Posted tagged ‘rain’
September 13, 2015
The rain started last night around 12:30. I could hear drops hitting the window air conditioner in my bedroom. I like the sound of a gentle rain.
It wasn’t a great night as I was up three times with Miss Gracie and her upset stomach. I had to go downstairs and let her out so she could graze. It was still raining, but when Gracie came back inside, she wasn’t too wet so the rain was light. We both finally fell asleep around 2:30. Fern woke me up about an hour later with her caterwauling, something she never does. I called and she came upstairs, got petted and then settled in beside me. Around nine she started her caterwauling again. That is so unlike Fern I was worried and got up for good wondering if something was wrong. I checked her and she seemed fine. I checked Maddie and she was fine. When I put food in the cat dish, Fern immediately chowed down and then daintily drank a lot of water. I guess the second round of noise was because she was hungry and thirsty. That is one entitled animal.
I wonder about people who don’t like animals. I figure they are missing an integral part of their DNA. All my life I have lived with a pet, even in Africa. I can’t imagine my house without one. It would be a lonely place. Who would I talk to? Gracie cocks her head when I talk to her so I know she’s listening. When she doesn’t get what she wants, she grumbles back to me, but I don’t really want to know what she has to say. She’s usually not happy. Cats meow at the slightest provocation. If my two talked, I suspect Fern would be pushy and aggravating. Maddie would be laid back but tough when she needed to be.
When I was a kid, I wanted to be like Doctor Doolittle and talk to the animals, but lots of times now I don’t even want to talk to people. I can’t imagine adding animals to the mix.
Categories: Musings
Tags: caterwauling, Doctor Doolittle, dog grazing, having pets, lonely without a pet, missing DNA, pets, rain, upset stomach
Comments: 4 Comments
September 11, 2015
The rain fell and kept falling. It rained all day and most of the night. The morning is dark and has that damp chill which sometimes follows rain. The day is uninviting. Everything is still wet. The breeze is enough to blow the branches on the oak trees, and once in a while I can hear the swishing sound leaves make. Other than that the day is quiet.
In school, on days like today, the room was especially quiet. It was as if the darkness had spread a pall on all of us. I remember the sounds of papers being passed up and down rows. I remember heads bent over worksheets and the sounds of our pencils scratching across the papers and up and down. The nun used to sit at her desk sometimes working, sometimes just staring, maybe even daydreaming. None of us even whispered. We didn’t want to disturb the day.
When I got home from school, I had to change out of my school clothes. Most times I’d wear my play clothes, but on days like today I’d put on my pajamas and lie in bed and read. That last one was my favorite. I would grab my latest book, my Nancy or my Trixie Belden, and get comfy under the covers. The lamp on my headboard was the only light and it shined directly on the page. It was wonderfully cozy.
There is still a lamp on my headboard, but it took me a while to find one. When I was a kid, the lamps were plastic and pink. Mine used to melt when I read under the covers. The one I have now is white and the plastic is covered by fabric. It has a Victorian look about it.
I keep a stack of books by my bed because I still love getting cozy under the covers. Most times I read myself to sleep.
Categories: Musings
Tags: breezy, chilly, damp, headboard lamp, Nancy Drew, pall, papers, pencils, play clothes, quiet classroom, rain, reading in bed, school clothes, Trixie Belden, uninviting, worksheets
Comments: 4 Comments
September 10, 2015
The thunder shook my house, and I can still hear rumbles in the distance. The rain is heavy. There are no individual drops, no pitter-patter on the windows. It is a pounding rain, a raining cats and dogs sort of rain. I hope it stays this way the whole day. The summer was dry so every bit of rain is welcomed.
I never had rain boots, only snow boots. My shoes always got wet and most times my socks did too. I always thought it was funny when my socks left wet footprints on the floor. My mother didn’t see the humor. I never had an umbrella either, but I didn’t care. Carrying one in case of rain seemed too big a burden. I already had my lunch box and my school bag. Besides, only the prissy girls seemed to have umbrellas.
I hated having to stay inside during recess on rainy days. That we were allowed to talk and walk around just wasn’t enough. After sitting all morning, we really needed to be able to be outside to play a while, to jump rope or chase each other.
The second half of rainy days were dreadful. I remember clock watching and daydreaming and losing track of the lesson. When that final bell rang, I grabbed my stuff and happily ran outside into the rain.
I saw my first bus yesterday so the season has begun. but I was so taken at the sight of that first bus, I forget to take note of where it was from. Now my life list won’t be complete.
Well, it has stopped raining. The weatherman did say intermittent showers, and he was right. The day got brighter for a bit but it is getting dark again. It will rain soon. I hope this shower stays around a bit longer.
Categories: Musings
Tags: inside for recess, rain, rain boots, raining cats and dogs, rainy school day, snow boots, thunder, umbrellas
Comments: 8 Comments
July 14, 2015
When I woke up, there was sun. Now the day is darkening and getting breezy, hints of the rain predicted for the afternoon. My room is dark as I haven’t lit any lamps. I like my house in the unexpected darkness of a soon to be rainy day. For reasons I can’t explain the house is comforting in the darkness and in the quiet. I don’t even hear birds singing. The only sounds come from the rustling of the leaves on the trees hanging over the deck.
I haven’t been to a drive-in movie for years. Wellfleet still has one, but I can’t seem to interest anyone in going. I even promised to do the snacks but had no takers. We were frequent drive-in movie goers when I was a kid. My grandfather had a pass to every E.M.Lowe’s theater including the drive-in, and we used that pass often. Just like every other kid at the drive-in I was wearing my pajamas and my sneakers, no slippers in case I needed to walk to the bathroom. At intermission the playground was filled with kids dressed for bed in their pajamas and robes. The first movie was always one for kids, sometimes a Disney or a dog movie like Lassie. After intermission came the movie for adults. Kids presumably had fallen asleep. The adult movies were seldom recent releases but were a year or two old and would probably be PG-13 rated today. Sometimes I’d see a bit of that movie before I fell asleep, but by the time I was 11 or 12, I’d watch all of it, well most of it anyway as we always left before the end. My father was not one to wait in traffic so we’d get a head start and be the only car leaving so early.
We never bought anything from the concession stand as most things were too expensive. I’d sometimes check out the food and sometimes really want a hot dog, but I knew not to ask. We had plenty of snacks in the car. My favorite was the popcorn. My mother was never shy with the butter. We each had a nickel bar of candy bought at the corner store on our way to the movie. The jug was always filled with something to drink, but my father got annoyed if we wanted some too often as he was the pourer who felt abused by constant asking.
My family didn’t have much money when I was growing up, but I never knew that. We did neat things and the drive-in was always one of my favorites.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Clouds, concession stand, darkness, drive-in movie, films for adults, leaving the movie early, nickel bar of candy, PG-13, playground, quiet, rain, sun, wearing pajamas
Comments: 20 Comments
July 2, 2015
The rain was unbelievable yesterday morning. In only ninety minutes we received 2 1/4 inches of rain. Roads were flooded, trees knocked down by lightning and thunder rumbled overhead the whole time, sometimes close, sometimes far way. When the storm ended, the humidity was stifling, but I had to do some errands so I left right away. Everyone else had the same idea. The dump was crowded and cars were bumper to bumper on the main roads. I sat in traffic and observed what was happening, none too patiently. I decided it was easy to determine the start of tourist season. The parking lot, the grassy areas on the other side of the road and any available space at the movie theater is filled on a rainy day. Two light cycles is the average waiting time at any red light. People curse you when you’re already on the rotary after you nearly hit their cars when they jump into rotary traffic. It is obvious the rules of a rotary are foreign to many people. Four way stops? Nope, no etiquette there. We all take turns at the stop signs, but not the man from Connecticut. He went right through a few seconds after the car in front of him. After two cars nearly hit him, they honked, and he looked bewildered. Cars on 6A go slowly and the driver and passengers gawk and swivel their heads from one side to the other. They point. Supermarkets run out of carriages. They are strewn all over the parking lot. Beaches fill by ten. Restaurants serving seafood fill by 6. We have learned to eat dinner at 5. Yesterday my last stop was Agway, a joyful spot, a place totally ignored by tourists.
When I got home and brought everything inside, I was sweating from every pore in my body. My shirt was soaked in the back, and my hair was curling from the humidity. I shut the windows and turned on the AC. I took a shower. a barely warm shower. My feet eventually got cold. That was a delight.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 4 way stops, beaches, dump run, gawking, inches of rain, lightning, rain, rotary traffic, thunder, traffic
Comments: 22 Comments
June 26, 2015
The morning is dark, wet and chilly. It is the sort of weather which dampens energy and enthusiasm. I heard one bird loudly singing and hoping, I think, others would join him in a morning song. None did, and now he is gone and the day is quiet, almost silent. The leaves on the oak tree ruffle a bit but not enough to make any sound. The silence is a bit eerie.
It rained earlier this morning and looks as if it may rain again. The rain must have been more of mist as the deck under the furniture never got wet. It is a good day to stay home.
Fern woke me up this morning. She was meowing over and over. I pretended to be asleep. She jumped on the bed and head butted my arm then licked my hand hoping for a response. I ignored her and she finally fell asleep beside me; however, she is still restless, the only one of my pets not asleep on the couch with me. This is their morning nap time, not to be confused with their afternoon or evening naps, but Fern is now standing in the doorway outside this room and meowing.
We always had pets when I was a kid. We had goldfish which never lasted very long. I always figured they were bored with life in a glass bowl. We had a turtle from Woolworth’s which lived for years. His plastic enclosure had a fake palm tree and a little island. We loved stunning flies to feed him as he preferred them alive. We’d put the fly in the bowl and watch it skimming the water while the turtle was swimming over to dine. We had a parakeet, a green one, and a couple of chameleons, whose color varied based on surroundings. I had two hamsters, both males according to the pet store. They had a litter. Go figure! Duke, our boxer, was around the whole of my childhood. He died when I was in college. Duke is the reason I love boxers. We had cats, Gideon, being the first followed by Luther and Josh. I don’t ever remember a time in my life when I didn’t have a pet to love and be loved in return.
Categories: Musings
Tags: afternoon naps, birds, cats, chameleons, dark, dogs, Fish, meowing, pets, rain, silence, staying inside
Comments: 6 Comments
June 19, 2015
Gracie is having her morning nap on the couch. She’s snoring. Maddie is under the lamp staying warm and Fern is sleeping on the couch cushion in the other room. Our routine is back.
I awoke to the sound of raindrops, but they lasted only a little while. The day, though, is still dark, overcast with light grey clouds. The weatherman says it will be warm, even hot.
The first few days of summer vacation when I was a kid were joyous days lacking routine, wide open days when I could do whatever I wanted. A long, wonderful summer stretched out in front of me. My bike never got put away. It stayed against the fence in the backyard. I used it to go to the library or to take a leisurely ride with no purpose or destination. I knew every corner of my town, every street. I knew all the places of interest. Some days I walked my bike on the sidewalk uptown while I looked in the store windows. Most times I hadn’t a cent, but I didn’t care. Looking was fun. In those days the square was filled with stores where you could watch the proprietors work. The shoe repair man always wore a leather apron. In the bakery you couldn’t watch the baking, just the wrapping and boxing of all the baked goods people bought. Meat hung in the window of one store and lobsters swam in a tank in the window of another. Cheese, huge round cheeses, filled the window of the buttery. The men’s store window had half mannequins wearing suit coats, shirts and ties. I always wondered why they didn’t have legs, but I guessed maybe the window was too small. The gas and electric appliance store had ranges in the windows. They were all white. People also went there to pay their electric bills. It was on the corner so half of the big door was really on two streets.
I’d get my fill of the square and bike home. I used different routes to vary the ride. I had a favorite house on one route which had a huge front porch and was painted red, my favorite color. On another route I went by the empty school. Sometimes I even rode on the dirt beside the railroad tracks as that was the shortest way home.
I never got tired of biking around town. When I go back, I drive on some of those same routes. The red house is still there, but the railroad tracks are gone. The square now has very few stores, and the remaining stores lack the character and individuality they had when I was young. I miss the lobsters the most though I do like the restaurant which has taken their place. When I go uptown now, I always think of what was and can name where all the stores once were. That restaurant was the Gloucester Fish Market.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bike riding, grey day, lobster tanks, looking on store windows, mannequins, railroad tracks, rain, round cheese in the window, routine, shoe store, summer vacation, warm-even hot
Comments: 6 Comments
June 6, 2015
The rain started during the night and has just stopped. Rain, even a bit of it, seems to dampen sounds. I don’t even hear birds. I did hear Gracie barking in the back yard, but I couldn’t find what prompted the warning. She has since come in and settled down for her morning nap, probably exhausted from all her barking. Fern too is napping for no other reason than just because she is a cat, and that’s what cats do.
My list did not get finished yesterday so I have to do the errands today. That’s okay as the tourists aren’t here yet for weekends, other than Memorial Day weekend, so I’ll find a place to park and not have to wait in line. I have three stops.
My father used Saturday mornings for his errands. Sometimes he would invite one of us but mostly he went alone. My Dad knew everybody in town so his errands took a while. He went to a two-seater barber shop. The one in Mayberry always reminded me of the one uptown. There was no Floyd but there was the same barber for years. He never had to ask how my father wanted his hair trimmed. He knew. The Chinese laundry also knew how my father liked his shirts. Back then my father only wore white shirts and they were always starched. I never thought about my dad taking his shirts to a laundry and not having my mother do them. That was just the way it was. Much later my father wore different colored shirts which didn’t need to be ironed fresh from the dryer. The first was a yellow button down collar shirt I gave him one Father’s Day. My mother said he’d never wear it, but he did. Another stop for my father was to visit his friend, a pharmacist at his own drug store. It was a small store crammed with anything and everything that bigger drug stores had. It even had a four stool fountain. Those stools had red covers. The last stop for my dad was sometimes at the Red Men where he’d have a beer with the guys. My dad was a member for a long time and one year was even Sachem. The organization is the nation’s oldest patriotic fraternal organization of American origin. I never knew that until I was much older. I just thought it was place for guys to sit around and have a beer or a drink. Come to find out it is both.
Some days develop personalities. Sunday is church day. Monday is the dreaded back to work day. Tuesday and Thursday are just days of the week that nobody seems to mind. Wednesday is hump day, the middle day, the starting line for the countdown to the weekend. Friday opens the weekend. We used to go out Friday afternoons when there were happy hours. It was a weekly ritual. Saturday is for chores and errands but it the best night of the week. Anything special happens on a Saturday night.
Categories: Musings
Tags: a beer or a drink, barber shop, barking dog, Chinese laundry, days of the week, errands, happy hours, hump day, Mayberry and Floyd, morning nap, quiet, rain, Red Men, special Saturdays, starched white shirts, to do list
Comments: 15 Comments
June 2, 2015
The rain came last night, stayed a while then left earlier this morning. In its wake is a dank day, a sweatshirt to stave off the cold day. I don’t see much hope of sun. Gracie and I are going to the dump. Days like today are perfect dump days because most people are smarter than I and stay away when it rains. I don’t really care. I’ll dry. Gracie cares even less: she stays in the car.
Gracie’s water dish and my toilet bowl looked a bit like the beach yesterday. Gracie buried her chew bone outside, and her face and jowls acted as a shovel to push dirt over her treasure. She came inside and drank to clean her face and left behind sand, lots of sand.
When I was a kid, I never minded being dirty. My hands were sometimes filthy because I caught grasshoppers in the field who left what I figured was brown poop on my hands and grabbed frogs out of the swamp water covered with bugs and algae. I usually had black blots on my fingers and hands from my bike’s handlebars grips. My pants had grass stains and dirty knees. None of it bothered me. We played hard when we were young. It was proof of a day well spent.
I always think the amount of dirt you can tolerate is directly proportional to your age. The younger you are, the dirtier you don’t mind being. I think that makes life easier. Now I hate it if my clothes have stains or if I drop a bit of lunch on my shirt. Out comes the Tide Pen. I used to carry Shout Wipes, but the pen is much easier to use. I now espouse the cleanliness next to Godliness maxim.
I do look forward to being really old simply because stains will no longer matter. The 90-year-old on my library board often wears a shirt with a stain. I chalk it up to her age and think nothing of it. It’s a sort of freedom granted to the very young and the very old. I am stuck in the middle.
Categories: Musings
Tags: being dirty, dank day, dump day, rain, stains on clothes, swampy water, sweatshirt day, youth
Comments: 3 Comments
May 12, 2015
Last night was hot and muggy. Poor Gracie was panting so I turned the AC on in my bedroom. It was a delight feeling the chill, and we both slept deeply. Today is sunny but cool and tonight will be back to the 40’s. It rained sometime earlier this morning. I know only because the street was still wet when I woke up.
My mother cooked hamburger more than any other kind of meat. It was the cheapest and the most versatile. My favorite was always her meatloaf. From meal to meal it never really tasted the same. I know it had eggs and breadcrumbs but I have no idea what else she threw in for flavor. In those days herbs came from a bottle. My mother always had onion and garlic powder on hand as well as oregano and parsley. Sometimes her meatloaf had ketchup spread across the top with bacon strips covering the ketchup. We always wanted a piece with the crusty bacon. Sometimes she frosted the meatloaf with mashed potatoes and then would brown the tips in the oven. Every now and then we’d get a round meatloaf hand-formed and placed in a pie pan to cook.
We always thought ourselves quite the gourmands when my mother cooked her Chinese food. We had a chop suey sort of dish with hamburger, bean sprouts and water chestnuts. My mother always put crunchy chow mein noodles on the top. Then there was American chop suey, a name which still perplexes me today. It has nothing to do with chop suey; instead, it’s elbow macaroni, hamburger, tomato sauce and onions and peppers. My mother would sprinkle parmesan cheese from the green container on top.
Hamburgers were a summer staple grilled to perfection by my dad. I always wanted a cheeseburger, and my father would open the cellophane covering each piece of yellow cheese and crown the meat with the cheese. He’d put the top on the grill so the cheese would melt. My mother usually made potato salad. It didn’t matter how often we had hamburgers and hot dogs in the summer. I would have eaten them every night without complaint.
I think my mother was a bit of a magician in the kitchen. We never thought of how often we ate hamburger. All of those dishes tasted different to us and a couple were even exotic.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 40's tonight, American chop suey, bacon, cheeseburger, chillier day, chow mein, eggs and crumbs, grill, Hamburger, hot dogs, ketchup, meatloaf, muggy night, rain
Comments: 12 Comments
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