Posted tagged ‘route 6A’

“Somebody get me a cheeseburger!”

July 28, 2016

The weather has turned me into a hermit. I stay in my cool house and have limited human interactions. The phone doesn’t even ring, and I don’t care. I am quite content as my house has plenty to keep me amused. There are books, TV, the computer, Netflix and a growing pile of magazines and catalogues. I won’t even get dressed today. I will change my bed and consider the day well spent.

I don’t get bored all that often, but I do get restless. Sometimes I need to go somewhere. I need to do something. Often I just take a ride, and that is usually enough. I try to find roads new to me. Lately I have been riding up-cape towards the bridge. I hardly know that area other than the main road. I don’t shop, but I do stop at farm stands. Buying fresh vegetables doesn’t count as shopping.

When I was a kid, about the only fresh vegetable I ate was corn. I wasn’t a fan of tomatoes or cucumbers, zucchini or any sort of bean. Now I love fresh tomatoes and cucumbers. I always stop at little tables outside houses to buy the tomatoes on the honor system. Their taste is sweet, like no other tomato. When I visited my parents, I always brought my dad a bag of local tomatoes. He’d slice them on the plate, add a spoonful of mayonnaise and sit by the TV and eat them. That was his favorite summer snack.

Every day in Ghana, I basically had the same meals. For breakfast I had two eggs over easy and two pieces of toast. They were cooked on a small, round charcoal burner.  I drank coffee with canned milk. For lunch I had a bowl of cut fruit. Depending on the time of year they’d be bananas, oranges, mangoes, pineapple and papaya (paw paw in Ghana). Dinner was a starch like rice or yams and some meat. In September and October it was FraFra potatoes, a locally grown small potato. The meat was usually beef and was always cooked in a sauce, a tomato sauce with onions. It had to be cooked that way as the meat was always tough. We’d sometimes have chicken for dinner, one we’d buy live at the market.

One year the rains were late. We ate rice every night. It was stuffed peppers with rice. I had brought Bell pepper seeds from home, and they were grown in the school garden. No Ghanaian liked them. They weren’t hot. We, my two friends and I, bought all of them and had them for dinner over and over again during that extended dry season. I got so sick of rice I didn’t eat it for the longest time after I got home. I still don’t eat it much unless it’s fried rice.

“No decision should be made on an empty shopping bag.”

November 22, 2015

It was rain I first heard when I woke up. The drops were falling from the roof to the overhang, and their rhythmic sound lulled me right back to sleep for another hour. When I woke up the second time, the rain had stopped so I went out and got the papers and yesterday’s mail. Since then the rain has come and gone a few times. When I hear the drips, I know.

Gracie and I shopped yesterday. It was the perfect day to be around and about. We went down 6A, one of the prettiest of all routes to take. I stopped at the Brewster Book Store. It hasn’t ever disappointed me. I bought books for the grand-niece and nephews for Christmas and a few neat little things for their Christmas bags from me including head lamps, rubber duckies, small wooden trucks and a doll. I was tempted to buy myself a book, and I did look, but I have a rule about not buying myself stuff around Christmas so I dragged myself backed to the car. Our next stop was a small bakery. I bought dessert for tonight, game night, chocolate peanut butter brownies, and a lemon square for me to eat as we went along. It was so good I almost went back for another. I still wish I had. Gracie and I stopped at a couple of my favorite shops where I bought a few more small things for stockings, and that was it.

When my parents shopped for Christmas, they hid the toys in a variety of places where we seldom ventured. One was the attic. A small staircase came down so you get up in it, but the attic wasn’t finished. It was just beams from one end to the other with insulation in between. I remember one year I woke up when they were taking things down from there. It was a musical toy I heard. I was beyond Santa by then so I wasn’t shocked, but I was curious. They made a couple of trips back and forth to the living room then they turned off the hall light so I knew they were done. I sneaked downstairs to watch. I never got caught. Another hiding spot was the closet across from the cellar door. My mother kept her ironing board, iron and cleaning supplies there. I happened upon a few Christmas presents hidden there one year. I was never one to hunt for them. I preferred the surprise, but this find was serendipitous. Three of them were books for me. I sneaked and read one of them but pretended surprise when I saw them Christmas morning.

I keep all the gifts I have out in the open except for Gracie’s. She found hers on the spare room bed one year and ate all the treats. Now I hide them.

“Swinging on delicate hinges the Autumn Leaf Almost off the stem”

October 24, 2011

The morning has a crispness. The grass was wet when I went to get the papers. Across the street, painters are working on my neighbors’ house trim. It’s sunny but not warm. It is, after all, fall.

The birds need feeding. I miss watching them from my window here in the den. Their latest seeds of choice have been a mixture of fruits and nuts, and I have only a small bit left. Tomorrow, at Agway’s, I’ll have to buy more and also another case of canned dog food. I might also mosey over to their garden section and buy some bulbs. Last year the spawns of Satan found many of my new ones in less than a day. My garden was pockmarked with holes. It looked a bit like the lunar surface.

A former students is coming to visit from Thursday through Tuesday. She has been in Cincinnati with her daughter so we missed each other in Bolga. Her name is Francisca Issaka, and she was one of my favorite students. She and Francisca Ateere, another favorite, often visited my house. I remember how much they laughed and how much they enjoyed life. Both of them were sixteen when I first met them. They were the students I told all about Halloween during one of their visits, and they remembered and came trick or treating. Francisca still remembers and said she wants to be at my house for Halloween. On Sunday she is cooking a Ghanaian meal for my friends and my nephews. We are not having bush meat or goat though I wouldn’t mind either. My sister was appalled that I eat goat. She talked about The Lonely Goat Herd and the Billy Goats Gruff. I didn’t think about it, but I should have reminded her about Ferdinand the Bull.

Today I have one errand then Gracie and I are going roaming. I’m taking my camera as it has been a long while since I’ve snapped pictures of the cape, and I think it is especially pretty this time of year. I never really noticed the fall changes until my first year home from Africa. I always thought the cape this time of year was a bit dull compared to the rest of the state as there are so many pine trees which just stay green. I was wrong. The marshes turn a beautiful red, and up and down Route 6A towering, long standing trees turn a different color red than the marshes, and here and there are spots of yellow. The bogs are flooded to spare them the worst of winter. Bushes are bright with color and stand in contrast to their old white houses. The cape is an amazing place in the fall.