Posted tagged ‘warmer day’

“The day of the sun is like the day of a king. It is a promenade in the morning, a sitting on the throne at noon, a pageant in the evening.”

January 25, 2016

The snow is still pretty because the town doesn’t sand or salt. Along the side roads the snow stays pristine. My street is down to pavement. When I look in the backyard, I can see clumps of melting snow falling off branches. The smaller branches are already clear. The snow on the roof drips off the eaves, mostly in the front yard. This morning the steps were icy so I threw deicer on them and on the steps in the back for Gracie. It isn’t the warmest of days, but it is warm enough to melt the snow.

Today is a beautiful day with a brilliant sun and, according to the Crayola color chart, a turquoise blue sky. The snow on the ground is glinting, shining in the light. A sunny day always looks glorious after a snow storm. I think it’s a reward for abiding the snow.

My Pats lost yesterday, no Super Bowl this year. I guess I’ll have to turn to baseball and spring training. Pitchers and catchers report on February 18th and position players on the 23rd. The Sox have been in last place twice in the last three years. The year in between they won the World Series. I think all the planets were aligned that one year.

I live on a small street in the village of South Dennis. There are 8 houses on my street, 2 of which are summer houses. It is seldom a busy street except in the summer when the kids, 8 from 2 houses at the other end of the street and 1 from the house beside me, ride their bikes and scooters on the street. I leave the front door open because Gracie loves to watch. This morning Gracie wanted that door opened so I complied. She stayed there looking out for an hour. I can’t think she saw anything as nothing went by the house, and the kids are all in school. She just likes to look. Dogs are interesting.

“The only thing that will make a souffle fall is if it knows you’re afraid of it.”

January 7, 2016

Today is warmer than it has been which is good as I have a few errands to do. The cats need dry food, and I need bread, life’s essentials for the cats and me. I did vacuum and dust a bit yesterday so I have a small sense of accomplishment.

I didn’t even know how to work the washing machine my freshman year in college. The bell went off once, and the machine wouldn’t work no matter what buttons I pushed. The idea of an uneven load never entered my head. I didn’t even know the load could be uneven, unbalanced. I ended up pulling out the clothes and wringing them by hand before putting them into the dryer. When I mentioned the bell to my mother, she explained about redistributing the clothes in the drum. I was thinking we should have had a laundry lesson before I left.

My junior year in college I had an apartment. My roommate and I had been classmates starting in the first grade and all the way through except for the year on the Cape. She had always worked to put herself through school. She was one of those waitresses who could heft full trays. Her right arm had more muscles than her left. She could cook anything, and I was amazed. I could cook things like eggs, hot dogs or hamburgers, but that was it. She even made meatloaf and gravy, onion gravy. I was more than happy to do the dishes if she cooked.

I was mostly inept when it came to household stuff. I never did laundry, never cooked and didn’t even have to make my bed. My mother did it all. That made apartment living an adventure. Learning to clean was easy. Learning to cook took a bit more time, but I got good at it.

Being in Africa was a test of sorts. I had to survive without machines or devices including an oven and a washing machine and dryer. My wringing skills came to bear on wash day, all done by hand. I ate mostly chicken with a sauce. The meal was cooked over a charcoal fire and the sauce was usually made from tomatoes and onions, the two most plentiful veggies. I did a little frying as well. I was spreading my culinary wings.

Nothing fazed me after Africa. I conquered the wash and kitchen duties and could cook just about anything. I was never to be afraid to try. That was the best part of it all. I had some failures, the bagels come to mind, but the successes were delicious, still are.

“It’s true, I’ve become one of those grumpy older women.”

February 17, 2015

Enough, enough I screamed when I woke up. I could see the snow falling. I am at the I can’t take it anymore stage. The weather man said 1-3 inches then he added not a big deal. Sadly he’s right. This is a mere dusting compared to the feet of snow we have on the ground. At 24˚ the day feels warm, not shorts and flip flops warm, but far warmer than it has been. I have to go out today. I’ll bring my trusty broom and sweep my way clear to the car.

My spirit is joyless today. Resigned and jaded describe me best right now. Yesterday there was sun and blue sky. That sun was exactly what I needed. I had to shade my eyes. How wonderful that was. The bright spot this morning is I did get my papers. She threw them right by my car where it was plowed. The front page, as expected, was filled with snow horror stories. The T will take a month to get back to full service. A number of roofs have fallen in under the weight of the snow. The piles on the sides of the roads are over 6 feet, some even as tall as 7. More snow is coming Saturday. I suppose I should be thrilled with the reprieve of a few snowless days until then, but I just can’t conjure good feelings when it’s still snowing.

My sister in Colorado has stopped sunning herself. The 70˚ weather has been replaced by 10 inches of snow. She won’t get any sympathy from me.

Grumpy is about the best I can do today.

“May all your troubles last as long as your New Year’s resolutions.”

January 2, 2015

Using Gracie as a barometer, I figure the day is a warm one, more inviting than the last few. When she goes out, Gracie stays a good long time. The spit on her face is another indicator. It’s disgusting I know, but it tells me she’s been running, a joyful exercise for her. She hasn’t even had her morning nap yet. She’s back outside.

I started the sad task of putting away Christmas. It was a small first step.

I don’t remember celebrating the New Year my first year in Ghana. Christmas and Thanksgiving I remember and over Easter I traveled, but I’m thinking I was in bed at my usual time on that first New Year’s Eve. The only place in town where I might have gone was the Hotel d’Bull. It was the hot spot and even had a bar with an air-conditioner but you’d never know it, too many people were squeezed into what was called the cold room. The hotel had a courtyard, the scene of many jumps, dances to us. It was an easy walk downhill to the hotel from my house. We used to go see movies there, from the roof seats. The movies were always old or bad or both. I remember there was a jump on Good Friday so I’m guessing there must have been one on New Year’s Eve.

For my second New Year’s Eve I was in Ougadougou in Burkina Faso, called Upper Volta in my time. The ambassador from the US had invited any volunteers in town to his house for a party. The real guests, the diplomats, wore tuxedos or long dresses. Volunteers at that party were easy to recognize. We were the ones wearing dresses or shirts made of native cloth, and we didn’t mingle feeling just a bit out-of-place; regardless, that was the best party I ever attended in Africa. There was champagne, and the servers with white jackets and white gloves never let glasses get empty. The food was unbelievable. It was all the food I had been dreaming about and missing: ham, mashed potatoes, turkey and so many vegetables. I think I filled my plate at least twice, maybe more. I know my glass was never empty.

I have no long-range plans for 2015 except maybe winning the lottery. I just have to start buying tickets.

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