Posted tagged ‘lolling’

“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.

“Winter is a time of promise because there is so little to do — or because you can now and then permit yourself the luxury of thinking so.”

December 29, 2014

I no longer consider myself a loller. Yesterday I went out and did my errands and even brought my laundry downstairs, but I admit it got no further and still sits in the hall waiting for its final journey. I am in no hurry to move it. I just keep adding to it. Doing laundry demands a particular mood or a frantic need for specific clothes like underwear. Maybe tomorrow I keep telling myself.

It’s chilly today. We have sun and a blue sky, but it is pleasing only to the eye, best seen from the warm house through a window.

Getting ready then celebrating Christmas made for an exciting week. It was filled with anticipation and neither Christmas Eve nor Christmas Day disappointed. Now, however, there is a lull. I don’t even have a dance card. I take naps. I still light the Christmas tree every night, but its days are numbered. Soon the house will be boring, bereft of light and color, a perfect reflection of winter.

The ocean in winter looks dark and foreboding. The beach is sometimes so windy and bone chillingly cold you fear you’ll never get warm. The car heater on high makes your fingers tingle as they start to feel again. Your feet seem to take a bit longer, but taking off your shoes and putting your feet by the heater helps. Soon enough hands and feet are back to normal, and it is time to lower the blasting heat and move along.

I always hope no one comes to my door on a winter’s afternoon. I am never dressed for company. Even now I’m in my winter uniform. I’m wearing a sweatshirt, a Celtics sweatshirt, my around the house pants and a pair of new slippers. I haven’t even brushed my hair, but I don’t care. I am comfy and happy, and I’m thinking that’s all that counts.

“Games lubricate the body and mind.”

December 27, 2014

Okay, yesterday I was a woman of my word. I didn’t even get dressed. Most of the day I lolled. Today I need to get my laundry out of the dryer where it has sat for at least a week then I can do another laundry which will also probably sit for a week. I woke up at 10:20 this morning because I didn’t go to bed until three. I just wasn’t tired. Mostly I watched Doctor Who and then finished my book.

Winter sunlight is muted and seldom warm but still welcomed. It is here again today with its frame of blue. I was out on the deck to stop a barking Gracie, and though it isn’t as warm as it has been, it is still warm for late December. Gracie has been out most of the morning enjoying the yard. She has yet to take her morning nap, a most unusual occurrence.

One of favorite Christmas presents was my bike. I was around nine or ten. When I came downstairs Christmas morning, I saw it beside the tree leaning on its kickstand. I knew it was mine, not my brother’s, because it was a girl’s bike. I remember that was the Christmas of no snow, and on Christmas morning I was glad. I’d get to ride my bike. When I took it outside for the first time on the day after Christmas, my mother took a picture of me standing beside the bike holding it by the handlebars. I have the biggest grin on my face. I remember how proud I was riding my new bike.

Every year we’d get a new game. On Christmas day, after dinner and seeing family, we’d set up the new game by the tree, lie on the rug and play. If we didn’t know the game one or the other of my parents read and explained the directions as we went along.

I give my friends a new game every year, my way of keeping the tradition alive. It’s getting more and more difficult finding real put your hands on the pieces games instead of video games, but I usually am lucky to find a couple.

I love game nights, our weekly get-togethers. We have appetizers and drinks. We have moaning and cursing. Sarcasm rules the evening. Someone is always dubbed the loser with finger L on forehead. Sorry and Phase 10 are the usual games. Phase 10 is civilized. Sorry never is and never has been. That’s the fun of it.