Posted tagged ‘red’

“Stars of heaven, clear and bright, Shine upon this Christmas light, Vaster far than midnight skies Are its timeless mysteries.”

December 19, 2017

Last night it rained. The snow became pockmarked by the raindrops then most of it disappeared. The last of the snow is soft and wet. It was cloudy this morning, but I can see blue sky now and a hint of sunshine. Today is already 49˚ but it will be cold again tonight.

When I was a kid, the closer we got to Christmas the more difficult it was for me to breathe. I was in a constant state of excitement with all the Christmas doings. I loved the late afternoon when my brother and I raced to turn on the window candles. The best, a five candle tier, was in the picture window. It had all orange bulbs. The candles were sort of an off-white plastic, and most were taped to the window sill so they wouldn’t keep falling over from the weight of the bulbs. We had to screw the bulbs on as there were no switches. We had to screw them off as well, but we never raced for that. The bulbs were always hot to the touch. I used to lick my fingers before I touched the hot bulbs.

My mother kept us busy to distract us, to keep us calm, a huge undertaking. My favorite day was when we decorated sugar cookies. My mother made Santas, bells, trees and angels. She’d have bowls of white frosting and colored frosting in green, red and yellow. None of us were particularly talented. The trees were the easiest. I’d color them green, naturally, then I’d make strings of yellow and red lights. Santa was a bit more complicated because of the white pompom on his hat and his beard. The key was to frost the red parts first and try to leave space for the white. My Santas tended to look all the same. The angels got the yellow frosting. Sometimes we’d cover the whole cookie in white then we’d sprinkle with green or red or colored jimmies. That was usually when we had gotten tired and maybe a bit bored.

I always thought that at Christmas time everything seemed to look different, as if the world around me was covered by an aura. Even now I sometimes think that, especially at night when the air is clear and the sky star-lit and Christmas lights shine from the houses. Last night I went around and turned on my tree lights. In the kitchen I turned on the red pepper and scallop shell lights entwined around a shelf. I stood for a while enchanted by how lovely my house looks at night, how warm it is, how perfect for Christmas.

“It’s surprising how much of memory is built around things unnoticed at the time.”

June 22, 2015

The sun is in and out this morning trying to decide what to do. The air is still damp and a bit humid. Right now the sky is dark but the sun is peeking through. Rain is predicted for this afternoon so I’m thinking the sun will disappear for good a bit later.

It is officially summer, and it’s barbecue time. Bring out the ribs, the burgers and the chicken wings then add some sweet summer corn. My home-grown tomatoes are getting bigger on the vine and before too long they’ll be red ripe. July 4th is opening night at the movies. I have three possibilities on the ballot: Independence Day, Jaws and 1776. I’m leaning toward Jaws as it is celebrating its 40th birthday. “We need a bigger boat,” says it all. I have decorations and sparklers and I’m working on the menu. Red, white and blue will carry the day!

Memory is an odd thing. I have vivid memories of my childhood, but I sometimes hunt high and low for where I put my glasses. Some singular moments stand out from all the others, and I don’t know why. They aren’t particularly important moments, but they stay prominent regardless. One memory is silly. I was on the plane to Ghana and we stopped in Madrid. When we got back on the plane, my seatbelt was caught between the seat and the wall so I couldn’t use it. I pretended I was belted when the stewardess went around checking seatbelts. I don’t know why I just didn’t ask for help.

I sat in the back of the room when I was in the sixth grade, but in the front of the room when I was in the eighth. Neither really matters, but I still remember how the rooms looked from each perspective. I remember the candy counter at the movie theater. My favorite nickel bar of candy was a Welch’s Fudge Bar. They aren’t around anymore. My second favorite was a Skybar. You can still buy one of those. The fudge square was my favorite, probably still is. I remember how funny my feet felt in shoes after ice skating. My bologna sandwiches were misshapen because I had to cut pieces from a roll of bologna and some pieces were thick while others were too thin.

I can still close my eyes and see and describe places as they were. I don’t think of it as a trip down memory lane but rather as an adventure back in time.

“Rainy days should be spent at home with a cup of tea and a good book.”

November 7, 2013

I love the sound of rain and today is a good day for a lover of rain. When I woke up, the first sound I heard was rain drops falling on the roof so I stayed in bed a bit longer and listened. Gracie gave me a look but she was too comfortable in bed beside me to move and quickly settled back to sleep. I stayed in bed and read a while but the thought of a fresh cup of coffee and the biscotti I bought yesterday were too enticing so I got up and went downstairs, put the coffee on and went outside to get the papers. The leaves are plastered to my driveway and the street. Pine needles cover the lawn, but the rain is welcomed as it has been so dry.

Yesterday Gracie and I went for one errand then we took a ride down cape. She kept her head out the window surveying the world as we passed. I saw some color, mostly bright red. The ocean was quiet. I stopped at one store and bought a few things, odd things like measuring cups, a scoop and some chutney.

I remember my grammar school classroom on rainy days. The lights hung down from the high ceiling, and in the darkness of the day the room always seemed a bit shadowy despite the banks of windows on the back and one side wall. Rain subdued us. There was none of the shuffling of feet or the rustling of papers. I’d lose myself in the rain, and the sound of the nun’s voice would get further and further away until I didn’t hear it anymore. I’d watch the drops of rain pelt the window and find one drop to watch as it rolled down the window getting smaller and smaller until it finally disappeared then I’d find another drop to watch. I was a long way from school on rainy days.

Today is a stay home day. I have no reason to go anywhere. My bed is already made so I have done all my household chores leaving the rest of the day for reading and maybe napping in the late afternoon. A dark, rainy day seems to lend itself to a nap. I’ll stay in my around the house comfy clothes and slippers. Today sounds perfect.