Posted tagged ‘overcast’

“I’m flying… / Look at me, / Way up high, / Suddenly, / Here am I, / I’m flying.”

July 9, 2016

Today is another cold, damp, overcast day. I have shut all my windows, and I’m about to go get my sweatshirt. Rain is predicted for the afternoon. This is the sort of day which makes an afternoon nap sound inviting. I’m already tired thinking about it.

Peapod came this morning. I was told the delivery would arrive between 7:30 and 9:30. He knocked on my door just before 7:30. Luckily I was awake. The larder is full again.

Last night I saw a wonderful production of The Music Man at the Cape Playhouse which is starting its 90th year of continuous entertainment. I have been going there at least 35 years. I remember when every play was sold out. That’s not the case anymore. I’m thinking that live productions don’t appeal to the Netflix, Amazon Streaming, YouTube generation as I see so few of them at the Playhouse, but for the first time in a while there were several kids last night. I was glad they were being introduced to a live performance. None of the ones near me looked bored. That’s a good sign.

The library in my town had records you could borrow. I remember bringing home Camelot and playing it so many times I memorized most of the songs. A live version of Peter Pan with Mary Martin played on television when I was a kid. It was wonderful. My mother bought the records of the musical for us. They were 45’s. We’d load them on the middle piece you put on the hifi so we could pile three or four 45’s at once. I still remember most of the words to all the songs. My sister took my niece when she was young to a revival of Peter Pan. She loved it as much as we had only she was lucky to see it in person. She got to watch Peter fly. I never thought it strange that Peter Pan was always played by a woman when it was staged. My niece saw Cathy Rigby, but for me, Peter Pan is always Mary Martin.

I have flowers needing to be planted in pots and the dead flowers on my front step need to be replaced. Today seems the perfect day to do outside work, but I’m going to have to force myself to be motivated. Being cozy and warm inside is just so appealing.

“Well, this is not a boat accident! And it wasn’t any propeller; and it wasn’t any coral reef; and it wasn’t Jack the Ripper! It was a shark.”

June 28, 2016

Today is overcast and humid. We never got any rain. I was disappointed. Yesterday I needed the air conditioner. Gracie was panting the whole afternoon, and I started to get sweaty from the humidity. Such a lovely visual! The house cooled down nicely, and I slept well.

Fern is feeling better. She is back to her favorite spots for sleeping and hasn’t hidden in a few days. This morning she woke me up at 6 by meowing in my face. She has taken to doing that the last few days. I pat her and try to go back to sleep. In my world 6 is far too early. Today I made it to 6:45. Fern is back to sleep. Somehow that’s just wrong!

I wear my cozy clothes around the house. Getting dressed is only for errands. My pants are cotton with weird designs which would cause staring in public. I wear teeshirts and go barefoot. The deck is as far as I go outside clad as I am. I always hope no one rings the bell.

With July 4th coming I have to choose my movie. Independence Day, Jaws and 1776 are the choices. I like Jaws the most. It takes place on Cape Cod though Amity Island doesn’t exist. The film was shot on Martha’s Vineyard. I can’t think of a movie with a better opening or better music. The girl in the water, the first victim, swims to ballet music then she is thrashed back and forth. We never see what has hold of her. We just know because we are the shark in that scene. Ask anyone the sound of the shark music, and I suspect most people can tell you by sort of singing it: duunnn dunnn… duuuunnnn duun… duuunnnnnnnn dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun …

 

I consider that about the scariest music because we all know what’s coming and it is terrifying.  That shark kept people out of the water the summer it was released. Now we have several Great Whites off the coast of Chatham. They already have a soundtrack.

“And now we welcome the new year, full of things that have never been”

January 1, 2016

Happy New Year!

The weather doesn’t look much different being grey and overcast, and I slept away the morning having stayed up way too late last night, but I feel a bit different, a little more excited for each new day. I have no expectations so whatever happens will be a surprise. I know I’m hoping to go back to Ghana in the fall with my friends, my friends from Peace Corps days. We traveled together all the time back when, and we lived in a duplex on school grounds. They are funny and are great travelers, and they love Ghana. It feels like home to them as well. How lucky we are!

When I was a kid, New Year’s Day wasn’t especially significant to me. It meant the end of vacation so it had a pall about it. I’d had a whole week of no bedtime and playing as long as I wanted with my new toys. I’d read my new books well into the night without being told to turn off the light. One week just wasn’t enough.

It really didn’t take long for routine to grab us right back into it. Get up, get dressed, eat breakfast, walk to school, sit there all day with just lunch and recess to break up the monotony, sit back down after lunch then with great hoopla run home at the end of the day hoping for some outside play time before it got dark.

The funny thing is I never thought of that as a routine. I just thought of it as the lot of every kid. Weekends also followed a pattern. On most winter Saturdays we walked uptown for a movie. The sun was always low in the sky when we’d walk home. I remember that for some reason. When I was older, we’d often skate on a Saturday. We would walk to Rec Park and skate on the temporary rink the town put up every year. It was circular, and we always skated one way.

Sundays were seldom exciting. They were masses in the morning and family dinners in the afternoon before we were free. Bedtime came early on a Sunday. My mother always used the excuse we needed our sleep for school the next day. We never bought it.

“Candy is childhood, the best and bright moments you wish could have lasted forever.”

August 22, 2015

Last night it rained, but I missed it. The streets were still wet this morning so I didn’t miss it by much. I caught the annoying bug, but it wasn’t a cricket but rather a smokeippus alarmus more commonly known as a smoke alarm. It was time to change the battery.

Today is overcast and humid. We may even have more rain later. Movie night is postponed until tomorrow just in case. Someone is cutting his lawn, but the sound is muted in the thickness of the air. The feeders are popular this morning.

The red store and the white store were where we went for milk or bread or whatever else my mother needed. The white store was run by two old ladies, sisters I think. The red store was just one guy who smoked a lot. The store had a haze. The two ladies were patient and pleasant. Their store had a penny candy case, and they’d wait until we’d picked what we wanted. It was never easy. Sometimes I went for the hard candy like Mary Janes, Bit-o-Honey or the square candy with green mint and yellow banana flavors. All of them lasted a long time which was their appeal. Other times I went for the small, chocolatey, licorice candies with the racist name. We didn’t realize the meaning of that word. To us it was just the name of the candy. Sometimes I’d buy the paper with all the colored dots. The only problem was a bit of paper sometimes came with the dots. The ladies also had nickel bars, but we seldom had that much money. The Red Store had everything. The store was small and the aisles narrow, but every space was filled. There was even a frozen case on the far wall. I also remember a display of everything Hostess. It had penny candy, but the owner wasn’t very patient. Sometimes, though, I had to bike there to get what my mother wanted because the white store didn’t have it.

I miss the little stores. They helped make a neighborhood.