Posted tagged ‘list of chores’

“Almost anything is edible with a dab of French mustard on it.”

June 17, 2016

Today is beautiful. The breeze is keeping the air cool. The sun is bright and shines with the deep blue sky as its backdrop. When I went for the papers this morning, I checked my front garden. Every day something new is in bloom. Today it was a tall purple flower. I don’t know its name. I never know the names of my flowers. I buy them for color. The purple flower was a wonderful choice.

Today is dump day. I haven’t yet told Gracie. She tends to get a bit excited at the thought of the car ride and the dump. It will be a surprise.

My neighborhood is quiet today. The kids are still in school. Only the songs of birds break the silence.

I have a list for today, but none of the items make for too much effort. I bought a new flag which needs to be put on the flag pole in the front yard, my new hose will be connected to the outside faucet, plants in and out need watering and I have to connect the umbrella to the adaptor. They are all silly tasks but they still need doing.

We have a place to stay in Accra. It is where I stayed in 2011 for a week. The people are wonderful, the rooms big and clean, and they’ll pick us up at the airport. There is even a Lebanese restaurant right down the street. Ghana is where I first tasted Lebanese food. We used to go to a place called Talal’s. It was close to the PC office. I had hummus for the first time there. They served it in a flat dish with hot pepper around the top of the hummus and sesame oil in a well in the middle. I also had falafel, kibbeh and tabbouleh for the first time. I came to love Lebanese food. I had it often. The fact it was a cheap was also a good draw. I still love hot pepper sprinkled on my hummus and sesame oil in the middle. What I miss here is the fresh pita they always served.

One of the best parts of my Peace Corps experience was all the different foods I ate. Chinese food was considered a bit exotic when I was a kid, and I brought that with me to Ghana. The first day there I was served what looked like leaves from the tree and a soup of unknown origins. I didn’t eat it. I ate only breakfast as I recognized eggs and bread. Eventually, though, I started trying the Ghanaian food. Some I came to love, but I never did like kontomire, that soup from the first day. It is made with cocoyam leaves. That I know that makes me chuckle a bit. I went from Chinese food to cocoyam-a huge leap.

“There’s a lot of difference between listening and hearing.”

July 11, 2015

The day is another beauty with sun, a blue sky and no humidity. The house is cool. The weather in the paper said we’d have low 80’s today and mid 60’s tonight, perfect for sleeping. This is summer at its best.

I have lots of household chores today and I have a list. I always have a list. Even when I had a good memory, I had a list. It is in no particular order and nothing is too strenuous. Doing the laundry is the most energy-consuming task.

The Great Whites are back in Chatham. One which was tagged in the past was the first to return. It seems even sharks can’t pass up a free lunch. The seals sunbathe on the rocks unaware of what lurks below the surface where the sharks wait patiently. People are a bit more leery this year given all the attacks off the coast in North Carolina. That they are not our Great Whites is a bit of comfort.

When I was a kid, my life was filled with demands. Brush your teeth. Wash your hands before dinner. Wipe your feet on the outside mat. Hang your coat in the closet, not on the chair. Put your schoolbag away. Go upstairs and change into play clothes. Finish your homework. Don’t sit so close to the TV or you’ll go blind. Leave your sisters alone. Don’t slam the door. Go outside and play until I call you for dinner. Don’t stand looking with the refrigerator door open. No cookies before dinner. Eat all your vegetables. Get ready for bed.

I suppose my mother chatted with us in-between, but I don’t remember. Every day she pretty much made the same demands because we generally ignored them, and none of her demands stuck with us in anticipation of the next day when they began all over again with something about teeth.

I was a master at not hearing my mother. When she spouted her daily demands, the words all ran together, and I understood nothing. It was as if she was speaking in a foreign tongue. I’d nod my head pretending I was listening. When I was reading, I didn’t hear her at all as I was totally immersed in the book. She never really believed me and thought I was ignoring her on purpose. She’d ask if I had heard her, and I’d truthfully answer no. That was the wrong answer. The truth sometimes is.

When I got a bit older, sarcasm just flew out of my mouth unfettered, uncensored. My mother would go wild. I didn’t blame her as I had become a bit of a wise ass.