Posted tagged ‘Patriots’

“You have to eat oatmeal or you’ll dry up. Anybody knows that.”

January 23, 2017

Today is not one of my best days. My mother would say I am not up to snuff. To give you a better idea: I woke up at 9:30 and never got my first cup of coffee until 10:15. I just didn’t have the energy. I have someone who does all my yard work, a factotum who does odd jobs and plows, and a couple who clean every two weeks. Now I’m thinking I need a barista.

My Patriots gave the Steelers a bit of a football beating last night. We were on our feet more than a few times cheering their heroics on the field. Now it is on to the Super Bowl. My first thought for the big game is the menu. I’m thinking a sort of tailgating in the living room. I really wish my Dad was around so he too could cheer for his Pats and nosh with us (nosh-another one from my mother).

When I was a kid, baseball was my sport to watch mostly because it was easy to understand. The game didn’t have all the positions or plays football has. My dad watched the Giants on TV. I never did. I was a Red Sox fan. My football knowledge is much greater than it was, but I still don’t understand a lot of the responsibilities of the many positions. I understand the fundamentals of the game, and I find that’s enough.

Winter this year is weird. It is warmer. Today the high will be in the low 40’s and the low will be 38˚. It’s raining which makes it feel colder. It is also going to be extremely windy. When I was young, it was always cold walking to school. I was bundled as much as my mother could fit on me, but I swear my cheeks often went numb. They were red the entire winter. I didn’t have many colds, but I had sniffles. My nose was not a pretty sight nor, sadly, were my sleeve and mittens. Kids never carried handkerchiefs or kleenex.

My mother made the best cocoa. I drank it every winter morning. She’d dissolve the Nestle’s cocoa in some milk then add hot water to the cup. The cocoa always had bubbles on the top.

I have eaten all sorts of foods on my travels. Sometimes I had no idea what I was eating. I didn’t know the language. In some countries, I was glad I didn’t know. When I was a kid, I ate foods I’d never touch now. I ate sardines, the ones out of a can with a key on the top. I ate Spam right out of a can, also with a key on top. Those keys took a deft hand. My favorite way, favorite here used with tongue in cheek, of eating Spam was after it was fried. My mother often made us oatmeal for school day breakfasts. It wasn’t the smooth instant oatmeal they now sell. It was thick, lumpy oatmeal out of the cardboard cylinder with the Quaker on it. I never liked the lumps, but I found out that milk, a little cinnamon and lots of sugar helps the oatmeal, lumps and all, go down.

“Our pets are our family.”

September 12, 2016

The den is my refuge from the summer heat. The windows face north and west so no sun hits the room until late afternoon. Until then, the room stays relatively cool. Today, though, the room was cold. It needed a bit of the sun. I had left the windows open, and the cold night air had lingered. My arms were cold so I put on my sweatshirt. I love needing a sweatshirt.

I have no obligations today, no chores and no lists. For the sake of hygiene, I will take a shower. I might even change my bed, but that may be going a bit overboard.

Yesterday was sit on the couch and watch sports day. First were the Red Sox who beat Toronto to go up 2 games. David Ortiz hit another crucial home run. I clapped and cheered. It’s a good think I have no neighbors. The Patriots were without Brady and were not favored to win. They did win 23-21, a squeaker. It was a good day for Boston sports.

I saw vultures in Ghana. They were big, and they were ugly birds. They used to walk around the open courtyard of the family compound. Nobody seemed to care so I didn’t. Once there were two of them. Toddlers walked around them and were totally unafraid. If I had gone near those toddlers, they would have screamed. They would have been totally afraid of my white skin. It gave me pause.

My pets are old. Fern and Maddie are almost 18, and Gracie is almost 12. They sleep a lot. The cats sleep the most as cats are wont to do. Gracie is the most active. She goes out her dog door, does her business then runs around the yard. She comes back with spit on her muzzle from opening her mouth when she runs. That sounds gross, but it isn’t or maybe it isn’t because Gracie is my dog. Boxers drool when food is around. Gracie makes bubbles. That takes talent.

The trouble with “weather forecasting is that it’s right too often for us to ignore it and wrong too often for us to rely on it.”

January 22, 2016

The paper is filled with news of the weather and the Patriots. A snowstorm is expected here by Saturday night. The amount of snow keeps changing, but it appears the Cape will get more than Boston. The Patriots play the Broncos Sunday in Denver. The Pats are 3 point favorites which is nothing given their horrendous record in Denver.

This morning was sunny but the gray sky is back but not dark enough to hide the light. It’s cold so I’m staying home and keeping warm and cozy. Last night around 6 I went to the store for a couple of things. The roads were just about empty. The parking lot at the market had 4 or 5 cars, usually I have to go around a couple of times until a spot opens. Inside, most of the stores were closed, but I did manage to find some goodies including shrimp fried rice, clam chowder and a couple of cod cakes. My larder is well filled.

When I was a kid, weather reporting was simple. We didn’t have warnings about when the storm might start and stop or how many inches to expect. My mother never raced off for groceries like bread or milk or water. We kids always had high hopes they’d be too much snow for school, but we wouldn’t officially find out until the next morning when the fire whistle blew.

Meteorologists now do the weather reporting on TV. They follow storms for days and tell us what might be coming. They even know how much snow we should expect. Gone are the markers, the white boards and the maps on erasable boards. Everything is computerized, no more guessing, no more fire whistles. Everyone now knows when to rush out to buy their water and bread. Tomorrow morning should begin the onslaught of frantic people facing a huge snow storm and bent on filling their fridge with water.

“In football everything is complicated by the presence of the opposite team.”

January 20, 2015

Today is pretty with a blue sky and sun. It is also cold, in the 30’s. Gracie and I are venturing out this afternoon as I have a couple of errands. She’ll be happy for the car ride but Gracie is usually a happy dog, a tail wagger.

I cleaned out my closet of clothes I haven’t worn in years, since I retired. It amazed me how many clothes I had, but I wore a dress or skirt to work every day and hated to wear the same things too close together. Now my closet has plenty of room. In it are my current outfits. There are four dresses which I seldom wear. Easter was the last time I wore a dress. Flannel shirts, polo shirts and a few dressier tops don’t take up a lot of room. Two of my tops are floral. Why I bought them I have no idea. I am not a floral type. I have summer and winter pants and sweatshirt type tops with hoods. My Ghanaian clothes are now hanging in the closet. One is a dress and three are shirts. They used to hang on the back of my bedroom door. They are colorful and stand out from the rest of my clothes. Anyone could guess they come from Africa or some other exotic place. My guest room closet is next on the list to be cleared, but I’ll save that for another day or month or even year.

I know the world hates the Patriots. According to many they only win if they cheat. That to me is poor sportsmanship and sour grapes. The latest accusation comes from the Colts, no surprise there after the beating they took. They are accusing the Pats of using under-inflated footballs to gain an advantage in the rain. It is being called deflate-gate. I loved the CNN post by Mike Downey which called this, “a weird, wild, farcical, you-gotta-be-kidding-me “controversy” that has, uh, blown up unexpectedly.” Mr. Downey filled his article with puns and jokes befitting the accusation. His conclusion was, “I  believe the Patriots win most of their games because they score more points than the other team does.” Jimmy Fallon was hysterical with his opening monologue last night about inflated and deflated balls. You had to know that was coming.

“Football is the ballet of the masses.”

January 11, 2015

I’m still trying to catch my breath after watching the Patriot’s playoff game yesterday. It wasn’t a pretty game. The defense left holes big enough for tanks to drive through. Twice the Pats were down by 14. It wasn’t until the fourth quarter when Brady hit LaFell with a pass along the left sideline that the Pats went ahead for the first time: 35-31 which would be the final score. We cheered, yelled, whined, complained and even booed a couple of times. Flacco tried a Hail Mary with a couple of seconds left, but the end zone was so filled with players, including Gronk, that the ball was deflected. We finally got to breathe.

When the game started, it was 19˚ at Gillette then it got colder. Today is relatively warm at 26˚. Tomorrow will be a one day heat wave in the 40’s. I’m trying to remember where I put my sandals.

When I was a little kid and had to walk to school, my mother dressed me in so many layers the clothes barely fit on one hook in the cloakroom. It took what seemed forever to get down to my school uniform, the first layer. The cloakroom had two rows of hooks on both sides on the walls, and in winter, there was no easy path to move through all the clothes to get to the classroom. Coats and jackets ended up on the floor so Sister Redempta, my first grade teacher, used to make us go back out and hang up all the jackets. She had an aversion to mess. I think that was a nun thing.

I still have the most amazing visual memory of that first grade cloakroom. It had wooden walls, a wide opening by the main classroom door and a door at the other opposite end which led to the classroom, to the aisle near the windows. The bottom rows of hooks were indented beneath the top rows. The floor was tile. The optimum spots for hanging jackets were the lower hooks. On rainy days, our jackets usually dried as they were in the open air, not in some lockers.

I lost my cloakrooms in the fifth grade when we moved to the new school. It had lockers with no locks or combinations which didn’t phase us at all. We were used to cloakrooms with open access. Besides, I had nothing valuable except my lunch: my bologna sandwich, chips and if I were lucky, a Ring Ding or a Devil Dog.

“In football everything is complicated by the presence of the opposite team.”

January 19, 2014

The sun is just arriving after being away a few days. I can even see blue sky. But if the weatherman is correct, neither will last long. The temperature is only 31˚ and snow flurries are predicted. I’m not sure if it’s a breeze or a wind. All the dead leaves and the smaller branches are blowing. Even with the sunlight, the day isn’t inviting.

This afternoon I’ll be watching the Pats and the Broncos. It will be 62˚ in Colorado at game time. That doesn’t seem right somehow. Football is a cold weather sport. There should be snow and breath you can see. You know I will be cheering for my Pats. I don’t mind the Broncos, but I don’t like Peyton Manning and never have. Something about him grates on me. My Colorado family didn’t like him either when he quarterbacked the Colts. Now he is their poster boy. Wishy washy!

Sometimes I get a bit nostalgic and watch black and white television programs on Cozi, a fairly recent channel to the line-up. The other day I watched The Lone Ranger and Robin Hood with Richard Greene. The opening 0f Robin Hood with the music and the arrow flying through the air with a whooshing sound is still a great opening. I even watched a little of The Real McCoys, but I could take only a little. Grandpappy Amos just didn’t make it for me.

Today is change the litter and do laundry day. I can’t think of two worse chores around the house.

I just made a new pot of coffee. While I was waiting, I took a gander out the kitchen window. It is finch day at the feeders. Both gold finches and house finches vie for space on three different feeders. All of the feeders are swaying. It is a wind, not a breeze.

“I put my school uniform on the radiator for like 10 minutes before I get changed, it makes me warm, it’s like rocket science.”

October 14, 2013

Today is a click your heels in the air day for local sports. The Patriots won their game in the last few seconds, and the Sox came from a five run deficit to win 6-5 at the bottom of the ninth. It was late, around 11:30, when the winning run crossed the plate, and I wanted to celebrate so I called my friend. He had stopped watching when the Sox were losing 5-0 and had gone bed. I woke him up with my call. I think he was sorry for giving up on the Sox. I then called Colorado, and they celebrated with me. It was David Ortiz who had hit a grand slam in dramatic fashion to tie the game. I jumped up from the couch, clapped my hands and cheered. Fenway went wild and David had to take a curtain call. Saltalamacchia’s single was the walk-off winning hit. I love October baseball when anything can happen.

The Sox left this morning for Detroit. The next game is tomorrow afternoon. Go Sox!!

My sister was born on the real Columbus Day, not the excuse of a long weekend Monday. When she was young, she thought we got the day off from school because it was her birthday. Everybody celebrated Sheila’s birthday!

Gracie has been outside all morning. The day is cool with lots of sun so she’s enjoying the yard. My house was only 61˚ when I woke up so I delayed my shower and turned on the heat. I see no reason to be cold.

I loved the sounds of the radiators in the house where I grew up. One was on the wall opposite the foot of my bed. I could hear the hiss of the steam when the heat was radiating, and I could hear the water moving through the pipes. On a really cold day, I’d get home from school and sit with my back to the radiator for as long as I could stand the heat. Some days I’d put my hands on the top of it so I could feel my fingers again. The radiator served as a dryer. We’d put our mittens on the top, and they’d steam as they dried. My wet shoes went underneath and they usually curled from the heat. It was fun walking in them the first time after the radiator treatment. It was always sort of comforting to fall asleep to the familiar sounds of the radiator.

“That grand old poem called Winter”

January 15, 2012

Today is winter. I have no doubt. I woke up to a snow squall, a tiny nor’easter, and a yard covered by the dusting. It is now 13°. I went out for breakfast as I usually do but my car was slow to heat. Gracie was in the back seat wearing her Pendleton coat, and, as I was a bit early, I rode around until the car was warm so Miss Gracie would be comfortable waiting.

The snow isn’t pretty the way some storms are. The wind is tossing the flakes which keep changing size. Right now they’re large and wispy. Just a short while ago, they were tiny and look short-lived. They’re falling beneath a gray white sky. The branches of the pine trees are dark against the snow and sky.

The bird feeders need filling, but I’ll bring them inside to fill then put them back outside. I’m not standing there in this cold. Besides I don’t see a bird. They are huddled elsewhere keeping warm.

The game last night was one-sided. Tom Brady was magnificent. How he found his targets in the middle of all those Broncos was nothing short of amazing. Tebow et al were outclassed from the opening minute. I’m guessing it will be the Ravens next.

I’ll experience the day from right here in my den. My feet are now clad in cozies and slippers, and I’m wearing flannel pants and a sweatshirt. I’m already thinking nap.