Posted tagged ‘sun’
May 7, 2015
We have had such beautiful days, warm days, short-sleeve shirt days. The sun is even so bright it makes me squint. By the afternoon the sun has made its way around the house to the back so I go and sit on the deck to take in the warmth. Gracie stands beside my chair and watches the birds until she gets sleepy and lies down for a nap in the sun.
Yesterday I was sitting at a red light when I noticed a hawk high above me riding the thermals in ever smaller circles. I got lost in the hawk, and it took a honk from the driver behind me to bring me back to the now green light.
I have seen foxes, rabbits, coyotes, wild turkeys, deer, skunks, opossums and the common raccoon around here where I live. Actually it was only one deer which ran across the road in front of my car just down the street from my house. I pulled over to watch until it disappeared near the power lines.
I don’t remember seeing many animals when I was a kid even though we spent a lot of time roaming the woods. I remember snakes the most. They seemed to be everywhere. They were, for the most part, garter snakes. We’d pick them up just to check them out, but we never hurt them and we always let them go. They’d slither so fast when freed they seemed to disappear. I can’t remember the last time I saw a snake around here.
I liked scary when I was a kid. I don’t mean afraid. I never wanted to be afraid. Scary was mostly a product of my imagination when I heard footsteps behind me or that hook scratching the screen. Scary made me giggle a little, a sort of defensive reaction to prove I wasn’t really scared. Once, when I was an adult, my dog Maggie, another boxer, woke me from a sound sleep when she leapt out of bed, stood at the top of the stairs and barked her fiercest bark several times but then she just turned around, jumped back on the bed and went to sleep. I wasn’t as fortunate as it took me a while to calm down enough to go back to sleep. I wasn’t sure what to think about Maggie’s barking. Maybe she had a nightmare was one thought, but I didn’t really think so because she usually just sort of barked in her sleep when she was dreaming. I really believed she heard something, something loud enough to put her on alert. Whatever it was left because of Maggie’s deep, fierce barking. She was my protector, and I was really glad to have her. Gracie has that role now, and she is great at her job.
Categories: Musings
Tags: beautiful day, Coyote, deck, footsteps, fox, hawk, opossums, rabbits, riding the thermals, scary, snakes, sun, the hook, turkeys
Comments: 8 Comments
April 18, 2015
Today smells like fresh earth. It smells like grass. The air is warm. The sun is bright. I keep going outside to the deck drawn by the warmth. Gracie has been out all morning mostly lying in the sun. Off in the distance is the sound of a leaf blower cleaning winter away. I think today is glorious.
The sun has made me energetic. I have completed and crossed off chores on the list for weeks. I am even getting closer to tackling the cabinet under the counter. I am curious as to what lies hidden there. I know there must be mice nests as I found some the last time I cleaned the cabinet, and I also found their cache of rice. I am on the hunt for a special baking pan long-lost in the Bermuda Triangle of my cabinet.
When I was young, I confronted noises. “Come out. Come out. I know you’re there,” I’d yell, but the last thing I wanted was for anyone or, even worse, for something to come out of the darkness. My bravery was bravado. I had this idea that by yelling I’d scare away whatever was making the noise. Nothing ever came after me. I figured I’d scared them or it. The older me knew better. Nothing was really there.
In the summer we could play outside even when it got dark. The street light rule was no longer in effect. We had to stay in the neighborhood, but our neighborhood was filled with wonderful places and so much to do. Hide and seek was even more fun in the dark. Sometimes we’d jump out at the seeker and scare him or her half to death. The more the seeker yelled in fright the more fun it was for us. Kids do have a bit of a sadistic streak.
Being a kid meant taking each day as it came. Saturday was the day filled with the most possibilities. We could go to the movies or ride our bikes or walk the tracks. We could catch grasshoppers in the field or watch the polliwogs in the swamp. We’d decide on Saturday morning. Planning is never a kid thing. Life is so much easier without a calendar waiting to be filled.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bravado, cleaning the cabinet, come out, darkness and the summer, doing chores, fresh air, glorious day, Leaf blower, noises, sacred, Saturday, sun, warmth
Comments: 14 Comments
April 11, 2015
When I woke up, I noticed the sun, subdued and wan. I figured it had been so long since the sun last shined it had forgotten how to wow us, to make us squint in the light. The streets were still wet and were waiting for a bit of warmth to dry three days of rain, and I was hopeful the sun could finally hold sway. After getting the papers, I stood outside to check my garden. Green shoots are everywhere. They are the start of my spring bulbs finally growing and budding. Gracie has been in the yard most of the morning. She is my barometer. The warmer the weather the longer she is out.
When I was a kid, this was a bicycle day, a spring jacket sort of day. It was freedom from layers of clothing and from looking wistfully out the picture window. It was time to fly my bike down the hill with my hair blowing and my arms raised in a funny sort of triumph. It was time to pedal as fast as I could hoping to leave winter behind me.
I loved riding all over town on a sunny Saturday. Sometimes I’d bring lunch and put it in my bike’s big front basket. Once in a while I’d hit a bump and my lunch bag would bounce in the basket. Sometimes it bounced out. I usually brought Oreos for dessert. They were the cookies of choice for all of us. I remember my sisters would eat the middle and give the dog the rest. My method was a bit different. I’d open the Oreo, eat the plain side then the filling then the other side with streaks of filling still left.
Last night I watched the Sox beat the Yankees in a game which seemed interminable. It lasted 19 innings, 6 hours and 49 minutes, and is now the longest game in Red Sox history. I’d tell myself I’m going to bed after this inning, but I just couldn’t bring myself to turn off the TV. What if I miss the winning run after all this time? Both teams were horrible last year. The Yanks didn’t make the playoffs and the Sox were last, but they seem to play each other as if a championship is on the line. During extra innings, when a Sox player got on base, I’d beg for someone to hit him in so I could go to bed. Finally a Mookie Betts sacrifice fly knocked in the winning run. I cheered then held my breath during the bottom half of the inning. The Yanks didn’t score so I let the dog out, waited for her to come in, turned off the lights and went to bed.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 19 innings, 6 hours, barometer, dry air, green shoots front garden, longest game, lunch bag, oreos, Red Sox, riding all over town, sandwich, spring bulbs, spring jacket day, sun, three days of rain, wet streets, Yankees
Comments: 25 Comments
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
April 4, 2015
We had more rain this morning then the sun came out for a while then it disappeared behind the clouds and the sky got darker. The sun made an attempt to reappeared but in a poof was gone again but only for a bit. The sun is now brightly shining in all its glory. The sky is blue and the clouds are gone. The sun has won the day in a spectacular fashion. It is even warm outside. My heat hasn’t come on all morning. Today I’m doing Easter things. I have a few eggs I’m going to color and a couple of baskets to fill.
At Christmas time we had Santa Claus to keep us on the straight and narrow. We didn’t dare cross the line for fear of getting coal in our stockings. The days before Christmas always felt interminable. Christmas Eve was really three days long. Falling asleep on Christmas Eve took forever, but then we woke to Christmas morning, the best morning of the year.
Easter didn’t have the giddy anticipation we gave to Christmas. We had nothing to lose being bad because Easter didn’t have the watchful eyes of Santa Claus or the dire consequences of being bad. The Easter Bunny didn’t seem to care so my mother had no threats to hold over us. We fought like usual and got yelled at the same as we always did.
Easter egg hunts were one of the fun parts of Easter. I remember a giant egg hunt in the field below our houses. All the kids in the neighborhood took part. We carried little baskets to hold our eggs. I remember finding a few here and there and one golden egg, but I gave it no mind and kept looking. At the end of the hunt I found out it was the prize egg. Inside was a dollar bill. This was when a penny had value and a nickel or a dime was wealth. A dollar was a king’s ransom.
The night before Easter was for egg coloring. My mother hard-boiled them, put newspapers on the table and filled paper cups with colored water from packets of dye. We used spoons to put the eggs in the colors and we’d roll the eggs all around so they’d get darker. My mother would display them on the table during Easter dinner. The week after Easter we’d always get colored eggs in our lunch boxes.
My mother would lay out our new Easter clothes on Saturday night. I loved getting new shoes for Easter because usually I only got new ones when the old ones gave up the ghost. We took baths, it was after all Saturday night, watched a little TV, went to bed and fell asleep. In the morning the baskets were on the kitchen table or on our bureaus or even in the living room. We’d eat some chocolate as we’d look through our baskets. That was always our Easter morning breakfast.
We’d go to church where every kid was dressed in new Easter clothes. The colors were light like a spring morning. I swear every Easter was warm and lovely. In the afternoon, after dinner, we’d go to my grandparents’ house in the city. My million or so cousins were also there. My grandmother had chocolate rabbits for us all.
On the way home, I always fell asleep.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Christmas, coloring eggs, dark sky, Easter, Easter clothes, Easter egg hunts, new shoes, rain, Santa Claus, sun, warm day
Comments: 10 Comments
February 14, 2015
When I first woke up, it was 7 o’clock, and I could see sun and blue sky outside my window. I smiled, turned over and went back to sleep. The second time I awakened it was 8:30. The sun was gone as was the blue. Today is now like all the other days: grey and cold and uninviting. The snow will start tonight and come in waves. The biggest wave is due tomorrow.
Now where would I be if I could be somewhere else? Much as I love Ghana, the 100˚+ degrees is just our weather turned inside out. Back to Morocco is a possibility. It is winter there but a sweater is enough. I remember the colors in the spice market, the aromas of meat cooking and glasses of mint tea. Colorful rugs hung from balconies. Cranes nested. Okay, Morocco is definitely on the list, but then again perhaps it should be where I haven’t been. I love exploring new places and being by myself never matters. All of the sights and sounds become fodder for my journal, my hand written journal. The markets are for losing myself, for following unfamiliar paths. They are the places for discovery. That restaurant in Marrakech in a garden at the back of the furniture store is one of favorite finds, but I had help. A small boy led me there.
Asia comes to mind. I want off the beaten path, maybe Laos, Nepal or Myanmar if it gets its act together.
My family worries when I travel alone, but they don’t share that with me. They know I’d pooh-pooh the notion. My brother-in-law was the designated rescuer when I was in Morocco. He would fly there and accompany me and my injuries home. They were thinking broken leg. I didn’t even get a scratch.
I don’t ever mind getting lost as there are discoveries to unearth and I know I’ll always find my way.
Categories: Musings
Tags: blue sky, Discovery, following the unfamiliar, garden restaurant, getting lost, grey day, markets, Morocco, Snow, sun, traveling, uninviting day
Comments: 8 Comments
February 13, 2015
Run, run for your lives! The world is coming to an end. A bright orb framed by azure has appeared in the sky. Its light is so dazzling I have to cover my eyes. I think it must be aflame.
A slight exaggeration perhaps but the sun has actually appeared, the first time in a couple of weeks or maybe years. I forget. I lost track. Today, though, is freezing cold. The sun is but a ruse. The prediction is 12˚ for the daytime high and 6˚ for tonight. When I went outside to get the papers, the cold took my breath away.
Last night we had a dusting, just enough to cover the car windows, the steps and the walkway. Before I went to bed I threw de-icer on the dog’s steps so they were clear for her this morning. Did I think of front steps? Of course not. I will walk gingerly.
A huge storm is coming tomorrow night. I just shrugged my shoulders at the news and went about my business. We have all become so inured to snow I lost my interest about 6 inches ago. The weatherman says 12+, but he has no idea what the + means in inches of snow. I figure it doesn’t matter.
My usual optimism is a bit buried. I have become indifferent. I am easily bored and drift from one thing to another. I read a bit, watch some TV, play backgammon on-line, clean a little and finally take a nap, exhausted by ennui.
I have to go out later. Gracie needs a few more cans of dog food to last through the storm. I need bread, not the pre-storm rush to buy bread, just bread. Chinese food has been on my mind so I’m thinking I’ll get dinner. I’m also thinking the bakery and a whoopie pie. Nothing blasts away indifference like chocolate.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 12+ inches of snow, 12˚, azure sky, big storm, bored, buying bread, chinese food, dog food, dusting of snow, ennui, freezing cold, sun, Whoopie pie
Comments: 16 Comments
January 16, 2015
When I got up during the night, I swear I saw stars, and was delighted, I stood at the window a while just looking. When I woke up, it was cloudy, and I wanted to scream. Right now, though, the sun is making an appearance, and off to the west are patches of blue sky. I can barely contain my excitement.
Gracie woke me up around 6:30. She wanted out, but when she got on the deck, she couldn’t get down the stairs. They had a topping of ice from the dusting of snow we got yesterday. I put on my shoes and walked her to the yard down the stairs step by step. If the poor dog only knew. Here I was her safety net, and I fall all the time. Luckily this time I didn’t. Before I went back to bed, I threw safety paws de-icer on the steps and also noticed where Gracie had been sick a few times. I won’t get into a description, but I think whatever had been bothering her was on her crate blanket which is now washed and in the dryer. Gracie is back to her always happy self.
In the old days we didn’t take our dog to the vet’s except to get the rabies shot required by law. There was no well dog visit back then. Duke, the boxer we had while I was growing up, was a terror to other dogs, but he met his match once and his neck was torn open. My dad said nature would take care of it. My mother sneaked Duke to the vet’s who took care of it. The dog’s wounds healed, and my father gloated a bit with his I told you so. We all just looked at each other and said nothing.
We pulled many fast ones on my poor dad. My mother would come and visit me, and we’d shop. She’d fill her trunk with boxes and bags. When she got home, she’d bring in two or three packages and show my father what she’d bought. He’d nod but actually be totally uninterested. Shopping was hell on Earth to him. When my dad went to work on Monday, my mother would empty the trunk. My dad never noticed anything new in the house. His spot was at the end of the couch next to the table. That was his little kingdom and nothing there ever changed. He was content.
We knew never to tell my dad some of the ingredients in the dishes he was served for dinner. He would refuse to eat them if he knew. Garlic, according to my dad, was to be used for garlic bread and shrimp scampi. It had no other uses. Little did he know he often ate it in a variety of dishes. He did catch my mother putting it in slits in a pork roast and was horrified. My mother took out all the garlic. My father had eaten that pork roast with garlic several times. He just didn’t see it.
My father used his eyes to determine whether or not a dish could be eaten. Hummus was wallpaper paste. He knew that without trying it. Just looking was enough. It was a huge no on potstickers and anything my mother made for my brother, the vegetarian. My father was the original meat and potatoes man with a few vegetables tossed in like carrots, canned asparagus and corn, either fresh or canned. My dad actually ate a huge variety of things. He just never knew.
Categories: Musings
Tags: blue sky, dog fight, Duke, duping my dad, Garlic, Gracie, gross, happy dog, hell on earth, hiding ingredients, my dad, safety dog de-icer, Shopping, sick to her stomach, stars, sun, vets, washing dog mats and pillows
Comments: 18 Comments
December 11, 2014
I may have seen the sun a bit earlier, but I can’t be sure. It’s not raining-that much I can say with certainty. I watched Gracie from the back door after I let her out and noticed birds in the side yard and one woodpecker on my back step. The birds were juncos, and there were many. I had a mixed seed bag so I threw some into the yard in case the juncos come back. They haven’t been around much so I figured I’d give them some incentive. Today is a one errand day, for dog food, and a wrap like crazy day. I need to get the Colorado gifts wending their way westward.
The old tinsel controversy has reared its head. My family called the silvery garlands tinsel. They were wound around the tree and draped for effect. We also had a red tinsel garland and a construction paper one we had made once. It was the worst for wear, but it was part of the tree tradition. The tinsel was put on the tree just after the lights. My mother did the honors as she knew exactly how the tinsel should look from branch to branch. The ornaments were next. The big breakables were put around the top by my mother. We always thought of them as the fancy ornaments, the untouchables. We all put on the rest of the ornaments including the small glass ones. I have some of those and I have one fancy ornament. My mother gave each of us a box filled with the ornaments of our childhood including one fancy ornament I still put high up on the tree. Last of all to be put on the tree were the icicles. We’d each take a handful and drape one at a time on a branch. After a while draping became boring, and mayhem ensued. We’d take handfuls and toss them on the tree to get rid of our piles. My mother would yell,”One at a time. One at a time.” We didn’t care. We were lost in the throwing frenzy. Finally my mother stopped us and took all our icicles. She then removed the piles on the branches and put the icicles on the tree one at a time. We watched television.
Now, were they icicles or were they tinsel? What about the garlands? Were they tinsel too? I say there is no question, no confusion. Those silvery strands were icicles because that’s what they looked like hanging from the branches. They looked like the real icicles which hung from the edges of our roof. I do admit the real ones never hung in clumps.
Categories: Musings
Tags: birds, construction paper garland, fancy ornaments, garland, gifts, icicles, ornaments, piles of icicles, sun, tinsel, tinsel garlands, tree decorating, UPS, wrapping presents
Comments: 16 Comments
September 26, 2014
The rain fell for most of the night, but it wasn’t nearly enough to wash away the drought. The sky is still cloudy and the day is dark though the sun is supposed to make an entrance later, hang around for a while and give tomorrow some summer warmth. I’m thinking it may be warm enough for the last movie on the deck night.
When I was a kid, I was not a girly girl. My sisters were. They played with dolls, wore dresses with pouffy slips underneath and loved hats and patent leather shoes. I didn’t. I wore skirts and blouses when I was forced to get dressed-up and had to wear them to school and church. Slacks and sometimes sweaters were my weekends and after school ensembles. I went through the wearing the cardigan backwards fashion craze. I suppose that made me a bit stylish or at least current. I remember stretch slacks with the loops on the bottoms for your feet. They were popular for a while, and I got a pair for Christmas one year. I also got a pink fuzzy sweater the same year. They too were popular. I loved that outfit and wore it until the fuzz disappeared.
I don’t get dressed up much any more. I wear nice pants and blouses or shirts when I go out. If it is somewhere special, I pull out one of my three dresses. Because my entire professional career was spent in dresses or skirts, I figure I’m entitled to wear what I want. I do make sure everything complements each other so I’m never messy or odd, just comfortable.
I think there is magic age where you can mix and match whatever you want. That black and white striped shirt is just fine with the yellow plaid capri pants, the blue ankle socks and the white sneakers with velcro. You just have to be old enough to pull it off.
Categories: Musings
Tags: backwards cardigans, cloudy, comfortable, dark, deck movie, Dresses, fuzzy sweaters, looped pants, patent rather shoes, pouffy slips, rain, skirts, sun, warm day
Comments: 8 Comments