Posted tagged ‘milk’

“I saw goats. A party can’t be all bad when you have goats,” Lucy said.”

September 25, 2017

Today is amazing. When I went to get the papers, I was surprised how hot it is. The sun is bright. There isn’t even the slightest breeze. It is a summer day in late June.

Okay, I admit I am more aware of English grammar than the average person. I was, after all, an English teacher so I cringe when I hear bad grammar. I liken it to a musician playing a wrong note or a singer singing out of tune. I am more tolerant of conversation sprinkled with bad grammar. I don’t acknowledge it. Television, however, is a different story. Writers are eliminating the objective case, especially after a preposition. It is between you and me, never between you and I. Today it has been three times so far that good grammar has been tossed on TV. Detective, military and police procedure shows use experts in each field to check the plot details. Maybe it is time to hire an English teacher to check scripts for bad grammar.

My laundry is now downstairs leaning against the cellar door, and I am actually going to wash it today, a monumental task. I am also going to do a couple of errands. I think the sun has energized me.

Last night was so very foggy, a halloween sort of night. I expected something dressed in black to jump from behind the bushes to scare me. Actually, I was a little disappointed when nothing happened.

I once milked a goat. At first nothing happened. My technique was bad so I kept trying. My fingers were about to give out when the first squirt of milk hit the bucket. I felt so accomplished.

A herd of goats were responsible for my only motorcycle injury. It was in Ghana. I saw the herd start to cross the road so I stopped and waited. It changed direction and ran right into me. The bike started to fall so I grabbed it, and in the process got a burn on my leg, a round burn which took a long time to heal. The burn and the boils were my only Peace Corps medical issues.

“There is divinity in the clouds.”

May 9, 2017

Gracie woke me up around six this morning. She was panting, a sign she needed out. I put on my sweatshirt and took her out to the back yard. It was so cold I could see my own breath. My heat has gone on a few times. When I went to my early morning library board meeting, I saw people dressed in layers and wearing hats and gloves. Today is spring gone awry.

The sun was shining earlier, but now the clouds have taken over. The sky is a range of grays from dark to light. The prettiest clouds are the darkest of grays so dark as to be almost blue. No rain is predicted, just a cloudy day.

When I go back to my hometown, I pass houses where my childhood friends used to live. I remember them all. I used to envy Kathleen whose house was two houses away from school. She used to go home for lunch every day. My friend Eddie lived right across the street from the church. He also went home every day. Paula and Dennis lived close to each other about a fifteen-minute walk to school. Everyone walked. There were no busses, and very few parents drove kids to school as most families had only one car driven by dads and gone to work early, too early for school. I never gave walking to school a thought except when it rained.

My favorite lunchbox sandwich was bologna with mustard, the yellow kind of mustard. It was always a white bread sandwich. I didn’t even know bread came in a variety of tastes and colors. Friday was tuna fish sandwich day as we couldn’t eat meat. I can’t even remember the number of tuna sandwiches I ate all through elementary school, but I ate my fill. I don’t eat tuna fish anymore. I still eat bologna.

I used to love milk. It was perfect for washing down dinner and even better for dunking Oreos. I stopped drinking milk when I was in the Peace Corps as Ghana had no milk except evaporated in the can. I have milk now but only with my cereal. The best part of that is the flavor of the milk left on the bottom of the bowl after the cereal has been eaten.

Nothing much going on here. Today is a perfect day to stay home, to do nothing. My laundry finally made it upstairs, and I even put it away. That was my yesterday’s accomplishment. I’ll take what I can get and be content, maybe even a bit proud of finally getting that chore done.

“Silently, like thoughts that come and go, the snowflakes fall, each one a gem.”

January 7, 2017

The first thing I did when I woke up was check the clock then look out the window. The weatherman had said the snow would start around 10:00. It was 9:30 when I woke up, and it was already snowing. I jumped out of bed and got dressed to go outside. Gracie needed dry dog food.

The roads had more cars than I expected. Even Agway had a lot of customers. I didn’t check the grocery store parking lots, but I suspect they’re filled, and the stores are depleted of milk and bread. Peapod came last night so my fridge and cupboards are filled. I anticipated being housebound so I bought hummus, pita bread, chips, cheese and snacks as well as the staples. I have a bottle of champagne and plenty of orange juice.

The snow is supposed to fall between 1 and 3 inches an hour until 3 or 4 in the morning. My car is covered as are my footprints. Gracie slid down the last three steps when she went outside just a short while ago. I watched until she disappeared under the deck. She is a smart dog. Under the deck gave her a bit of protection from the snow.

I am mesmerized by the falling snow. I keep looking out the window at the flakes slanted from the north to the south. The snow on top of one big pine branch is sort of my measuring stick. It is double the height it was just a while ago.

Pine needles are all over the house. Most of them are still on the living room floor, but Gracie and I have carried needles on paws and slippers to the rest of downstairs. If I get bored, I’ll sweep then vacuum, but I’d have to be really, really bored. The Christmas decorations fill the couch and one side of the kitchen counters, but I just can’t conjure enough energy and enthusiasm to haul up the boxes to put everything away.

The corner is empty where the tree used to stand. The living room is dark without the glow of lights. The wonderful aroma of pine is gone. I hate saying goodbye to Christmas.

“Everyone knows that if you eat a cookie, and the cookie next to it is broken, you’re required to eat that broken cookie as well to keep the package looking clean.”

September 10, 2016

The air conditioner is off for the meanwhile. The sun disappeared a bit earlier and was replaced by clouds then it reappeared. I suspect that will happen all day. The air is damp. The weatherman said there is a possibility of rain. I’m not complaining as we need rain, but it would dampen movie night.

I used to wonder why pistachio nuts were red. I remember my stained fingers and torn fingernails after opening them, but I thought those were a small price to pay. Now there are no red pistachios, only ones with natural shells. I know most of our pistachios used to come from Iran until the embargo. Come to find out, they were dyed red to disguise any shell imperfections from the harvesting. Now they come from California and have no imperfections, no blemishes on the shells. I find them a bit boring, still tasty and still tearing my fingernails but boring. I know I can buy them already shelled but that seems like cheating.

I was too impatient adding Nestle’s Quick to my milk. I stirred but never enough. On the bottom of my glass was always a layer of chocolate sludge. I used to eat that with a spoon. Once my mother bought Strawberry Quick. I liked the pink color, but I wasn’t a big fan of the strawberry. I don’t think she ever bought it again.

I don’t drink milk anymore except for the leftover milk from my cereal which tastes like the cereal. I think it was in Ghana where I lost my taste for milk as I never had any. Ghanaians don’t drink milk even though they have cows. It never occurred to me to have a villager sell me the milk.

I always liked Fig Newtons. Now I find them a bit dry. I buy fresh figs instead. Oreos are the only off the shelf cookies I buy. Mostly I get cookies from the bakery. Anise cookies are my favorite, but the bakery doesn’t always have them so I have to be content with chocolate chip.

My trip stuff list is getting bigger. I added Oreos this morning. When my parents and I traveled together, my mother always brought snacks. Some were the packages of crackers and cheese. My favorite was the peanut butter crackers, not the orange ones, the brown ones. My mother never had to bring any snacks home.

This is the quietest day. I think the thick air diffuses sound so it disappears. Gracie isn’t even snoring. I wonder if all the kids are wearing gags.

 

“The bicycle, the bicycle surely, should always be the vehicle of novelists and poets.”

April 15, 2016

The day is windy and cold but still lovely with lots of sun and a blue sky that even Crayola can’t duplicate. I really have nothing to do today. I spent the morning playing around with my MAC which was a bit feisty. I couldn’t use it until I solved the problem. I seem to be getting much better at healing my MAC.

When I was a kid, today was a big day because at the end of school April vacation started. We had the whole next week off. I don’t remember if the week was warm or not. I just remember my bike was out of the cellar, and we were all over town. We didn’t have a specific destination. We just rode. I remember we went to the zoo a couple of times and through parts of town we didn’t know well. Sometimes we brought our lunches while other times we went home for lunch and a bathroom break though we didn’t really need an inside bathroom. One of my favorite rides was to the farm. The cows were always out in the field and we’d watch a long while. I have a couple of milk bottles from that farm. It is still there, but it sells sod and fertilizer and stuff like that. The cows are long gone.

We’d ride to the next town and around its lake. It was to us a huge lake, and we loved that it was right in the middle of a town. Sometimes on our rides we’d end up where we started while other times we’d only go about halfway around, leave the lake and end up in a different town. That town also bordered my town but on the other side. It was a boring town but it did have a great diner. When I was older and visiting for the weekend, my father would sometimes take my mother and me out for breakfast there. I still love diners. I also still love going out for breakfast.

Every day we did something. Five days away from school were never to be wasted. I don’t remember a whole lot of walking, but I figure we must have gone into the woods and walked to the swamp. We kept careful watch on the seasons at the swamp. We knew when it was warm enough the tadpoles would be there darting away from our fingers. I remember the sun shining on that swamp and warming my back when I was lying down on the grass beside where the tadpoles were. That swamp was one of the neatest places I have ever known.