Posted tagged ‘heat’
November 8, 2015
Autumn has returned. The air is chilly. It is 54˚, a seasonal temperature. Last night the wind blew and howled. This morning more branches are bare, their leaves covering the ground and deck. The house was cold when I woke up so I had to turn the heat back on. Gracie and I are going to the dump and Agway then we’ll watch the Patriots.
It is a quiet day both inside and out. Gracie is sleeping and breathing deeply. The keys make noise when I type. Those are the only sounds I can hear. The quiet is a Sunday thing. That’s the way it has always been. I know the stores are all opened, but my neighborhood has no shouts from kids playing in the street and no dogs barking one after the other. Noises like leaf blowers, instead of rakes, and lawn mowers are Saturday things. They were when I was young and still are today. The rest of the days of the week haven’t as much personality as the weekend.
When I was young, I loved nursery rhymes. The way the words fit together and the rhythm appealed to my ears. I always said them sing-songy. We used to tease my brother by calling him Georgie Porgie then we’d run before he could catch us. I used to wonder about the ten o’clock scholar, “A diller, a dollar, A ten o’clock scholar, What makes you come so soon? You used
to come at ten o’clock, And now you come at noon.” How could he be earlier if he came later? I looked this up one time and found out the word ‘diller’ is a Yorkshire term for a boy who is dim-witted and stupid. The ten and twelve o’clock lines are the other students making fun of him. It still doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me.
I don’t know if I have a favorite nursery rhyme as I liked so many of them. I always felt bad for Old Mother Hubbard’s dog, Humpty Dumpty and poor Jack of Jack and Jill fame. I used to wish on the first star, Star Light Star bright, The first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, Have the wish I wish tonight. Actually I often still do. I don’t think many wishes ever came true , but I thought I’d keep giving it a try in case. I liked the days of the week one because I was a Sunday child: But the child that is born on the Sabbath day Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay. Maybe my favorite one is Christmas is coming, the geese are getting fat, Please to put a penny in the old man’s hat; If you haven’t got a penny, a ha’penny will do, If you haven’t got a ha’penny then God bless you!
I accepted this rhyme without too many questions. It was the Christmas is coming which I loved the very thought of. Bob Cratchit and his family ate goose so that was okay with me. I got the penny part and my mother told me a ha’penny was a half penny. I wondered if you had to cut the penny in half. It took a while before I got the answer to that one.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 54˚, autumn, bare branches, cold house, days of the week, Georgie Porgie, heat, Jack and Jill, nursery rhymes, quiet Sunday, Saturday lawn work, ten o'clock scholar
Comments: 12 Comments
October 18, 2015
I can’t put my finger on which one but my wheezing reminds me of sound effects from a movie. They are a bit like metal scraping metal. I’m thinking this cold and being by myself for so long are affecting my brain. Sound effects from Wheezing?
Things are getting better. The cold’s grip is weakening. I only woke up twice last night and managed to sleep 11 interrupted hours. It looks like I have to go out sometime today. I haven’t any bread or soup or anything which tantalizes my taste buds. Sweets keep coming to mind. I’m thinking chocolate chip cookies are a possible remedy. I suspect, though, I’ll probably stay home. It takes far too much energy to get up and out even for chocolate chip cookies. Besides, I think I need a nap.
The day is cold. The sun pops in and out but is merely decorative when it appears. It isn’t warmth. I turned on my heat for one cycle this morning. My bed and comforter are sounding more and more appealing.
Not being around enough people is the reason I’m sick. When I worked, I was around kids with their various ills and ailments. I developed an immunity. I don’t even remember when last I had a cold though this may be a whole different strain of something. I think I caught it during my reunion last weekend. With all those people in one room, someone must have had a germ or two and shared. How kind!
I’m combing the TV for classic horror movies. I’m thinking the Holy Trinity of Frankenstein, Dracula and The Mummy. I’m not including The Wolf Man as I always feel really sad for Larry Talbot. He didn’t deserve his fate.
I watch NCIS even though Abby and her pre-adolescent prattle drive me crazy. Just a while ago I happened on the last 5 minutes of The Brady Bunch and left it on as I wanted to watch what followed it. During those 5 minutes I had an epiphany. Abby based her character on Cindy Brady. They have the same child-like voice, intonations and the same childish indignations. Trust me on this one. The only NCIS mystery left is why the prop guy doesn’t realize we hear the echo of the empty coffee cup when Gibbs puts his coffee on the desk.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Bread, chilly, Chocolate, cold, heat, scraping metal, sick, wheezing
Comments: 11 Comments
October 4, 2015
I am in a funk. I have been struck by malaise. Maybe it’s the rain’s fault. It does get old after 4 or 5 days. Maybe it’s my back which has been hurting and making me grumpy. My plans for the day were to stay home, not get dressed and lie in bed and read. Now I have to go out to get cat food. The only 2 cans left are back-ups, food I bought for them to taste which they hated and left untouched in the dish. Rather than toss the cans, I kept them as an emergency supply hoping hunger would overcome distaste. It didn’t happen so I have to get dressed and go to Agway. I thought I’d take a break today and not write Coffee, but then I got started and just kept going. I guess I need a place where I can whine and complain a bit.
The sun was out this morning for about ten minutes. I got hopeful. Foolish me! The gray, damp day has returned. I suspect we’ll have rain later. I had to run the heat again for one cycle this morning. With the cold, I have to keep the back door shut which complicates Gracie going in and out. I figure I’ll put the storm door in today. That’s a surrender of sorts.
Right now Gracie’s deep breathing, her occasional snores and the tap of the keys are all I can hear. The house is almost eerily quiet.
I have the habit of reading what I write out loud. I have to hear the words. My ears tell me more about the language than my eyes. I make corrections based on the sounds of the connected words and on the choices of words. Sometimes it takes me a while to correct a single sentence until it sounds right. I am now at the read aloud stage. I am done writing.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Agway, back pain, cat food, complain, funk, grouchy, heat, Storm door, surrender, whine
Comments: 10 Comments
October 3, 2015
Much as I appreciate the rain, the darkness worms its way inside sapping my energy, making me sluggish and listless (which can actually be taken a couple of ways as I haven’t a list today. Despite my mood it seems I can still conjure a pun).
This morning the house was so cold I decided to stay in bed and did so for another hour. I read my new book so the hour was not wasted. When I finally came downstairs, I saw 61˚ on the thermostat. I turned on the heat to warm the house. Now it is cozy. All three animals are asleep for their morning naps. Each has her own room: Fern is in the living room, Maddie likes the cushions in the dining room and Gracie takes the couch.
While I was reading this morning, silent reading came to mind. I have no idea why. I haven’t heard or thought about that in years. It used to be a graded subject on my grade school report card. You either got a U or an S. I always got the S for satisfactory though it probably should have meant superb given how many books I sneaked and read during class time. The nuns didn’t teach silent reading as the name said it all so I used to wonder how silent reading was graded. What were the standards? Doesn’t move lips could have been one as moving lips is like talking. Doesn’t shuffle feet or look around could have been a couple more. Maybe posture was part of the grade, but that’s a bit of a stretch. The number of pages wasn’t a fair standard. Not every kid was honest. I really think it was made up so nuns could have a break whenever they needed one. I remember they used to tell us to read silently to ourselves. When I got older, I wondered how you could read silently to someone else, maybe in sign language which none of us knew, but I never dared ask. Nuns could be scary when they were mad.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 61˚, darkness, heat, new book, no energy, rain
Comments: 18 Comments
August 30, 2015
The house feels hot and a bit clammy. The humidity has returned. Gracie just sits in front of me and pants. If I were a dog, I’d do the same thing.
When I was a kid, I was a morning cocoa drinker. Two of my siblings were tea drinkers. My mother would put a nice tea pot on the table rather than putting the teabags in mugs. For my cocoa, she’d mix the powder with some milk, stir it together then add the water. Some mornings she made eggs. Other mornings we had cereal. We always had toast. She sometimes made soft-boiled eggs and put them in yellow, chicken-shaped egg cups. She always lopped off the top of the eggs. I loved how she used to cut the toast. It was the perfect size for dipping into the eggs. Oatmeal was common in the winter, the old-fashioned kind which took some time. My mother kept a good variety of dry cereals, including each of our favorites. I never gave those breakfasts much thought. It never occurred to me how early she had to get up. Not only did she make our breakfasts but also our lunches, great lunches, the envy of our friends. We never said thanks. We finished breakfast, grabbed our lunches, kissed her good-bye and ran out the door. Kids just don’t think sometimes to say thanks for the every day.
There is a slight breeze as I can hear my chimes now and then. The birds are noisy. I don’t hear any people.
I have nothing to do today except maybe the laundry still sitting by the cellar door, but it doesn’t bother me much so it may sit there a while longer. I am not even dressed yet. I don’t care. There is no urgency in putting on clothes. I do love this life of leisure.
Categories: Musings
Tags: cereal, cocoa, egg cups, Eggs, good breakfast, heat, humidity, lunches, school days, tea cocoa, Toast
Comments: 14 Comments
August 17, 2015
Mr. Arbuthnot, an expert weatherman, was interviewed by the Sun Chronicle. His weather report is as follows: “It may become “steamy,” “sultry” and even “stifling,” but never “hot.” The temperature will soar, of course. It will set records. it will be a record-breaking heat wave. The average person will swelter, of course. Hence the phrase “sweltering temperatures.” They will also roast, broil, fry and steam. They may also sweat it out, but not in polite company. These people will seek relief by flocking, en masse to the beach, to the lakeside or to neighborhood pools. The roads to these places will be jammed, moving at a crawl and populated by exasperated motorists. For those who can’t escape, they will beat the heat by not going outside which will cause utilities to be strained, overloaded and working to capacity. This will cause scattered outages, perhaps, or possibly rolling blackouts.The heat wave will finally break thanks to pop-up thunderstorms and scattered thunder showers. Mr Arbuthnot’s final words to his audience, ‘It’s not the heat. It’s the humidity.'”
I figure you’ve guessed today is cliché day which reminds me of the best principal I ever worked with. His only imperfection was his reliance on clichés. I used to keep count whenever he spoke to the staff and sometimes he reached double digits. My mother always used to say someone had a tough row to hoe. When I was young, I had no idea what she was talking about. Why would anyone hoe a row? He’s a good egg was one my father often used. I knew my dad was complimenting whomever, but why a good egg was what I wondered. When I cracked open my first bad egg in Ghana, I totally understood. What I don’t get still though is why the farm metaphors.
Animals seem to be cliché targets. I’m guessing it is because they can’t complain. Somebody works like a dog, goes on wild goose chases, plays when the cat’s away, does something whole hog, waits until the cows come home, is stubborn as a mule and strong as an ox. My favorite is the straw which broke the camel’s back.
I slept like a log last night after burning the midnight oil. I woke up fresh as a daisy and happy as a clam. With the AC on, I am in the lap of luxury; however, today I turned older than dirt!
Categories: Musings
Tags: " "sultry" and even "stifling, " but never "hot.", "steamy, cliche day, flocking, good egg, heat, tough row to hoe
Comments: 24 Comments
July 31, 2015
And the heat goes on! Today is just a bit better than yesterday, and tonight is supposed to be cool. We did have some rain last night around 11:30. I don’t know how long it lasted. I know it was small rain as I was outside on the deck watching Gracie and barely got wet.
A large fly was inside the house yesterday. I hate flies. I suspect this one was logy from the cold because when it landed I was able to sneak attack and whack it with my hand. No more fly!
I wish I could describe the excitement I had when I was flying over the Sahara on my way to Ghana. It was like seeing my geography book come alive. I almost couldn’t believe it was the Sahara below the plane. It seemed more like a dream. Seeing it got me even more excited because it meant we were getting closer to Ghana. I had no idea what to expect from Ghana. The books I read had described the country, but then it was my imagination, my mind’s eye, which conjured the way I thought it might look. Exotic came to mind. A place different in every way from the familiar was the overwhelming thought. In many ways I wasn’t wrong.
The first few days were filled with eye-opening sights. The compounds, not houses but compounds, had tin roofs rusted by the rain. My whiteness was an attraction. Everywhere I went a parade followed. I met a chief, a real African chief. All the sights, sounds and smells overwhelmed me. I couldn’t process fast enough. I almost needed to pinch myself. I was really in Africa.
One of the first lessons I learned in Ghana was not to have expectations but rather to take everything as it came. I didn’t grouse about what I didn’t have. That was the key to living happily. I didn’t like the flies and I wasn’t thrilled about peeing in a hole, but they were part of life for me. I swatted the flies and aimed well at the hole. I came to love Ghanaian food and wore dresses of Ghanaian cloth. My sandals had soles made of tire rubber by the man in the market, sort of an outdoor cobbler. I rode in crowded lorries and buses and ate food sold along the roadside. I never gave any of it a second thought. I was home.
Sometimes even now I am amazed I went to Africa. I can’t remember what made me at twenty-one willing to go, to leave everyone and everything behind me. Whatever it was, I am forever thankful.
Categories: Musings
Tags: African chief, compounds, desert, expectations, flies, Ghana, heat, humidity, Sahara, sights, unfamiliar, whiteness
Comments: 2 Comments
July 20, 2015
The rain never materialized. It will be sunny all week and today will hit 85˚. My AC has been cranking since yesterday morning, and the house is delightfully cool. I have errands today so I will appreciate it even more when I get home.
I have always believed in magic, not the rabbit in the hat magic but everyday magic like when you wish on the first star: I wish I may I wish I might have this wish come true tonight. I have never made outlandish wishes figuring the simpler the wish the more likely it might come true. At Christmas when I was young I made all sorts of wishes and most of those came true.
I have proof that magic abounds and wishes do come true. Once I was walking home from my aunt’s house. The route was through the brush beside a metal fence which joined another fence, a shorter fence. It was there I usually scaled the two fences to get to my street. I stopped to rest just before scaling. I mused while sitting and wished I had money enough for a new book. I swear I looked down and found a 50 cent piece, just enough for a new book. That had to be magic. I wasn’t on a path. I was walking in piles of dead leaves captured against the fence.
But I’ve always known, fifty cents or no fifty cents, that we live in a world filled with magic. Fireflies dot the darkness with light. The sun rises and sets in a brilliance of colors. Rainbows announce the end of the storm and the whereabouts of the pot of gold if you’re especially lucky. I sit outside in the wee hours to watch the meteor showers in August. I clap and say things like wow and amazing as those beautiful streaks of light cross the dark sky. I love shadows and how scary and tall they can look. That flowers bloom year after year can be nothing short of magic. I know science explains most things because some people need answers. As for me, I’ve known the answer all my life-it’s magic, pure and simple magic.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 85˚, a world of magic, Accra, coolness, fireflies, heat, magic, making wishes, meteors, sun
Comments: 8 Comments
June 8, 2015
This morning is one of those the house is colder than outside mornings. I went to my neighbors for our usual Monday language lesson wearing a sweatshirt. The day is so warm the sweatshirt came off and we sat outside in the sun. A wonderfully cooling breeze is blowing. It’s a pretty day.
I am still amazed by Cape Cod. In the warm days of late spring, the wild roses in whites and reds are everywhere. They grow on the edges of fields and woods and in front of old captains’ houses. I have one which has grown up the trunk of a tall tree. My wild rose bushes have no shape but grow willy nilly, wild and tall.
The cape has several old seafarers’ houses each marked with a plaque in front with a clipper ship and a date on it. Those captains’ houses are mostly half capes with sloping roofs. Their shingles are gray and weathered by years of wind and salt.
The early morning air sometimes smells of the ocean even this far away. On those mornings, I linger on the deck. When I cross the bridge over the river on a morning errand, I sometimes see fog spread across the water and quahoggers outlined in the mist.
The warmth of June has brought gardens filled with color. Short white picket fences stand behind them like sentinels. Some houses have carefully tended lawns while there are others with shards of shells in front mimicking a lawn. Pine needles spread across the front yards are lawn stand-ins especially at seasonal rentals. It seems we always have a breeze, mostly from the south. The nights are beautiful, bright and starlit. They perfectly complement the loveliness of the days. I always think how lucky I am to live here.
I remember spring when I was a kid and shedding my winter coat and riding on my bike to school, but it is always summer I remember the best in my hometown. The heat seemed to rise from the roads and the sidewalks. It rose in waves, and I swear I could see it though now I expect I saw a mirage. Summer days were never quiet. The insects made the most noise. Kids were always outside. The degree of heat dictated the amount of activity. Really hot days meant sitting under a tree in the only shade around. Cooler days meant bikes and roller skates and games of tag. My mother always kept a cold drink in her aluminum pitcher in the fridge. Dinner was light on those hot nights. We even could keep playing after dinner. Street lights were no longer alerts to go home. Late June and the coming of summer were celebrations when I was a kid.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bike riding and roller skating, celebration, cooler days, games of tag, heat, insects, lovely morning, mirages, noisy summer days, picket fences, pine needles, pitcher made of aluminum, playing after dinner, shady trees, shell shards, sidewalks and roads, spring and summer
Comments: 8 Comments
October 6, 2014
When I woke up, the house was so cold I jumped right back into bed and nestled under the covers. I stayed there a while and finished my book. Gracie and Fern were with me. Gracie was sleeping in a tight ball, not her usual sprawl. Fern was right beside me. When I finally came downstairs, I saw the house was only 63˚. I turned on the heat. The house is now a cozy 68˚.
The sun is bright again. Outside is even warmer than inside. While the coffee was brewing, I watched the birds through the kitchen window. The feeders are getting heavy traffic. I filled them yesterday with the last of the seed, both sunflower and the mixed seeds and nuts, and they won’t last long. I’ll do a seed run tomorrow.
I wanted to fly like Superman. I still do, but now I want to fly to different places in the world just for a short visit, maybe even just for lunch or dinner. How cool that would be. I’d go to all my favorite places like Quito or Lisbon, maybe do a bit of shopping then have a wonderful dinner before I fly home. You know I’d visit Ghana and surprise everyone. The only problem is some Ghanaians would think I was a witch popping in and out like that. I’d have to be careful picking my landing spots. I wouldn’t need the outfit. The frightened reactions of Ghanaians seeing a white witch fall out of the sky would be exacerbated by me wearing tights, a giant K on my chest and a fluttering cape. I figure Superman did it for effect. I want to be sub rosa.
I suppose I could be Samantha. It would be so much easier just wiggling my nose.
Categories: Musings
Tags: birds at the feeder, cold morning, finsishig my book, flying all over the world, flying like Superman, heat, sunny day
Comments: 18 Comments
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