Posted tagged ‘no humidity’

“Be music always. Keep changing the keys, tones, pitch, and volume of each of the songs you create along your life’s journey and play on.”

July 10, 2017

Okay, a lady walks into a computer store, dead computer in hand. She waits while the technician tries a few things, but there are no easy fixes. She forks over $80.00 and leaves her computer for 3 to 5 days meaning the poor woman faces more time in iPad hell, but she is still a bit hopeful as she knows hope springs eternal. On the way out of the store a line of new computers are all connected and sitting in a row against the wall. She foolishly tries one. It’s magic she thinks. The computer is speedy, the touch needed is a delicate one and it has this changing sort of screen at the top of the keyboard. Wow, she thinks then calls over the guy and asks a few questions. There is still time to run, but she doesn’t. She stays and plays with the computer. In a short while, she walks out of the store with computer in hand, a new MacBook Pro with a 15 inch screen, Siri and all sorts of bells and whistles. The woman is smiling.

Today is a beautiful sunny day. It will be in the low 80’s, tolerable when there is no humidity. The breeze is ever so slight; only the leaves at the end of the branches move up and down. I have doors and windows open. Every now and then the chimes ring. It is the sweetest sound. It is the only sound now.

Earlier, the neighbor’s dog was barking for what seemed hours. Another neighbor had her landscaper mowing her lawn and cutting the front bushes. It was around 8 when the the mower started. I am against raucous noise in the morning.

On my school compound in Ghana the morning sounds at first were so different they woke me far too early, but soon enough they became part of my consciousness, and I didn’t hear them while I slept. Roosters were the first sounds I heard and the first sounds I learned to ignore. Next, I could hear the swish of hand held brooms made of stalks. My students were sweeping the whole compound including the dirt in front of my house. Afterwards, they lined up in front of two spigots to fill buckets with water for their baths.  I could hear the clicking of the buckets, the flowing water and the conversations in the line. By then, I was usually up and dressed and having my first cup of coffee while sitting outside on the small concrete porch in front of my house.

After a while, I took for granted those sounds, but I had stored them away in my memory drawers. When I went back to Ghana, to Bolga, the first morning sound I heard was a rooster. It woke me up, but I just smiled, turned over and went back to sleep.

 

“I like freedom. I wake up in the morning and say, ‘I don’t know, should I have a popsicle or a donut?’ You know, who knows?”

August 8, 2016

It has already been a full day for me. I am unused to having a list of must go places all in a single day. Usually I get to spread them around. I even went to one place twice. I got home from Agway and couldn’t find my bag so I drove back to Agway then I saw my bag on the back seat floor. I would never have looked there as my usual spot is on the other front seat, and I seldom deviated from the usual.

Today is a lovely day, in the low 80’s but with no humidity. I’ll be heading to the deck later with one of the books I just got from the library. I’m thinking cheese and crackers for lunch. I also have some Italian hard salami. It will be a wonderful sort of picnic except at a table and with no ants.

Sometimes I wish I were Samantha the witch. I’d just wiggle my nose. One of my gripes is the number of calls I get every day from unknown people and unfamiliar places. If I could, I’d send them back to the caller accompanied by an ear-splitting sound. I wonder how many calls they make to me before they give up as I don’t answer any of them. I’m beginning to think it is in the hundreds.

It is popsicle weather. Licking a cherry popsicle on a really hot day is a shortcut to nirvana, but you have to lick fast or popsicle drips go down your fingers to your hand. Having sticky fingers isn’t any fun. When I was older, I learned to lick from the bottom to the top.

Watermelon chunks are in my fridge. I bought the watermelon already that way. It is far easier to eat the chucks of fruit than watermelon off the rind. I consider watermelon the finest of summer fruit treats.

 

In winter I eat hearty food; in summer I eat random food, whatever appeals to me. It just has to be refreshing or quick to make. Most of my summer food comes out of the fridge ready to be eaten. Winter food generally needs to be cooked.

Okay, I’m hungry so I’m off to the deck with my book, a pseudo-picnic and a cold drink. I’m thinking it is a perfect way to spend a lazy afternoon.

“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass on a summer day listening to the murmur of water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is hardly a waste of time.”

September 6, 2015

Sorry for today’s late start but it was one of those mirror under the nose mornings. I slept until 11, but as my mother always said, I must have needed it.

It is another beautiful day with lots of sun and no humidity. I have no plans except for doing a few house things like water plants, fold laundry and oil my old desk. It is an antique children’s desk and needs periodic oiling as it gets quite dry. With no humidity, it’s a great oil the desk day.

My neighbors are on their deck. I can hear them talking. I can also smell their dinner cooking on the grill. I think today is probably universal cook on the grill Sunday. Both my sisters also mentioned a barbecue. Some meat, fresh corn and a salad is the perfect menu. The local corn is now in the farm markets. It is so sweet you’d almost want it for dessert. Adding homegrown tomatoes raises the salad to culinary heights. The meat is secondary; anything will do. I’m partial to cheeseburgers but won’t turn my nose up at ribs or the lowly hot dog. I best stop now. I’m making myself hungry!

The summer has passed quickly. We might have one or two movie Saturdays left before it gets too cold. The last one has to be a blockbuster, but I haven’t yet decided what it will be, maybe The Adventures of Robin Hood or North by Northwest. I do have a couple I can’t wait to show as they are both so very bad, The Terror of Tiny Town (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pehsws6QYEo) and Chopper Chicks in Zombietown. That last one doesn’t even rate as a B movie.

It has been eleven years of being retired, but I still have a lingering distaste for Labor Day. It used to mean back to work and it was the symbolic end of summer. It wasn’t a day to celebrate. It was a day to mourn.

“Babies have big heads and big eyes, and tiny little bodies with tiny little arms and legs. So did the aliens at Roswell! I rest my case.”

July 25, 2015

It would seem a bit egocentric to believe we are it in this universe. Those science fiction movies about aliens can’t all be make-believe though I admit most of the the aliens are a bit much, totally unrealistic, in the looks department, but I digress so it’s back to the news. What has happened is the plot of one of those movies is bumping into real life. At the start of the movie Battleship, the scientist notes that they have found a planet in orbit around a sun almost equidistant from its sun as we are from ours. They speculate it has conditions similar to Earth’s and could sustain life. They are sending a beacon to that planet from a communications array in Hawaii; of course, the aliens directed by the beacon find Earth and set out to conquer it. We defeat the aliens, no surprise there. Okay, here’s real life: scientists have discovered an Earth like planet orbiting its sun just a bit further away from its sun than we are from ours. It is the third planet from the sun. Sound familiar? I’m thinking no beacon.

Today is an on again off again sunny day. Earlier it was all sun then all clouds. Now the sun is making a return engagement. The day feels pleasant, no humidity. It is in the mid 70’s. Tonight will be cooler, perfect for sleeping. It is also movie night. We are going to watch Breaking Away. My friends who were apparently brought up in closets haven’t ever seen it. I’m going to buy movie candy: Junior Mints and Malted Milk Balls and they’ll be popcorn.

Everything this morning is very quiet. I don’t even hear a mower. When I was a kid, my neighborhood was never quiet. Every house had multiple children so the place overflowed with kids. The little kids stayed close to home and played in the backyard. I can still see my two sisters sitting on the back steps playing with their dolls. The rest of us were nomads traveling for the sake of traveling. We had the world to explore.

“I’m painting a blue square in my backyard. So that Google Earth thinks I have a pool.”

July 16, 2015

Glorious is the perfect description for today. The brightly shining sun is framed by a lovely blue sky. The breeze is strong and the humidity has disappeared. It will be in the 70’s. I can hear the deck whispering my name.

Most houses around here have decks. At night I can hear people talking. One of my neighbors at the other end of the street has a distinct laugh, and when those neighbors have company, I can hear that laugh all the way down the street from their deck. When I was a kid, nobody had decks. Some people had brick patios but not in my neighborhood. On my bike rides I’d see them in the backyards of houses. Most had a table, chairs and an umbrella, sold in stores as patio sets. My backyard had a clothes line and a hill. When my father barbecued, we’d eat inside. It didn’t seem at all strange. That’s what everyone did.

Even when we moved to our own house, we didn’t do much outside. My parents bought a few webbed lawn chairs and a chaise lounge for the backyard, but I seldom spent any time out there. When my dad cooked, he’d pull over one of the chairs. We still ate inside.

After they moved off cape, my dad spent more time outside where he’d sit to drink his coffee and read the newspaper. Once when their living room furniture was being redone, my dad brought the chaise lounge to the living room, and it became his spot to watch TV. Their backyard was filled with mosquitos so my sister would sit on the lawn chairs in the front on the grass. Those were the days when the darker the tan the more impressive it was.

My house when I bought it had a farmer’s deck, and I found the perfect size small table with two chairs so I could sit outside, but I really wanted a huge deck. I got my wish. This deck is as long as the back of my house. It has two sets of stairs and at one end is what I call the dining room and at the other end is the living room. I love my deck, and I need to finish here so I can get outside. I’ve got a good book and some limeade. I’m set for the day.

“There’s a lot of difference between listening and hearing.”

July 11, 2015

The day is another beauty with sun, a blue sky and no humidity. The house is cool. The weather in the paper said we’d have low 80’s today and mid 60’s tonight, perfect for sleeping. This is summer at its best.

I have lots of household chores today and I have a list. I always have a list. Even when I had a good memory, I had a list. It is in no particular order and nothing is too strenuous. Doing the laundry is the most energy-consuming task.

The Great Whites are back in Chatham. One which was tagged in the past was the first to return. It seems even sharks can’t pass up a free lunch. The seals sunbathe on the rocks unaware of what lurks below the surface where the sharks wait patiently. People are a bit more leery this year given all the attacks off the coast in North Carolina. That they are not our Great Whites is a bit of comfort.

When I was a kid, my life was filled with demands. Brush your teeth. Wash your hands before dinner. Wipe your feet on the outside mat. Hang your coat in the closet, not on the chair. Put your schoolbag away. Go upstairs and change into play clothes. Finish your homework. Don’t sit so close to the TV or you’ll go blind. Leave your sisters alone. Don’t slam the door. Go outside and play until I call you for dinner. Don’t stand looking with the refrigerator door open. No cookies before dinner. Eat all your vegetables. Get ready for bed.

I suppose my mother chatted with us in-between, but I don’t remember. Every day she pretty much made the same demands because we generally ignored them, and none of her demands stuck with us in anticipation of the next day when they began all over again with something about teeth.

I was a master at not hearing my mother. When she spouted her daily demands, the words all ran together, and I understood nothing. It was as if she was speaking in a foreign tongue. I’d nod my head pretending I was listening. When I was reading, I didn’t hear her at all as I was totally immersed in the book. She never really believed me and thought I was ignoring her on purpose. She’d ask if I had heard her, and I’d truthfully answer no. That was the wrong answer. The truth sometimes is.

When I got a bit older, sarcasm just flew out of my mouth unfettered, uncensored. My mother would go wild. I didn’t blame her as I had become a bit of a wise ass.

“If a man whistles at you, don’t turn around. You are a lady not a dog.”

August 28, 2014

Even though it is still summer I can feel the season packing its suitcase to get out-of-town. The changes are subtle. Shadows are different, the nights are comfortable despite how warm the day gets, the morning breeze is sometimes from the north and there is little humidity. The cars seem fewer. Even the rental next door was empty all week. This weekend, though, will be busy being the last hurrah and all.

Today is lovely. Only bird songs break the quiet. It is nap time for all my animals. Gracie is snoring from her crate, Fern has settled on a couch pillow and Maddie, for once, has the spot in the sun Fern usually grabs. They must be exhausted after sleeping all night.

On the front page of the Globe, one of the stories was about the debate between democratic candidates running for attorney general. Ordinarily I couldn’t care less. I can’t even name the current attorney general. This debate, though, has created, according to the Globe, a firestorm. The male candidate called the female candidate’s aggressive line of questioning “unbecoming” which, according to women’s political groups, is one of those inflammatory sexist words. The male candidate, Tolman, apologized the next day and explained that he meant “as candidates for attorney general we should be held to a higher standard.” Romney, in a 2002 race for governor, described his female opponent in the same way. I don’t know if Tolman was being sexist but his word choice is incendiary. I was reminded of when I was a kid and told to stop whatever I was doing and “act like a lady.” I hated being told that and it made me sad and a little afraid for the future. I couldn’t imagine growing up and living by a behavioral code which limited how I dressed and what I said and did. Who decided how a lady acts? I figured I was going to be in trouble most of my life. I was never a kid for convention.

My favorite quotes in the article came from previous campaigns in other states. In 2012 in Missouri the male candidate described his female opponent as not particularly “ladylike” during a debate. In Minnesota the same year, Senator Amy Klobuchar was referred to as a “Daddy’s little girl” and a “prom queen” by her opponent.

How to act like a lady has gotten blurry, but it has yet to disappear. I’m thinking I still might need a handbook.