Posted tagged ‘warm day’
June 12, 2015
The morning is lovely. Earlier I met friends for breakfast at a spot on the water. To get there I took the long way around on the road which hugged the seashore. The houses along the sides of the road are big and beautiful with gardens to match. A couple of the bigger houses are well hidden behind high bushes. Some are gated.
As there is no breeze for a change, the water was still. The fog was thick enough to hide the ocean beyond the breakwater. When I arrived at the restaurant, it was high tide, and I could smell the salt water. I took in deep breaths as if to memorize the smell. Boats came and left by way of the channel. One excursion boat was filled with kids in life jackets, a school group we guessed. Good for them! It is a perfect day to be on the water.
The sun is shining, and it is already warm, 76˚. After today, though, the days will be cooler, and even a couple of nights will dip to the 50’s. The weekend will be dry. June on Cape Cod is unpredictable.
Today all is quiet. Not a lawnmower or blower disturbs the songs of birds. This room is still shaded and cool. The sun won’t be here until the late afternoon.
I am barefooted. That is the summer standard in the house and on the deck. When I was a kid, I went barefooted all the time. My feet were calloused and even the hot sidewalks had no effect. I loved the feel of cool grass between my toes. In Ghana I wore sandals all the time, but my feet still each became a giant callous impervious to everything including a lit match. Why a lit match? It was a test, a silly test, to determine exactly how tough my feet had become. The match did not even bother me at all.
I have a couple of places I need to go, but I am reluctant to leave the cool house for the hot, busy road. I guess, though. I’ll just have to bite the bullet.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 76˚, bite the bullet, breakfast, breakwater, calloused feet, channel, cool nights, fog, going barefoot, grass between your toes, natural sounds, quoet day, salt water, smell of the ocean, still ocean, warm day
Comments: 17 Comments
May 26, 2015
Today, according to the paper, will be a warm one, in the 70’s. I, however, am a bit skeptical as the clouds have obscured the sun, and there is a stiff breeze. My list is long today. I have several places to go. Yesterday I bought herbs and perennials and a few tomatoes. I wanted more veggies, but there were none, all had been sold. I’ll try a couple of other garden centers hoping to find my snap peas.
Lots of people were down for the weekend. The line to go off cape was miles long, but the wait was not unexpected. It happens every Sunday and turnover Saturdays until Labor Day. The sun and surf carry a big price.
I never cared whether or not we went on vacation. Saturday night was usually the drive-in and Sunday the beach. We went to Maine a few times and stayed at my father’s friend’s cottage, the tiniest place ever. Beds were build-in wherever there was space so the place could sleep 10 or 12 people. On both sides of the cottage, the nearest neighbors were within spitting distance. The water was too cold for swimming. There was really nothing for me to do. It was my least favorite vacation spot, but it was free so I was stuck.
We never came down the cape. We went north. I remember seeing the Old Man of the Mountain, now gone, the flume and the top of Mount Washington. My dad drove our car up he mountain on what I thought was a really narrow road. We were on the outside and there were no rails. I could see right down the mountain, but what I remember most is how cold it was on the top of Mount Washington ever though it was summer. I think we did that trip in a day.
There was a lake we went to which had a slide into the water, a regular slide, nothing fancy, and a zip line you held onto with both hands. I don’t remember the name of the lake, but we it was always a day trip. I liked lake water. It was always warm, and if I happened to swallow some water, it wasn’t gross like salt water. We would swim almost for the whole day stopping only for lunch and then the hour wait so we wouldn’t die of cramps.
It never occurred to me that we seldom went away. Summers always seemed busy. We had that one huge trip to Niagara Falls, but that was it. I still remember every stop on that trip. It must have taken my parents a long time to save enough money. I remember it as my first visit to a foreign country.
Categories: Musings
Tags: errands, lakes, long lines, Maine, Mount Washington, Niagara Falls, Old Man of the Muntain, plants, spitting distance, the flume, tiny house, vacations, warm day, weekend crowd
Comments: 10 Comments
May 8, 2015
My windows have been opened to bring inside the sweetness of spring and to rid the house of the closed smell of winter. Through those opened windows I get to hear the birds and be serenaded by their songs, sounds muted in the house during winter. This morning I was awake at dawn for a bit and could hear the mighty chorus of birds greeting the day; however, with the temperature going down to the 40’s tonight, I’ll have no choice but to shut the windows as the day starts to close and the sun dips behind the trees.
A long missing sock has returned home. It is red and one half of a favorite pair. The other red sock sat on the dryer all this time so I’d know where it was just in case its mate returned, but I admit I wasn’t hopeful. I went to get a sweatshirt this morning and pulled out one I haven’t worn in a while, a favorite sweatshirt, a Doctor Who sweatshirt. When I put it on, the sock popped out of the hood. Now I have a reunited pair of favorite socks.
When I was a kid, I didn’t really care if my socks matched. I just wanted one for each foot and just about any socks would do. I didn’t have fashion sense. It never even occurred to me there was a method to choosing clothes. I’d wear my girl jeans forever as they were comfortable and warm. Girl jeans were the ones with the zipper in the pocket. Back then that wasn’t the only difference between girls’ and boys’ clothes. Girls never wore shirts but rather blouses which always looked like shirts to me so I was a bit baffled. I know girls’ shirts have buttons on the left side while boys’ have buttons on the right. I looked it up just now and found that the reason dated back at least a century. Because men dressed themselves and most were right -handed, that’s where the buttons went, but servants dress the women and stood in front to button the frocks so left-side buttons made for easy buttoning. Sneakers too were different. Boys had high tops while my sneakers were low tops but both were usually Keds. I never wore a jersey, but my brother often did. His looked like Beaver Cleaver’s, usually long sleeve and striped. I did have one summer advantage, sleeve-less blouses.
Fashion has changed dramatically, and I couldn’t be happier. I don’t have to wear classic old lady clothes. They don’t exist anymore. Come to think of it, neither do old ladies.
Categories: Musings
Tags: blouses, buttons, chorus of birds, cold night, fashion sense, girl jeans, jersey, missing sock, opened windows, shirts, sneakers, sweetness of spring, warm day
Comments: 19 Comments
May 4, 2015
Today is one of those spring days when outside is warmer than inside. The day is absolutely gorgeous. It is warm, even t-shirt warm, while the house is still sweatshirt chilly. I’m hitting the deck as soon as I finish here.
Every Monday at ten o’clock I visit my neighbor who is Brazilian. Niecy and I just chat so that she can improve her conversational English. She offered to pay me but I refused. She is my neighbor after all, and it’s fun just sitting and chatting. Sometimes I even think we should be sharing tea and cucumber sandwiches.
The week is a quiet one for me but then again most weeks are. I have all this time on my hands, and I find ways to keep busy but most times it’s reading or cleaning or even taking a nap. I don’t go out much, but I’m fine with that. Gracie and I did take a ride the other day after the dump run, and I bought myself my favorite sandwich to eat at home which, I know, doesn’t sound all that exciting, but I enjoyed every minute of the ride and the sandwich. It doesn’t take much to make me happy.
Last night I watched The Man from U.N.C.L.E., an episode filmed in 1965. The girls’ sort of slinky dresses, the guys’ skinny ties and the swim were all part of one scene. I know I must have worn the same type clothes and danced in the same way, but it made me laugh anyway. The swim has to be one of the silliest dances.
Color has returned to the world. We are over the rainbow, no more Kansas. My spring flowers have all bloomed, and my neighbor’s front garden is filled with tulips of all colors. All the forsythia in the different yards is still bright and eye-catching. Even the male goldfinch is back to being bright yellow or gold I suppose. I can see buds and some leaves on a few of the trees. It is time for me to start wearing my bright colors, to start wearing spring.
Categories: Musings
Tags: chatting, colorful world, favorite sandwich, Over the Rainbow, ride, skinny ties, staying home, t-shirt weather, tea and cucumber sandwiches, The Man from U.N.C.L.E., the swim, warm day
Comments: 16 Comments
April 21, 2015
Today is cloudy, but the day is so light the sun must be hidden behind the grey. Earlier, morning fog covered all the bushes and the lower branches of the trees. It’s warm, far warmer than I expected. Despite the clouds, I think it’s a nice day. The street cleaner rumbled by a couple of times sweeping the winter storm sand to the sides of the street. It is not a quiet truck.
My morning routine seldom differs. I wake up whenever, feed the cats, let the dog out, put the coffee on, go out and get the papers and yesterday’s mail, give Gracie her morning treats then grab a cup of coffee and settle in with the papers. I like my mornings.
No matter where I am, the mornings are different from the rest of the day. If I’m on a trip, I love to get up really early and wander the streets. I get to watch the day unfold. People sweep. Shopkeepers wear white aprons and have long-handled brooms. Africans wear colorful cloths and have hard grass brooms with no handles. They have to bend to use them. In cities, trucks stop in streets to unload goods for stores and restaurants. In one hotel my room’s window faced a side street where the trucks parked. They were my wake-up call every morning. In Santa Fe I sat on a bench and watched the Indians set up their wares while I munched on pastry and drank coffee. It was so early the square was empty of other people. At Gettysburg, I was awake before the park opened so I waited and was the first that morning to wander the battlefield. It was covered in ground fog. It was quiet as befitting a memorial.
Early mornings here on the Cape are quiet in the summer. The tourists are late risers. I sometimes go out to breakfast but most times I get coffee and take a ride. I watch quahoggers raking the river bottom while seagulls swoop and fly in circles over their heads hoping for a handout. Seagulls are always loud.
I know I’ve told you before, but I love African mornings most of all. They are filled with the smells of charcoal fires and the sounds of women pounding their mortar with pestles to make fufu. The sound is rhythmic. Everyone is up early in Ghana, even I was. I hated to miss any part of the morning.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Africa, African mornings, Cape mornings, charcoal fires, cloudy, daily routine, foggy, Gettysburg, morning air, mornings, people sweeping, quahogging, Santa Fe, trucks, warm day
Comments: 33 Comments
April 17, 2015
We have rain, but the day is still warm. I consider anything over 50˚ warm. Gracie balked at going out this morning, but I told her to bite the bullet and she did and went out. I can’t remember the last time I heard anyone say bite the bullet but oddly enough it was a fill-in for the Globe crossword puzzle this morning. Strange coincidence.
We played outside all summer. In the cooler afternoons we usually played whole group games on the grass behind our houses. Anybody could play. Other than in red rover, age and size made no difference. It was the only time the big kids and the little kids played together.
Olly olly oxen free meant we could get out of hiding as somebody else had been found and was now it. The seeker was always called it. I have no idea why. Both were just parts of the game of hide and seek. I did look it up this morning out of curiosity and I found the all call possibly originates from the German phrase “alle alle auch sind frei,” which loosely translated means “everyone is also free.” Mispronunciation by non-German children probably became “olly olly oxen free.” It doesn’t make sense but we never noticed. Olly olly oxen free was just what you said.
We also played red rover. The key was in picking the right team. The stronger the team, the better the chances. We’d stand in a line holding hands or even arm to arm and call the other team, “Red rover, red rover send Kat right over.” My job would be to break through the line. If I didn’t, they got me for their team. If I got through, my team got someone from theirs. I always looked for the weakest link, the smallest kid. We all did.
We also played stair ball or stoop ball if you lived in the city. Your team was spread into the street. The batter, loosely used here to designate a position, threw the rubber ball against the steps. He was out if it was caught but got bases if it went over the fielders’ heads. The problem was deciding how many bases the hit was worth. We used the stairs at the end of our walkway. They led to the street. They were perfect for stair ball.
Blind man’s bluff was another game we played. The person who was it got blindfolded. The game was really tag with a twist. It was never easy though we were limited about moving. We sometimes talked, and that gave away our position.
It’s amazing that the games are played just like their names, other than red rover and maybe Simon says. Dodgeball and kickball are other games whose names tells you right away the object of the games, the same with follow the leader.
I noticed that rock-paper-scissors has been used lately on TV. It was our favorite way to make decisions when I was a kid. I remember if I lost I always wanted two out of three. Big surprise, the winner always said no.
Categories: Musings
Tags: hide and seeker's rover, Olly olly oxen free, playing outside, rain, red rover red rover, rock-paper-scissors, stoop ball, warm day, you're it
Comments: 8 Comments
April 12, 2015
Today is glorious. The sun is bright, the sky a lovely dark blue and it’s warm, in the mid 50’s. The morning is loud with the songs of birds. I stopped out front with papers in hand just to smell the sweet spring scented air. The daffodil buds are bigger, closer to blooming. Purple croci have bloomed in the front. I swear my grass has shoots of green instead of just winter brown. I finally believe in spring.
The Globe had a column this morning in the travel pages about a woman who went to Togo to visit her Peace Corps son. She described where it was in West Africa, that it is a Francophone country and you spend French African francs (CFA). She was struck by the poverty, the trash and the lack of infrastructure. Many of the roads are unpaved red dirt which covers you and everything you’re carrying in red dust when your bush taxi takes you away from the coast. She went to the Grand Marché In Lome and described it just as I remember it. The building is concrete. The cloth market is on an upper floor. On the bottom floors are the food markets. The Grand Marché was always one of my stops during my frequent visits to Togo, an easy bus ride from Accra along the coast. You rode to the border at Aflao, got off the bus and walked across to Togo under an arch which says Bye-Bye Safe Journey. The other side of the arch says Welcome to Ghana.
In Lome I ate ice cream and pastries and rock lobsters from a grill on a hotel’s patio. I ordered bifteck and pomme fries using my halting high school French. I burned the bottoms of my feet running on the hot beach sand. Once I was swimming and a dead pig floated beside me. I took my life into my hands by renting a moped and driving on the crowded city roads. I went up-country on local busses.
I never thought of living in Africa as an adventure. It was home for 27 months, and always felt comfortable. I was never lost but easily found my way from one place to another. My French got better, and I could give or ask for directions, order more than steak and French fries and bargain in the market in French. Without realizing it, I became a traveler. That has held me in good stead all of my life.
Categories: Musings
Tags: beautiful day, Crocus, daffodil, Francophone country, Grand Marché, living in Africa, Lome, loud with birds, sunny, Togo, warm day
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
December 28, 2014
The rain is back, but it’s a light rain, a tolerable rain. The day is warmer than expected. Gracie and I are going to the dump later. I also need to hit the store for a few essentials like cream for my coffee and bread. Gracie has only one can of dog food left so I’ll stop at Agway. I am not in an errand mood.
Decorating the house for Christmas is fun, filled with anticipation and memories of Christmases past. Cherished ornaments take their places in the front of the tree, and I move them around until they are just right. The tree is most beautiful at night with its lights brightening the room and reflecting in window panes. Soon enough, though, it will be time to take down Christmas. I usually do it all in one day as I don’t want remnants of Christmas hanging around, too much regret at its passing. Once I’m finished and Christmas is back in the cellar the rooms look bland. The only lights which stay all year are in the windows and in the kitchen where the shell lights and the pepper bunch light up the whole corner. After New Year’s is take down day.
I love the syfy channel, and I love comically bad movies, but sometimes my suspension of disbelief just can’t fight the absurdity. Cars chase running people who stay in the middle of the road. Veering toward a sidewalk between parked cars is never given a thought. Standing and watching a car flying right at you in a storm is common. The next shot is always the car and a body underneath it. Storms and strange prehistoric creatures bring out the silliness more than most plot details. A creature appears. Some idiot standing in a field stays there and the next thing is he is being flown away with his legs dangling from the creature’s mouth, sort of a take-out dinner. As for me, I admit I watch anyway. I really do love the absurdity.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Accra, boring house, errands, rain, silly people, Suspension of disbelief, syfy movies, taking down decorations, warm day
Comments: 10 Comments
December 27, 2014
Okay, yesterday I was a woman of my word. I didn’t even get dressed. Most of the day I lolled. Today I need to get my laundry out of the dryer where it has sat for at least a week then I can do another laundry which will also probably sit for a week. I woke up at 10:20 this morning because I didn’t go to bed until three. I just wasn’t tired. Mostly I watched Doctor Who and then finished my book.
Winter sunlight is muted and seldom warm but still welcomed. It is here again today with its frame of blue. I was out on the deck to stop a barking Gracie, and though it isn’t as warm as it has been, it is still warm for late December. Gracie has been out most of the morning enjoying the yard. She has yet to take her morning nap, a most unusual occurrence.
One of favorite Christmas presents was my bike. I was around nine or ten. When I came downstairs Christmas morning, I saw it beside the tree leaning on its kickstand. I knew it was mine, not my brother’s, because it was a girl’s bike. I remember that was the Christmas of no snow, and on Christmas morning I was glad. I’d get to ride my bike. When I took it outside for the first time on the day after Christmas, my mother took a picture of me standing beside the bike holding it by the handlebars. I have the biggest grin on my face. I remember how proud I was riding my new bike.
Every year we’d get a new game. On Christmas day, after dinner and seeing family, we’d set up the new game by the tree, lie on the rug and play. If we didn’t know the game one or the other of my parents read and explained the directions as we went along.
I give my friends a new game every year, my way of keeping the tradition alive. It’s getting more and more difficult finding real put your hands on the pieces games instead of video games, but I usually am lucky to find a couple.
I love game nights, our weekly get-togethers. We have appetizers and drinks. We have moaning and cursing. Sarcasm rules the evening. Someone is always dubbed the loser with finger L on forehead. Sorry and Phase 10 are the usual games. Phase 10 is civilized. Sorry never is and never has been. That’s the fun of it.
Categories: Musings
Tags: Board game, Card game, Christmas, Christmas presents, cursing, game night, games for Christmas, lolling, loser, new bike, Phase 10 card game, Sorry game, sunny, warm day
Comments: 9 Comments
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