Posted tagged ‘reading’
April 10, 2015
This morning I noticed webbing between my toes. It appears I am beginning to adapt to a wet world where it rains every day. The sun is supposed to return, but I have become a skeptic worn down by snow and cold and rain.
In elementary school my day was chock full of subjects, some every day and some once a week. Many of them have since disappeared.
Back then no school room was complete without those green writing alphabet cards running atop the blackboards. On each was a single letter in both small and capital cursive forms. I always liked the capital Z and the capital Q. They were odd-looking and uncommon to use. We had penmanship a couple of times a week when we practiced the Palmer method. I remember the circles and the lines. I also remember mine were usually messy and didn’t resemble the examples we were following. The nun always stopped at my desk to show me how my hand should be moving up and down as I practiced. Many schools don’t teach writing any more. Cursive is disappearing.
Geography was always one of my favorite subjects. I wasn’t all that enthusiastic about knowing that Columbia produced coffee or that Costa Rica led the world in bananas, but I loved the pictures and the articles. I used to dream about visiting some of the countries in my book, but I never really believed I would see so many of them. When I was sixteen, we went to Niagara Falls and saw the falls from the Canadian side. I was visiting my first foreign country, and I was thrilled. They don’t teach stand alone geography any more either.
We had music a couple of times a week. We learned the fundamentals. I still remember every good boy does fine and face: the mnemonics for the names of the scale’s lines and spaces. We sang songs. I remember every nun had a mouth tuner like a round harmonica. She’d blow the note, and we were supposed to start singing the song on that note. I doubt we ever did. I was in the rhythm band in the first and second grades. I remember first year I did sticks and second year I did triangle. I always wanted tambourine.
Reading was a subject unto its self. We had reading books with stories then questions and new vocabulary at the end of each story. I always liked those books. Each year the stories shared a theme. My favorite was American folk heroes. I loved Pecos Bill and his riding the tornado. It was the only time he was “throwed” in his whole career as a cowboy. I learned about Paul Bunyan and Babe the blue ox, John Henry and Sally Ann Thunder who helped Davy Crockett and wore a real beehive as a hat and wrestled alligators in her spare time. There was even a sketch of her and the alligator. I got my love of reading from those books and those stories.
I was never bored in school. We went from one lesson to another quickly enough to stave off ennui. I looked forward to most of them but only tolerated the rest. I still don’t like arithmetic no matter what you call it.
Categories: Musings
Tags: alphabet letters, Amercian folk heroes, Columbia and coffee, Cursive, EGBDF, Elementary school, FACE, geography, math, music., Pecos Bill, penmanship, rain, reading, rhythm band, Sally Ann Thunder, skeptic, sticks and triangle, sun, webbing between the toes
Comments: 12 Comments
January 23, 2015
The morning is a cold one, a frosty morning. The sun is shining but has a pale winter light which brings no warmth. Gracie has been burying her treats. Her new chew has been buried twice and is still somewhere hidden underground in the yard. Gracie’s dirty face was a giveaway. She pushes the dirt over the hole with it. I cleaned her face but she didn’t seem grateful, only annoyed.
I watched Zorro today, twice. When I was a kid, it was shown in black and white, but it was filmed in color so that’s what I see now. Today Don Diego sang to Sergeant Garcia about how strong and powerful Garcia is, a flattering lie. The song was dubbed, not something I would ever have noticed when I was young. When the theme played at the beginning, I still knew the song by heart. Like Superman’s Clark Kent, Zorro’s Don Diego hides his alter ego but the disguise is easy to see through. Though Zorro wears a mask, he has Don Diego’s voice and mustache. When I was a kid, I knew enough to suspend my disbelief, and I loved watching Zorro. I even bought and read the first book of the Zorro series by Johnston McCulley. Instead of being a distraction, TV was an inspiration which led me to read novels on which the programs had been based.
I remember when cigarette commercials ruled the TV. Dancing packs, virile cowboys, catchy phrases and movie stars hawked cigarettes. I remember, “Winston tastes good like a cigarette should,” bad grammar but catchy. Santa Claus even smoked Luckies. I figure with all that traveling, he needed a cigarette break. It would have been tough smoking as the sleigh flew.
Pharmaceuticals now rule the TV commercial world, and I chuckle a bit at how many commercials are aimed at baby boomers. They show people my age solving problems such as incontinence, erectile dysfunction, the need for whole life insurance and wearing underwear like Depends which can’t be noticed under clothing. I’m thinking my future is fraught with indignities if the commercials are any indicators.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bone burying, cigarette commercials, cold day, commercials are aimed at baby boomers., Depends, Don Diego, Johnston McCulley, reading, reading Zorro, Sergeant Garcia, TV series, Winston tastes good, Zorro
Comments: 20 Comments
November 22, 2014
It might as well be spring. Okay, a slight exaggeration here but today will be 47˚ and Monday may hit 60˚. Right now it is sunny and a strong wind is whipping the trunks and leaves of the pine trees in the backyard. I had a really late start this morning as it was a mirror test morning. I didn’t even go upstairs to bed until three and slept fitfully. When I woke up, Fern and Gracie were deep asleep, each on one side of me. They seemed to have slept well.
My delay was further complicated when my computer went wanky, and I could only open Safari with that looping message about a security issue and could go no further. Luckily my iPad was handy, and I found the fix, a simple one.
Staying inside in the winter when I was a kid was usually make your own fun. The TV didn’t have programming until the early evening and then when I was a bit older the late afternoon so sitting and watching was not even a choice. One of our favorite ways to while away the time was playing board games. We’d set the game up on the living room rug and sit around it to play. Sorry was our favorite. Vengeance made the game more exciting, and we yapped back and forth after sending our opponent’s man back to start. That yapping would now be called trash talk. Often the game ended because one of us would get mad and start yelling then the other one would yell back so my mother would yell from the kitchen and tell us to put the game away. That was another argument. Who was going to put the game away?
Boy and girl roles were quite definite when I was a little. Coloring was for girls. I remember afternoons spent sitting at the kitchen table with all my crayons arrayed in front of me so I could choose the exact color to fill in the drawing. The crayons were all sizes, some whole, some mere stubs. The paper had been torn off each crayon as it got smaller so we never remembered the name of the color. We all wanted to color like my mother who shaded the colors like an artist might.
Spending the afternoon reading was always a joy for me. I was a library devotee. I’d take out as many books as I was allowed. I think it was three or four. Quiet spots were hard to come by in my house, but I’d manage. Getting lost in a book was about my favorite thing.
Today I am going nowhere. I think I might not even get dressed. On my table are some catalogues and a book. I’ll do Christmas shopping while watching some Christmas movie then I’ll get comfy and read. I’m thinking that sounds like the best way to spend an afternoon.
Categories: Musings
Tags: board games, coloring, computer wanky, crayons, library, reading, Sorry, warmer weather, Wind, winter afternoons
Comments: 13 Comments
October 11, 2014
It was a mirror under the nose morning as I slept until after ten. I always wonder if my neighbors will notice my paper still sits in the driveway so late and hope I’m okay or if they’ll just shake their heads and think that woman sleeps really late. I know they are up before seven every morning.
It’s raining. The house is dark, and I haven’t turned on any lights. The dog and cats are sleeping, the cats in here with me and the dog in her crate. She and I are going to the dump today because I figure the rain will keep people away, and tomorrow will be a madhouse as the dump is closed Mondays and Tuesdays.
Rainy Saturdays this time of year were the worst when I was a kid. It was too chilly to be outside playing in the rain, and there wasn’t a whole lot to do in the house. We could watch TV, play board games or read, and we’d try each until we were bored enough to move on to another. We often ended up fighting over the board game. It was always a he said-she said argument or accusations of cheating, and my mother would yell for us to put the game away. Most times I’d lie in bed and read. It was one of the few places where I could be by myself. I figure rainy Saturdays drove my mother crazy because she was stuck with the four of us, and we were stuck with each other. My father was usually off doing his Saturday stuff. When I think back, my mother was always around while my father worked until late every day and on Saturdays he was off doing his errands and then he’d worked outside in the yard. Sunday was the only day he was around the whole time except he went to an early mass where he was an usher. Once in a while we went with him, but it was really early.
My mother was the disciplinarian when my father wasn’t around. He was always the threat, “If you don’t stop what you’re doing, I’m telling your father.” That scared us. My mother was easy-going while my father wasn’t. We usually stopped. She never did tell.
Categories: Musings
Tags: board games, Father, fighting, late morning, Mother, rainy day, reading, Saturday chores, thrests
Comments: 10 Comments
July 15, 2014
Every day is dark and humid, but we don’t get rain. We just get sweaty. Thunder showers are predicted for the third day in a row. The difference today, though, is a strong breeze, strong enough to sway the chimes, bend branches and swish the leaves. The birds are unusually quiet. The rental next door has people this week, and I can hear them talking and laughing. They interrupt the usual quiet of the morning.
When I was in the fifth grade, we were bussed to school in the next town over while they finished building our new school. That was the year I got Little Women for Christmas, and I remember reading it on the bus. I loved the March girls and how they called their mother Marmee. Beth’s death made me cry. I hadn’t ever read a book before where someone dies. Jo was my favorite character. I wanted to be Jo. As I read the book and got closer and closer to the last page, I remember feeling sad, feeling a sense of loss, but then I found Little Men and Jo’s Boys, a sequel to Little Men. I could stay with the March family even longer. That was the year of Alcott for me.
I still hate reaching the end of a good novel. If I had more self-control, I’d slow down and make it all last longer, but I can’t. It is as if I am possessed. Sometimes I’ll read all day and well into the night, even to the early morning and first light. One Christmas my mother gave me Alive, and I started reading it Christmas afternoon. I was in a reading frenzy, the zone where there is nothing else. There are no sounds and no people, just the pages of my book. My mother broke in and thought I should put the book down as I had just opened it that morning and wouldn’t it be a shame to finish it so quickly. I didn’t know how to answer. My mother was a reader and should have understood. A good book is savored. It trumps everything. It’s a world unto itself which draws us in so we are lucky enough to become a part of that world.
It’s still happens to me.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Beth's death, humidity, Jo, last page of a good book, Little Women, rain, reading, reading frenzy, savoring books, Wind
Comments: 14 Comments
April 22, 2014
The morning was sunny but has since begun to get cloudy. Gracie was on the deck earlier when I heard her critter alert bark. I went out and she was trying to get at something hiding behind the deck box. I looked and nothing was there. The mighty watch dog had missed the critter leaving from the other end.
Yesterday was a wonderfully quiet day. I went back and forth between watching baseball and the marathon then read all afternoon. I brushed my teeth and combed my hair, but I didn’t get dressed, and I didn’t make my bed. Today, however, my dance card has a few entries, mostly errands, but I’m also having lunch with a friend, Thai food, one of my favorites. I’m even going to change my bed. I feel like a whirlwind of activity.
When I was a kid, I never had set chores. My brother had to empty the basket into the barrel, and he always complained about being put upon. Sometimes, though, I had to empty the inside garbage outside. My mother had a plastic triangular garbage holder with holes in the bottom. Its shape fit perfectly in the corner of the sink. When it was full, one of us took it outside to the garbage pail. The pail was in the ground and you used a pedal to open the lid. I remember all the maggots crawling on the garbage, but I was too young to be horrified by maggots. I was mostly fascinated. The garbage man came once a week and would haul out the pail and empty it into the big barrel he carried. I thought that was the grossest of all jobs until I met the night soil man in Ghana who emptied the outhouse pails. Now that was and still is to me the grossest job of all.
Almost none of the workers who came to the house had names. They were always men and each was defined by his job. We had the garbage man, the trash man, the mailman, the milk man, the newspaper man, the junkman and the scissors-knife sharpener man who rode his bicycle on the street and rang a bell to announce his arrival. The only name we knew was Johnny, the ice cream man. We never thought it strange that we didn’t know the names of the men who came so often to our house.
Now I know the names of the people who come to my house. There are far fewer than when I was a kid. Bob is my mailman, Lori is my newspaper deliverer and Sebastian is my landscaper. The milk now comes from the store and my knives and scissors need sharpening. I am the trash and garbage man who goes once a week to the dump. I haven’t seen a maggot in years.
Categories: Musings
Tags: critter bark, garbage man, garbage pail, Ghana, gross jobs, maggots, marathon and baseball, nameless workers, night soil man, quiet day, reading, sunny and cloudy, trash man
Comments: 10 Comments
January 9, 2014
The days are getting warmer. By the weekend we should be in the high 40’s and even the low 50’s. That sounds like deck weather after the cold spell we’ve all endured. Gracie is bored because of that cold. She goes out to do her business or to take one run around the backyard. This morning she was staring and growling at some of her toys. She brought a couple to me, and I threw them down the hall hoping for a game of fetch. She just stood looking at me and whining. Luckily she is now asleep, snoring of course. I have nothing to do today. Yesterday I was out and about, but today I am staying home. My groceries are arriving later, I have a few books to read on my iPad and the house is clean. I suppose I could do laundry, but I won’t.
The Edge of Dark Water by Joe R. Lansdale was the book I just finished. I liked it. The whole novel revolved around three young teens taking the ashes of their murdered friend to Hollywood where she always expected to go and become a star. The trip is on or around the Sabine River. Skunk, the legendary killer who cuts off the hands of his victims, is after them. I won’t give any more of the story in case you’re intrigued, but I refuse to be held responsible if you hate it. Tastes in books vary in as many ways as there are books. I had no expectations for this novel and how much I liked it surprised me. I had to read straight through. At the end I found out that Joe R. Lansdale has written and published hundreds of novels, novellas, novelettes, short stories, chapbooks, comic books, graphic novels, and collections. I also found out he wrote Bubba Ho-Tep which I didn’t read, but I did see and liked the movie made from it. IMDb had the best description of this film, “Elvis and JFK, both alive and in a nursing home, fight for the souls of their fellow residents as they battle an ancient Egyptian Mummy.” Okay, that description is more than enough. I’m going to read more by this author. Amazon here I come!
Reading has always been a joy for me. Trips to the library were every week when I was a kid. I’d haul home the limit I could take and read them in a few days. I used to hide a light under the covers so I could read at night after I was expected to be asleep. I’d spend my entire 50 cents allowance on a new book which always caused my father to give me the putting money away for a rainy day lecture. I didn’t take heed. I knew I’d made the best investment with my money. I still have some of those books I bought. They are about Donna Parker and Trixie Belden, amateur teenage detectives. The pages are yellow and sort of fragile now, but every now and then I pick one up and read a page or two just for the memories.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bored dog, Bubba Ho-Tep, fetch, getting warmer, groceries, Joe R. Lansdale, Laundry, new books, reading, reading at night, The Edge of Dark Water, the joy of reading, Trixie Belden
Comments: 5 Comments
December 20, 2013
Today is a lovely, warm winter’s day. Lots of birds are at the feeders, mostly goldfinches and chickadees. Gracie was in the backyard all morning, and when she came back inside, her mouth and chin were covered with dirt. Miss Gracie had taken the opportunity presented by the day to do a bit of digging. I suspect she buried the giant biscuit she got as a gift. I hate to think of what it will look like when she’s decided it’s prime for munching.
Yesterday was A Christmas Carol day. TCM had four different versions on during the day and evening. I watched two of them and have a third to watch later. The first I watched is my all time favorite, the Alastair Sim version released in 1951. I love watching Scrooge’s reclamation and his dance on Christmas morning. The second was an amazing version called Scrooge with Seymour Hicks which was released in 1935 and is the first of them with sound. Jacob Marley is unseen on-screen. He says only Scrooge can see him, and Scrooge looks at an empty chair while he and Marley converse. The best part of this movie is it gives a view of Victorian England and the contrast between the rich and the poor. One scene shows boys watching through a cellar window as a feast for lords and ladies is being prepared and then scraps are thrown through the same window to the boys who scramble for one. I love it when the Lord Mayor is asked if he wants to speak or did he want his guests to continue to enjoy themselves. Scrooge on Christmas morning is as merry as an angel, and there are scenes different from any other film. We watch Scrooge shave with a straight razor and nick his nose, throw his coat over his robe and night-shirt to go the butcher’s shop, and we meet the most charming of all his charwomen. Scrooge sits at his nephew’s Christmas dinner table after shedding a few tears standing at the Christmas tree. The next morning Cratchit is late as in every movie, but this time Scrooge sends Bob home with a raise and tells him to enjoy his family for the day. The last scene is in church where Scrooge sits in a pew and sees Cratchit beside him. He touches Bob’s sleeve and Bob touches Scrooge’s hand. That scene, so warm and loving, is the last in the movie.
I have a few grocery items to pick up but that’s my entire to-do list. The rest of the day will be leisurely. I’ll read, munch a few Christmas cookies my friend made and just delivered and I’ll drink some egg nog, laced just a bit. I’m thinking that sounds like the best of days.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Alastair Sim, Christmas Carol, Christmas cookies, digging in the yard, egg nog, first Scrooge talkie, Lords and ladies, Miss Gracie the Boxer, reading, Seymour Hicks, wonderful weather
Comments: 24 Comments
November 2, 2013
It started raining around three this morning. I was still awake. It was one of those nights. I’d shut off the light and hope to fall asleep, but I’d just lie there tossing and turning forgotten, even deserted, by Morpheus. After a while, I’d turn the light back on, grab my book and start reading again. I finished the book around five this morning, heard my papers being delivered, contemplated getting up but gave sleep one more try, and that’s the last thing I remember.
Yesterday we had a wind advisory which I really didn’t need. All I had to do was look out the back window. The pine tree trunks and branches were swaying and dipping. Leaves were being blown off the trees and into the yard. The deck, cleaned the other day, was plastered with yellow, wet leaves. Gracie and I went out. I was surprised by how warm it was even with the wind. I stayed there a while.
Today is again warm but cloudy and damp. The air is perfectly still as if the wind blew itself out in yesterday’s fierceness. It will start to get cold tonight, more like the late fall we have come to expect.
I’m watching the Red Sox celebrate their championship in a rolling rally of duck boats. The sidewalks all along the rally route are lined with people twenty and thirty deep come to pay tribute to the Sox. The Dropkick Murphys are playing and confetti is showering the boats and the crowds. The duck boats are now headed to the Charles River for a quick dip and the end of the rally. It was a glorious baseball season.
Don’t forget to turn your clocks back tonight.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 5 am, can't sleep, cloudy and damp, leaves strewn, Morpheus, rain, reading, tossing and turning, windy
Comments: 12 Comments
June 10, 2013
The morning has been a busy one already. I woke so early I was able to read both papers, do another load of laundry, make my bed and go out for breakfast. When I got home, I found, to my dismay, my tranquility had disappeared and been replaced by the sounds of workmen next door who are taking down the old shingles. Hammering on the new will be next. The house certainly did need a face life. Nothing has been done to it since it was built. The house is a summer rental, and upkeep is not a priority. I would love to see the inside as I’m thinking retro 70’s.
A summer ritual will be performed today. I’m replacing the storm door in the back with the screen door. The day is already hot and hazy and a little cross air would cool the house. That door faces the south, and, in the summer, that’s the direction from which all my breezes come.
I already feel accomplished today and don’t think I’ll do much else. I have a new book to read, and it’s been a while since I just sat and read all day. I’m thinking lounging on the couch might work perfectly.
A long while back I bought Converse high top sneakers in a variety of colors. I know I have pink and purple pairs. It might just be time to start wearing them again. I have reached that age when wearing whatever I want will cause no stir. People will look, see that I am older and just accept what I’m wearing as the vagaries of older age. I think it’s a perk. Most times I don’t go anywhere which requires a certain dress. Putting on a blouse or a shirt is dressing up for me. I spent too many years in dresses, panty hose and fancy but sensible shoes. Now I want comfort, just comfort.
I have so many t-shirts. Some are souvenirs my friends brought back or I bought on one of my adventures. Some are TV shows like M.A.S.H. and Hill Street Blues. A few are music groups, and I even have a Pete Seeger. Some others are ads and were free t-shirts. I have two favorites. One says, “Let’s eat grandma! Let’s eat, grandma. Punctuation saves lives.” The other has to do with the spawns. It says, “I have reason to believe the squirrels are mocking me.” Truer words were never written!
Categories: Musings
Tags: busy morning, cpmfort, Dresses, hammering, hazy day, high tops, lounging, reading, sneakers, summer ritual, t-shirts
Comments: 24 Comments
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