Posted tagged ‘Luddite’

A Luddite?

July 9, 2017

Okay, now it seems my iPad hates me. It took the longest time for this site to load. I am considering becoming a Luddite.

Last night we laughed our way through The Black Scorpion and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. The worst part of the scorpion was how much it drooled. The movie took place in Mexico, but luckily everyone spoke English. The film was made in 1957 and had every cheesy special effect. The black scorpion was mighty ugly with beady eyes and a couple of rows of teeth. The jeep moved but the background never did.

Dinner last night was perfect for a movie on the deck. The onions were sweet, the sausage delicious. The salad had all sorts of wonderful tastes: Parmesan crisis, candied walnuts, cherry tomatoes, dried cranberries and a lemon honey vinaigrette. Dessert was movie candy.

The night was lovely with a cooling breeze. The trees are so full that my neighbors’ houses disappear. No one else was out. We had the whole evening to ourselves.

I found a place to bring my laptop. It is open today and takes walk ins. I will finish here and hit the road and hope to have all of Coffee back for later today. I miss my music and the photos.

Until then!!

“Some sounds are so exquisite – far more exquisite than anything seen. Daff’s purr there on my rug, for instance – and the snap and crackle of the fire – and the squeaks and scrambles of mice that are having a jamboree behind the wainscot.”

May 21, 2016

Such a beautiful day it is today. We have sun, a breeze and some white clouds hiding the blue. Rain is predicted, but I can’t remember when.

I have a mystery. Every day at different times I find the corner of the living room rug turned up. Nothing is on or under the rug so I don’t understand why, and I certainly don’t know who, but Gracie is tops on my list of suspects. I’m thinking it’s a Gaslight thing.

Today I have little to say. The week was a busy one but it was mostly because of medical appointments for me and Fern. Nothing much to report except Fern needs more potassium. It’s coming in the mail.

Lawnmowers are disturbing the quiet of my neighborhood. Even my lawn is getting mowed though it hardly seemed tall enough to merit the cutting. I understand the attraction of gas powered mowers, but I miss the click clack of hand mowers, another sound from my childhood which has disappeared.

Snow on the TV is long gone. I remember my father adjusting the rabbit ears to get rid of the static sound of the snow. The ears were wrapped in aluminum foil to give the antenna greater reach. Lots of houses had antennas on the roof.

I remember when I was in Morocco and sitting at a table on the top floor of a restaurant in the old city. It seemed every house had a dish attached to its roof or to the side of the roof. Even the calls to prayer were computerized. I remember being in Bawku, Ghana living with a family for three weeks as part of my Peace Corps training. My room was close to the small mosque on the street below my bedroom so I could hear the call to prayer. The one around 3:30 always woke me up, but after a bit, I knew when it would end so I could go back to sleep. The call became part of my night. The singing of the prayer was beautiful.

I am not a Luddite. I have all sorts of machines, mostly in the kitchen, which make my life easier; however, I am saddened at the disappearance of so many things and so many sounds. The click clack always brought my father to mind. He never bought a power mower. I miss the bells on Sunday mornings. I miss the clinking of milk bottles, and I miss the milkman. I could go on and on. It is just one of those days. It all started with the sound of lawnmowers.