to the rhythmic sounds of drops falling on the  overhang below the roof right outside my window. My friend Jay calls it his nippy nap. I always liked that. His wife is not a napper, but she understands naps. My sisters, who are also not nappers, don’t understand the lure of the nap. My mother never did either, but my father did.

I have no agenda for the day other than finish those chores and do a laundry then I’m going to read for the rest of the afternoon. I think it sounds like a wonderful day!

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“Rarely does one see a squirrel tremble.”

June 15, 2012

Cue the trumpets! It was coffee and the papers on the deck this morning for the first time this season, and the sun was so bright I felt like the Mad Hatter moving from chair to chair to avoid the glare. Gracie came with me and she found the shade. While there, I noticed the deck needs some more sweeping because of the rain storms, and I’ll do that later as I intend to spend most of the day there with book (disguised as my iPad) in hand.

Tonight is the first play of the season, and it is at the Cape Playhouse. The Hound of the Baskervilles is the play, but, according to the review, it,” … is absurd. Ridiculous. Overblown,” but then the critic goes on to say, ” But please, please don’t let that stop you, because those are exactly the things that make it an extremely successful, albeit odd, twist on the old Sherlock Holmes yarn.” I am curious and a bit uneasy. I always think of Sherlock Holmes as a character with whom you don’t meddle, but I will reserve judgment until I see the play.

I woke up when it was almost light, and I heard the chorus of birds greeting the new day. The air was filled with bird songs, and I stayed awake a while to listen. It is a perfect way to start the day, with a joyous sound. I fell asleep again but I think I might have been smiling.

The gray spawns of Satan have not been around. It seems they have been replaced by the evil red spawns who have been known to attack their grey cousins. The red spawns are small enough to fit in between the wires of the squirrel proof feeders, and when I see them at those feeders, I run out to the deck like a screaming mad woman. Well, actually, I am a screaming mad woman with mad having all sorts of connotations. Maybe, once the deck season starts in earnest, the spawns will stay away. I can only hope, but if that doesn’t work, I’m thinking a weapon might be what I need. Maybe I’ll try a potato gun. They can always eat the ammo.

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“I refuse to believe that trading recipes is silly. Tuna fish casserole is at least as real as corporate stock.”

June 4, 2012

Third day in a row of rain and that damp cold. It is only 52° right now, and there is a wind which makes it feel colder. Last night was a snuggle under the blanket night as I had my bedroom window open. Fern and Gracie were huddled beside me for the warmth.

Dinner was a smashing success. The curry was perfect. It had enough heat to make it interesting, and the taste of the fruit and the curry together was like a rainbow of colors bursting in your mouth. The coconut ice cream and the chocolate sea salt caramel was a perfect ending to the meal. The sauce was extraordinary and the salt gave it the most amazingly wonderful flavor. The talking stopped when the dessert eating began. I prepared the appetizers and the chicken and spices then John and Michelle came and John took over with the chopping and the sauce making. I loved it. I got to sit and enjoy my company. Michelle and I sat in the dining room so we could keep John company while he minced and chopped. After dinner, my guests cleaned up. That was wonderful and I was profusely thankful. I am always exhausted after cooking for hours and then having to clean up, usually by myself. All that’s left is to put away the dishes!

It was so wonderful having Michelle and John here. She got to put faces to names and see the house. Michelle is a Coffee reader so she knew my friends and had a picture in her head of what my house must look like based on what she has been reading. Michelle took lots of pictures. My friends easily took to Michelle and John. It boggles my mind that Michelle and I first met in 1969, and when we see each other, our friendship never skips a beat. I love John and I love his patience with Michelle and me when we reminisce. Their visit was all too short but they’re off for the rest of their vacation, three more weeks on the road. They’ll make Bangor today.

I’m going to take it easy today and finish reading the Sunday papers I didn’t get to read between watching the flotilla and making the dinner preparations.

I’m back! My electricity went off, and I wondered if a giant rat had eaten all my wires, but I used my cell and called my friend down the street. He had none either. I could rest easily!

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