Posted tagged ‘tin roof’

“Cats have it all – admiration, an endless sleep, and company only when they want it.”

February 5, 2018

My Patriots lost the game. It was heartbreaking. The game, however, was what a Super Bowl should be and was exciting the whole way through. Brady being stripped of the ball was the end of hope. I did wear my new sweatshirt, now relegated to the closet. It is time to bring out my Red Sox garb.

Today is sunny. It would be warm if not for the wind. The top branches of the backyard pines are swaying. I stood outside for a while when I got the papers. The air smelled fresh, even sweet. It was quiet.

Last night it poured. The rain pummeled the roof. I loved it. I even wished I had a tin roof so the sound could surround me the same way it did in Ghana. The rain dissolved the snow. Only the smallest of piles are on the street corners where the plows had left them. They’ll be gone today.

Maddie is sleeping on my sweatshirt on the den table. She followed me to the kitchen meowing at me while I put my coffee on. She wanted a treat. I gave her some roast beef. I think Maddie is deaf. Even when she is near me she never responds to my voice. I could chalk that up to a cat being a cat, but she used to come when I called. She is the soundest sleeper.

When I was in the second grade, I became a brownie. My mother bought me my one piece brown uniform and a darker brown beanie with a dancing brownie on the front. The gold brownie pin was attached to the pocket. I loved wearing that uniform and could even wear it to school instead of my regular uniform when I had a troop meeting. Lots of my friends were brownies too. We all stood taller in our uniforms. We learned to hold up three fingers and recite the brownie pledge. It was always recited with great solemnity. I don’t remember what we did at meetings, but I remember marching in the parade every Memorial Day. It was my proudest moment as a brownie. I also remember telling my parents that everyone was out of step but me.

“I said I was impressed, Martha. I’m beside myself with jealousy. What do you want me to do, throw up?”

July 23, 2013

The paper says thunder showers today, not the probability of showers, but real rain. When I was out on the deck with my coffee and papers, it was humid and thick. I could feel the moisture in the air. Luckily a breeze was strong enough to keep me from wilting. I decided not to bring my  laptop into all that humidity so I came back inside which doesn’t have the benefit of that breeze. The room is close.

The birds flew in and out at the feeders while I was there. Because no birds were at the suet feeder, I checked, and found it empty so I brought out a new cake and filled it. This one is peanut butter. I hope the birds are appreciative. No amorous doings on the deck or in the yard this morning. I do think I saw a red spawn lounging on a limb having a cigarette.

Hyannis will be filled today, and I have a doctor’s appointment there. This is when I wish I was Samantha and could wiggle my nose and be anywhere or had floo powder like the Weasley’s and Harry Potter. One toss in the fireplace, and I’d be there.

The entire neighborhood sounds deserted. I hear a bird now and then but no voices. I wonder where everyone went.

It is getting lighter out so now I’m going to start cursing the Cape Cod Times weatherman. I want that rain and that thunder. I’m hoping I can be outside and stay dry under my umbrella while it rains all around me. I love the sound of rain hitting that umbrella. In Ghana, it was the sound of rain hitting the tin roof of my house and my classrooms. The sound was so loud it made teaching nearly impossible. That is one of my strongest memories of the rainy season in Ghana. It is also one of my favorite.

My friends Bill and Peg are going to Ghana in September, and I am totally jealous. My having been there the last two years doesn’t count. Peg hasn’t been since 1972, but Bill was there on business sometime in the mid 1990,s, but he didn’t make it to Bolga where we all lived. I’ve given them my tour books and my phone, and I’ll give them our students’ numbers. They, as I was, will be surprised by the size of Accra and the huge number of people and how unfamiliar it all looks. Bill has a map from 1970 so he’s going to look for our favorite places and for the Peace Corps hostel which I couldn’t find. He has promised to take pictures. Bolga, though much bigger, will still feel like home to them.

My life has been so amazing yet here I am complaining about staying home this summer. I do have Grace (if she gets her visa) to look forward to in August and Bill and Peg will be down in October. I suppose I’d best stop carping though I am still jealous of Bill and Peg!!

“It is too humid to continue.”

July 10, 2010

The day is dark. It has rained a little, small drops which fell for only a while, disappeared for a bit then fell again. I was outside under the umbrella the whole time and stayed dry. I love the sound of the rain on the umbrella. In Ghana, I loved the sound of the rain on the tin roof. I’d sit on my porch under the overhang to watch the rain fall. It was all around me falling in heavy drops with a bit of lightning for drama. I’d listen to it hitting the roof over my head and never tire of the sound. Sometimes I wish I still had a tin roof.

I hope the rain doesn’t mean my first outdoor movie will have to be postponed.

The air is oppressive right now. It dulls sounds and curtails activity. Not a leaf moves in the thick humidity. I should be hearing lawn mowers and kids’ voices. All I hear are a few birds. It will be a day on the deck with a book and some cold drinks.

This week I lost track of the days. I thought yesterday was Saturday. That confusion happens every once in a while and comes from my not keeping a personal calendar any more. The computer is nice enough to give me a day’s notice if I have an appointment, but beyond that I’m on my own. It used to be I knew it was Sunday when The Amazing Race was on, and that was all I needed to help keep track. Now, baseball is on every night, no help there, but I don’t really care all that much. The day is mine to make of it as I want. That’s good enough.