Posted tagged ‘Iced coffee’

“Small children disturb your sleep, big children your life.”

July 11, 2011

For me it’s still early, and I’ve already been busy. First was a blood test which meant no coffee when I woke up-a painful way to start the day. Then I got yelled at to slow down by an elderly lady who had turned the corner halfway into my lane such that I had to stop or be hit. She looked panicked. Next was the pharmacy then Dunkin’ Donut’s where I ordered an iced coffee with equal and cream. She repeated my order: hot, black and medium. Slowly, distinctly and loudly I tried again. I figured take away the loudly and it was like practicing Ghanaian English for my trip. Such was my morning.

It’s a deck day no question about it. I have a few things to do this afternoon, but I’m staying outside and lolling for as long as I can. Today makes me grateful I’m retired.

My house has no shades. I wanted it that way. When I was a kid, my mother put the shades down all over the house on hot summer days. She was trying to keep the house cool, but it was always dark and cave-like to me, cooler definitely but still cave-like. The kitchen was the only room with light because the back door was always open to the screen door. I remember that screen door perfectly and can still see and place it in my mind’s eye. It was wooden and painted dark green. It never shut slowly but always slammed. The screen was one piece and was replaced every fall by the storm door which shut more slowly because of the weight of the glass. We never walked out the screen door; we always ran and it always slammed.

I loved our house in South Yarmouth. It was close to everything, and my brother and I had our own rooms. We were on the first floor while my parents and my sisters were on the second. The house had a dormer added later so the stairs were behind a door and couldn’t be seen from the living room. That also meant my brother and I couldn’t be heard. He sneaked out a lot. I didn’t. Most times, he was lucky enough to get home before my father woke up. Once he didn’t and all hell broke loose. My father yelled at me figuring I was a co-conspirator, but I wasn’t as I had no idea where he’d gone. I only vaguely remembered hearing him leave through his window. I was surprised my father didn’t think to nail his windows shut because in a short while my brother was back to his nighttime escapades.

I always think it interesting the memories we keep.