Posted tagged ‘lists’

“I’ve buried a lot of my laundry in the back yard.”

September 9, 2016

When I got the papers, I noticed the road still wet from my lawn being watered. That screamed humidity to me so I turned on the air conditioning. The weatherman last night did say summer was returning today.

Periodically the AC turns on to break the silence. Gracie isn’t even snoring. Both cats are awake, unusual for the morning. One is cleaning her ears and the other is just looking out the window from her perch, the back couch cushion. I have no idea what holds her attention.

Today I have nothing to do, not a single list. I’m thinking about lolling and reading. Before that, though, I might hit the chocolate shop for bon bons.

Yesterday my list was completed. I even brought my laundry upstairs, a rarity. Usually it sits in the dryer for sometimes as long as a week. I don’t mind doing laundry. It is the up and down the stairs, the folding and the carrying up two flights of stairs which I don’t like. The house we lived in when we first moved to the cape had the washer and dryer in the kitchen because there wasn’t a cellar, just a small dug out area. That made doing laundry easy.  When I worked, I managed to get everything done including planning lessons and correcting.

When I worked, I managed to get everything done, mostly on the weekends when I shopped, mowed the lawn, did laundry and cleaned the house. Now, despite having all the time in the world, I hire people. The house gets cleaned every other Thursday. On the off weeks, I do a bit of dusting, a small bit of dusting, and some vacuuming. My lawn gets mowed every Friday. Peapod delivers groceries right to my kitchen. I order when the larder is empty. Skip, my factotum, does whatever I need, things like opening and closing the deck, painting and general repairs. I know I shouldn’t complain given what little I do, but I want staff, particularly a laundress or a launderer. I did find a drop off Launderette, but I just can’t see myself driving my laundry bag to Hyannis. I guess I’m stuck.

Pride goeth before destruction, And a haughty spirit before a fall.

August 23, 2016

This morning I starred as Sleeping Beauty, but no prince woke me up. I just did. It was 10:15. My mother would have said you probably need the sleep.

Last night we had movie night on the deck. We watched Dick. I had seen it before, but my friends hadn’t. I was glad they enjoyed it. We sat and ate appetizers while we played Phase 10. I lost. It was then movie time. We ate dinner while we watched. It was hot dogs and salad, a perfect summer meal. The night quickly got windy and chilly. I actually had to wear a sweatshirt. The screen fell down blown by the wind. It was undamaged.

Last night’s weather morphed into a beautiful day. It is in the 70’s and dry. I’m thinking deck time.

I totally lack ambition. I’m guessing I used all of my weekly allotment yesterday and last night. Being the consummate hostess takes energy and a lot of lists.

I’m not a fan of commercials, but I figure they are the price to pay for watching network television. One commercial, however, drives me crazy. It is for Dole fruit bowls. Two couples are at a picnic table after playing tennis. One couple stabs the tops of their fruit bowls then drains the liquid. The woman from the other couple looks at them with pure disdain and says, “Oh, they’re drainers.” She explains why she and her husband don’t drain. “We drink it,” she says with a haughty, superior look. That’s when I’d have thrown my drained sugary fruit cup in her face.

“Cleanliness is not next to godliness. It isn’t even in the same neighborhood. No one has ever gotten a religious experience out of removing burned-on cheese from the grill of the toaster oven.”

October 1, 2015

My mother would have called it a deluge. The rain all day yesterday was so heavy it was deafening. The wind came later and then the night got cold. Today is dark, damp and cold. The rain will be back, if not tonight, definitely tomorrow.

When I let Gracie out this morning, I noticed a few yellow leaves on the tree near the driveway. They weren’t there two days ago. I think yesterday’s weather shocked the leaves into changing color. I checked out the rest of the yard and saw more yellow here and there. We now have real fall weather, no more 70’s. It will be in the 50’s the rest of the week.

I keep my outside sandals by the clothes tree in the living room. Around the house I wear flip-flops. Before I go out, I switch from one to the other. Today my feet are cold so I think it’s time to hunt down my slippers and my outside shoes. The sandals will be moved to their winter home, the closet. It’s a sad day.

I have a list of all the chores that need to be done, the ones I’ve ignored for a while. My book got in the way and then I got two new books and started one of them. I have no guilt over being a sloth, but the list seems to get longer and longer so I’m working on crossing off chores one by one. I’ve already cleaned the litter and brought the trash to the car. I have laundry to bring upstairs to put away and I need to change my bed. Once that’s done Gracie and I are going to the dump. I’ll stop to pick up a few groceries on the way home. That will finish my list and I can go back to more days of lolling about reading and eating bon bons, which happen to be on my list.

“If you are never alone, you cannot know yourself.”

August 14, 2015

The days of summer seem to run together. When I wake up, I often forget what day it is. My trick is to remember yesterday then let today slide in its place. Some days are the same, my favorite days, the ones which have no lists. Today is not one of them.

Fern had to go to the vet’s yesterday. She hated the ride and messed the crate going and coming, but when she got to the vet’s, she was calm and investigated everything. She even watched a dog out the window. I took her because she was limping. The vet, Gracie’s vet, said the ligament in the back leg joint is looser than it should be. Surgery would correct that, but she thinks Fern is too old so we are going with pain killers and the hope over time it will mend itself. I help by carrying Fern up and down the stairs.

I don’t spend much time with people any more. I have a play on some Wednesdays and Fridays and movie night on Saturday. That’s it. The rest of the time I’m by myself. I’m just fine with that. I don’t really miss people all that much though I always do enjoy my time with friends. I remember when I first lived alone. I hated it. It was in Ghana. I was homesick and lonely, craving people. I had my students but they didn’t fill the void.

It took a few long months before I was comfortable with myself and could fill and enjoy my time. That was a life lesson for which I am forever thankful. It is not one I ever expected. Peace Corps is so much more than you can imagine.

“My mom said the only reason men are alive is for lawn care and vehicle maintenance.”

May 30, 2015

On spring Saturday mornings, my neighborhood was filled with the sounds of fathers mowing lawns with their push mowers. All we could hear were whirrs and clicking sounds. After that came the scraping sounds of rakes. I always felt reassured in a way. The world was as it should be on a spring Saturday morning.

Today is a day much like yesterday. The morning air is cool and filled with sunlight. Some leaves on the backyard trees are in sun while others are caught in shadow. I keep going to the deck just to stand a while in the beauty of the day. While there, I’ve been watching the cardinal couple. They must have a nest nearby as they are always on one or another of the branches by my gate.

I scared a spawn this morning. It was on the back side of the feeder and neither one of us saw the other. When I was right at the rail, it leapt and I jumped.

My lawn is being mowed. The guy has one of those standing mowers which make so much noise. It took him all of five minutes to do my lawn. I can also hear other mowers and edgers being used around the neighborhood. The Saturday ritual continues but is different, noisier, much less personal, much less fun to hear.

When I was a kid, life was serendipitous and spontaneous. I had no obligations, no chores and no places to be. I never needed a list. Now I make lists. They’re my way to stay organized and push myself a bit as I love sloth days. This has been a busy week for me mostly doing errands so today is an around the house day. I have a few flowers to plant, a table to paint, a really small table, a few feeders to clean, the ones for the orioles and the hummingbirds, and my deck needs sweeping again. I have decided, though, not to put them on a list. That would make me obligated.

“You never know the true value of a moment until it becomes a memory.”

June 12, 2014

The morning is chilly, but the sun is shining which gives hope for a warmer day. Rain is coming maybe tonight but definitely tomorrow. I love this time of year when my world is wonderfully spring green.

This morning I realized I know too many useless facts. They are taking up space in my memory drawers, and they don’t seem to have much value beyond a bit of cocktail chatter. Who really cares that the Mona Lisa has no eyebrows or eyelashes? I didn’t even notice until I had read this somewhere. In the shower, most people wash starting head first. I know I do. It makes perfect sense to start at the top and work downward. We all have lyrics in our heads to songs we sang years ago when AM radio was it, was all we had. I even remember the singing commercials. They and the lyrics don’t ever disappear, but ask me state capitals, and I hesitate. Is Helena North or South Dakota? It’s neither. It’s Montana’s.

My descriptive powers are growing in leaps and bounds. Adjectives are my friends. I don’t remember names of famous people as much anymore, but I can tell you how tall they are, whether they have facial hair and sort of describe the movie they might have been in. I read an entire book and forget the title, but I can describe perfectly the plot. The names of authors disappeared long ago. I look to friends for help, and they are as perplexed as I. Every morning I wake up and figure out the day of the week.

I have always been a list maker. Long ago I learned that lists make life easier. Now I find them essential. I keep a grocery list and add to it as I run out of stuff. I have my to do list with items in no particular order or set for any specific day. That’s sort of an out in case I don’t feel like doing anything but lolling. My calendar is a tear off day by day desk calendar with, of all things, a trivia question each day. I put a reminder on my calendar the day before any event because I missed a couple of events by not tearing off the old day. Tomorrow is breakfast with friends.

I think my most important memories don’t ever disappear. They seem to stay around, vivid and almost alive. For the rest of them, there is always Google.

“I’m sorry. This is diary, not enlightenment.”

April 28, 2014

I couldn’t believe my eyes when I woke up. There it was, the sun, shining through the bedroom window. The sky was even blue. I ran downstairs trailed by Gracie and Fern and opened the front door. The sun streamed through the glass and Fern got comfy on the rug in the heat of the sunlight. Gracie went into the yard, and I went onto the deck. There was a bit of a morning chill, but I didn’t care. We have sun, glorious sun.

One side of my den table is covered in sticky notes. A list of perennials for the garden fill one note. I chose flowers of varying heights because I particularly want some taller ones for the back. Another sticky has a small shopping list for today: bird seed, cat food and toilet paper. A third note is a reminder I need to go to CVS.  The last note has a list of authors I want to read and a few apps I want to download to my iPad. Sticky notes are my salvation.

When I was around twelve or thirteen, I got a diary as a Christmas present. The cover was pink vinyl and had a cartoonish teenage girl on the front talking on the phone. The diary came with a small gold key, but I really didn’t need to lock it. Little in there was ever something I wanted hidden. In my first few entries I mostly talked about school and drill (I was on a drill team) and what my friends and I were doing which wasn’t much. I did mention sneaking out of school at lunch time pretending I was going home to eat. I also admitted to my diary that I had lied. I arrived back to school late after lunch some days and told the nun I was with Father somebody or other. She always bought the lie.

I didn’t have enough teenage angst to fill my diary. I wrote about being angry with my mother or father, but that anger never lasted long. I wrote about what a jerk my brother was, but that was no revelation. Life for me was really pretty easy. I got tired of that diary after only a few months and stopped writing in it. I put it in my drawer and just left it there. It got covered with stuff, and I forgot all about it until we were moving to the Cape. I was clearing out my bureau where I found the diary and started reading. It was about the most boring thing I’d ever read.

“Adults are just obsolete children and the hell with them.”

May 11, 2012

Today is a pretty day. Out my window here by the desk, I can see the sun shining on the leaves of the giant oak tree, and the leaves shimmer each time even the slightest breeze moves them. Fern is sprawled on the rug in the sun where it streams through the front door. Grace is sitting on the deck watching the yard. Maddie is on the dining room table-her usual perch.

I have very little ambition. I do have one errand, but it will wait until later in the day. Gracie can come with me for the ride, and that will make her afternoon.

My favorite part of being a kid was having little or no responsibility. I had to go to school, and I had to do well but that last part was my compulsion, not my parents’ demand. They were casual about report cards. We kids were never planners. We’d decided in the moment what we wanted to do. List making was a long way in the future, except for those Christmas lists for Santa. I remember we’d say, “When I grow up,” not really understanding exactly what that meant. I just saw being grown-up as an ideal time when I could do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted.

What a shock I got when I did grow up. A job? I have to have a job? Car payments too? Rent, food, clothes-is there no end to the responsibilities of being a grown-up? Where’s the fun? Where’s doing what I want?

I did get to travel, but that grew out of my childhood dreams. Adulthood just gave me the means. Friday, the end of the work week, took Saturday’s place as my favorite day of the week. No more Saturday matinees: it was now chore day. Sunday was dump day and plan my lessons day. If I went out, it was usually Saturday night or maybe an occasional Friday happy hour, both literally and figuratively. I just compressed my adulthood into a single paragraph.

Now I am back to doing what I want when I want. Sometimes that means I want to do nothing. I’m figuring today is one of those days. I’m going to join Fern, Maddie and Gracie and just while away the day. I have a few books I’ve yet to read.