Posted tagged ‘mail’

“Cities get built out of poet’s dreams.”

January 26, 2018

The day is again beautiful if you just look out the window, but if you go outside, dress warmly as it is only 29˚. I hurried when I got my paper and the mail from yesterday. I do need to go out later to get a few different cat food tastes to tempt Maddie. She’s hungry but not thrilled with the beef and liver. I can’t blame her. Liver would never thrill me either. She’s upstairs hiding again. I only got to give her one of her three meds this morning, the one slathered on her paw. As for the other two, she is getting wiser and checks my hands when I get near her.

My grandparents, my father’s parents, lived in the same town we did. They had a great old house on a street of old houses. I remember the smell of their house. It was the lingering aroma of my grandmother’s lilac perfume. Their kitchen had tall wooden cabinets, and I remember an ironing board hidden behind one long, skinny cabinet door. The closet in the kitchen always had bottles of root beer on the floor, but I don’t remember who drank it. The kitchen eating area was built in and so small we never ate there. We always ate in the dining room. I remember the furniture there was dark. A breakfront took up one wall. My grandmother stored her best dishes there. Another wall was all windows and right across from the neighbor’s back door. The chairs at the table were tall. For the longest time my feet didn’t touch the floor. The living room had a piano but no one knew how to play it. Their TV was a huge console in a light wooden cabinet. The mantle and fireplace were lovely but never saw a fire. The sun room was off the living room. It was a tiny room of all windows. A desk sat at one wall and two chairs with a table between were the rest of the furniture. My grandfather kept his pipe holder filled with pipes on that table. On the desk, there was a paperweight with an R embossed in gold. That was my favorite room.

My other grandparents also lived in an old house but in the city, in East Boston. We used to visit on Sundays. My father dropped us off at the house then he’d roam the streets looking for a parking space. The city was mesmerizing for me. All the houses were right beside each other, and every corner seemed to have a small store with an old lady behind the counter. We played in the street. I remember stick ball and using an old broom handle as a bat. The ball was half a pink rubber ball.

I loved visiting my city grandparents. We always felt welcomed. My father’s parents were aloof and lacked warmth. We visited them far less even though they were close at hand. They didn’t seem to know what to do with us or even what to say. When I was older, I never went with my dad to visit them. I doubt they even noticed.

“Look after your laundry, and your soul will look after itself.”

November 28, 2017

Yesterday and this morning were busy times, busy enough to keep me in sloth mode for the rest of the week. Yesterday I had an appointment in Hyannis then I shopped for dog food, two bags full, heavy bags full so I left one bag in the car. A repair man came yesterday afternoon and fixed my washer. He also checked the dryer which strangely enough worked for him. Once he was done and gone, I started doing the laundry which was piled in giant heaps on the cellar floor. One heap was from a couple of weeks ago and another from last week. The final heap, the smallest, was the afghan and a couple of  blankets from a few weeks ago which had had no immediacy so I let them sit on the floor a while. Once each heap was washed and dried, I carried it upstairs to this floor thinking to save my back but that made no difference. I killed my back anyway. It was so bad, I could have played Igor in Young Frankenstein. The laundry still sits on the chair in the living room waiting to be brought upstairs. It will be a long wait.

This morning Gracie woke me up early. She was restless and moving around on the couch cushion so I figured it was time for her to go out. Maddie was meowing just for the joy of it. She needed nothing. She was just being a cat. Gracie and I went out, and after Gracie was done, I went to get my mail from the box across the street. Gracie followed me. All of a sudden the hair on her back went up and she was growling. A lady was walking her dog, and Gracie hates other dogs so she went after this one. My arms were filled with mail, but I still tried too grab her halter. Gracie was moving better than she has in weeks. The other dog kept trying to get Gracie, but the lady walking her dog was wonderful. As we were both grappling, I told her Gracie has trouble walking so she held her dog with one hand and grabbed Gracie with other then transferred Gracie to me. There I was carrying the mail in one hand and bending over to hold Gracie’s halter with the other. When I got inside the house, I immediately sat on the stairs as I couldn’t move any further because of my back. I sat there a while and Gracie, looking a bit bewildered, watched me sit.

Here I am now, a few aspirins later, with a better back for the meanwhile. I will lift nothing heavier than a cup of coffee. The laundry can sit. I have no guilt leaving it there. That I did three heaps of laundry in one day is a new record for me, one I am quite proud for achieving.