Posted tagged ‘noisy’

“It’s difficult to think anything but pleasant thoughts while eating a homegrown tomato.”

September 8, 2017

Today is a delight. It will be in the 70’s during the day and the mid 50’s tonight. The breeze is ever so slight. The sunshine has a fall look about it. I stayed outside with Gracie a little bit this morning so I could watch the birds. The goldfinches love the new thistle feeder, and there were four of them on it at once. One got a little possessive and chased a chickadee away. I have a new thistle feeder I haven’t put out yet, but I will in a bit as I have to fill the sunflower feeders again. Luckily I bought new seeds the other day: mixed, sunflower and thistle. I’m ready for the onslaught of the birds. Where’s Alfred Hitchcock?

This has been a busy week for me. I was out every day but yesterday. I even lost track of the days. This morning I had to think about yesterday in order to remember today. I double-checked my guess by looking at the calendar. I guessed right.

My neighborhood is noisy. I can hear lawn mowers, hedge clippers and blowers from next door. They’re probably due here next. What I don’t hear are voices or even cars. The kids are in school, and the traffic has lessened since Labor Day.

My garden has flowers in bloom. They are beautiful. Three of the four front fence pieces are covered by white clematis. I keep the gate open as the flowers have spread and have started covering the gate space. I have to sidle through. When I do, I worry a bit about the bees, but they don’t seem to care about me. They have the flowers. I added red hibiscus two weeks ago to the back of the front garden, the only bare spot. The flowers were on sale so I took the chance. The first few days I hand watered, but then it rained and it rained again. The flowers took hold. The buds have blossomed. They are tall enough to be seen from the road and add a wondrous color to the garden. Now I want more color for the few here and there spots needing flowers, but that will be for next year unless, of course, I find another great sale.

I think I’ll go to the farm stand. I’d like some home-grown tomatoes. I’m also still hoping for Thai food. My taste buds crave coconut shrimp. It is probably not a coincidence that the farm stand is on the way to the Thai restaurant.

“I’ve buried a lot of my laundry in the back yard.”

July 27, 2017

My quiet mornings ended this morning. I heard a dog barking, a little girl yelling from down the street, two mowers from different directions and voices from the next door deck. Gracie even barked out the front door. I didn’t bother to get up to see why. I was hoping to fall back to sleep, but then it got quiet and the silence was as loud as the noise.

Today I have people. Skip, my factotum, is completing the deck decorating. He has connected the umbrella light, gotten the fountain working and put down the deck rug. The barbecue has been cleaned, and the squirrel nest on the tray underneath the burners has been cleared. My shower has a new board replacing the mushy one. New lights are on the rails just waiting for the spawns to eat. Lee and Rosanna, my cleaning couple, are due here in the afternoon. Peapod is coming Saturday morning with all my groceries. My job is to write checks, worthwhile checks, as a recent study has shown that if you hire people to do household jobs you are far happier. That would be me sitting here with a grin on my face.

It was sunny when I woke up, but clouds have taken over the sky, and the breeze makes the air feel a bit chilly. Last night I woke up cold and added a light blanket. How silly this weather is for late July.

My menu is set, my movie chosen and the deck is ready for movie night. The only issue is the weather. It may rain on Saturday night at the movies so we’ll have Sunday night at the movies.

I’m getting the urge to cook again. I used to love making new recipes and inviting people to dinner. I’ve been mulling an international dinner with dishes from a variety of countries, each identified by a tiny flag. It would be fun.

When I worked, I had a schedule for weekdays and another for weekends. I got everything done: the cleaning, grocery shopping, laundry and garden and lawn work. Now I have people. The only thing left for me is the laundry, and I admit I procrastinate. The laundry bag sits in front of the cellar door for a few days and sometimes even a week. I don’t even care. If I could hire a laundress I would. I have no pride!

“Sweet are the thoughts that savour of content, The quiet mind is richer than a crown…”

March 25, 2017

It rained last night leaving today cloudy and dark. It’s warmer than it has been. All my chores and errands got finished, scratched out. Today is a stay at home day. Right now Boris Karloff as The Mummy is on TV. I have seen this movie several times, but that doesn’t ever matter. A propeller plane circles the world, the eerie music starts, and we see Egypt and the desert. We’re at a dig: it’s 1931, and the mummified remains of Imhotep, who had been buried alive, have just been found. A warning on the top of the chest buried with the mummy warns that whoever opens the chest will die. Despite the warning the chest is opened, the sacred words are said and the mummy comes back to life. There’s more but not here.

In winter, cloudy days sometimes make me feel subdued, and, after several in a row, even melancholic while other cloudy days, like today, make me feel cozy in my warm house. Life doesn’t get much better than being in my comfy clothes and watching one of my favorites, a black and white science fiction movie from the 30’s. I’m even having Chinese for lunch. It’s one of those perfect days.

When I was in Ghana, I lived alone for the first time. My house, one side of a duplex, was brand new and on school grounds right by the back gate, which I had to climb a few times as the watchman chose not to hear me yelling for the gate to be opened. (Sorry for the digression. Back to the story.) I was really lonely the first few months. I hated the quiet of my house. I played music especially at night to ward off the silence, but, by Christmas, I relished the night-time quiet because every day was busy and filled with sounds. In the morning it was the swishing of the hand- held brooms as the students cleaned the compound. After that, I could hear buckets being filled with water for bathing and the conversations of my students in a variety of languages. From that morning time on, the day was only quiet after the students had lights out.

It is always a marvel to me that life in Ghana took on a routine, became every day. Here I was living on a school compound in Bolgatanga. It was eggs and toast and coffee, horrible coffee, for breakfast, fruit for lunch and chicken or beef with a sauce and yams on the side, sometimes fried but mostly mashed, for dinner. I went to the market every third day and filled my basket with vegetables and fruit. The amazement of living in Africa was replaced by familiarity. It was home.

I think the memory of living in Ghana surfaces on days like today. I recognize the comfort in the quiet I felt then and I’m feeling now. It is contentment!

“Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive.”

August 21, 2015

Gracie and I are outside. The air is cooler and far breezier than it has been. The sun comes and goes. Rain is a possibility for later, but that has been the forecast on and off for the last week, and we haven’t yet had rain.

There is a cricket which has taken up residence in my house. I swear it follows me from room to room like the eyes of a creepy picture. My hope is either it finds the way out or has a short life span.

It is noisier than usual out here. I hear dogs barking from all different directions. From the grouchy neighbor’s house I hear voices and things being moved around on the deck. The birds are singing and the fountain is gurgling or whatever it is that fountains do. Lots of birds are enjoying the feeders which I filled yesterday.

Since the class reunion last Saturday I’ve done some thinking about people and time. I hadn’t seen most of those people in over fifty years yet we still had a bond of shared experiences and memories. We were fourteen, still young, when we met. We  hadn’t yet figured ourselves out let alone other people. We gravitated to classmates who had similar interests and senses of humor and, for me, a willingness to try new things and an appreciation for the ironic though I didn’t know that’s what it was until I was older. My friends and I were, in a small way, rebels. I remember reading books from the Index Librorum Prohibitorum, forbidden books for those of you who weren’t lucky enough to have four years of Latin. I didn’t like the book. It was the forbidden part which drew me. Mad Magazine was a favorite of ours, and we bought it every month. We roamed Harvard Square. We rang doorbells for SNCC.

You can say my friends and I grew up together as parts of me were born during those days. Without those funny, irreverent friends I believe my life might have been very different. I would have missed so much!

“I always give my grandkids a couple of quarters when they go home. It’s a bargain.”

June 14, 2015

The morning is cool. The sun comes and goes. No rain is predicted until tomorrow so the sun may be back to stay later. The usual morning quiet has been interrupted by the guy next door putting in a new slider. The house is a summer rental, and they seldom do any work on it so the old slider must have been in really bad shape. I just know my quiet has disappeared.

My grandparents, my father’s parents, lived in the same town as we did. We didn’t visit them as often as we did my city grandparents, but I remember staying over their house a couple of times. It seemed huge to me. I remember it well.

To get to the house from the sidewalk, you had to walk up a flight of stairs then a second fight at the house. The driveway was below the house. Rocks lined the tall side walls of the driveway which curved a bit just before the garage doors. It was not an easy driveway to maneuver. The kitchen was my favorite room. The cabinets were wooden and reached to the ceiling. A small closet might have held all sorts of stuff, but I only remember the bottles of root beer stored on the floor. There was a built in ironing board, a built in table with some chairs and a bench and a deep sink below the only window. The dining room was right off the kitchen and had a wall of windows. The dining room set matched: the chairs, the table, and the dish cabinet, that’s what I called it anyway. There was a piano in the living room but nobody knew how to play it. There was also a fireplace in the living room but it was never lit. Off the living room was a small sunroom with my grandfather’s desk, his pipe cabinet, a small table and two chairs. Upstairs were three bedrooms and the bath. My grandparent’s bedroom had stairs in the closet which led to the attic. My aunt’s former bedroom had matching wooden furniture in dark wood. I remember the bureau had a mirror. The third bedroom was small and had a door to a balcony too small to be used. On the garage level was the laundry room and another huge room lined with bench topped bookcases. I remember the garage was perfectly neat. Tools were hung and a work table was clean and clear.

The yard seemed huge even though the neighboring houses were close. The house next door had a big garden and rabbit hutches at the top of a hill. I don’t remember any rabbits. There was also a huge shade tree between the houses.

I sometimes drive down the street where the house is just because of the memories. The house sits on what would be an isthmus if it were surrounded by water. The isthmus is too narrow for the two sets of houses, one on each side of two roads, especially since there are now fences separating the yards. The house looks exactly the same.