Posted tagged ‘water plants’

“In my South, the most treasured things passed down from generation to generation are the family recipes.”

July 14, 2018

Today is already hot, but I am cool here in the den though I do expect the air conditioner will be needed in the not too distant heat of the day. The breeze is steady. I can see it ruffling the leaves in the backyard. I’ve started a new book so I may relocate to the deck a bit later and read the day away.

My neighborhood is quiet now. I could hear mowers earlier, but they’ve moved on. The birds are singing. My feeders are filled so they’ll be dropping by to munch. I saw chickadees earlier.

I have to water the deck plants. That’s it for the day’s chores. I suppose I could find more to do but I can’t imagine why I’d look.

Yesterday I read a book and munched on Twizzlers while I was reading. An order had come from a candy site. The box had those Twizzlers, anise bears and some candy and nuts for movie night. I love the taste of anise especially those round cookies with white frosting and colored sprinkles. My uncle used to make some for me every Christmas. He did share his baking secret. Use anise oil, not anise extract. He even gave me the recipe.

My mother once gave me a small, three ring notebook. It was for recipes. The cover had pots and pans and kitchen utensils on it. My mother had given some blank pages to mostly relatives and asked them to write down recipes for me and to sign each page. I thought that one of the greatest Christmas gifts. I have made apple cake, the anise cookies, a strawberry dessert, some bread, a grasshopper pie and a couple more. Three of the contributors have passed, but I have this wonderful legacy from each of them.

The clouds have started coming and going though rain is not predicted. The breeze has picked up a bit; maybe it has even become a wind. I can feel it blowing through the back door screen. I may just sit here with my Twizzlers and watch bad black and white science fiction. I’m thinking that’s a perfect Saturday afternoon for me.

 

“I am not the same, having seen the moon shine on the other side of the world.”

July 20, 2017

The weather has settled into monotony. Every day is sunny and hot. We reached the mid 80’s yesterday while Boston was over 90˚. The shade was bearable, but the sun was unrelenting. The only times I went outside were to bring Gracie to the yard where I sat in the shade and waited for her.

I did nothing yesterday and will probably do nothing today as well. A dump run is in our future but probably tomorrow. I do need to water the plants, inside and outside, but that’s it.

When I was a teacher, I traveled every summer, mostly to Europe, and went for three or four weeks. I traveled on the cheap. Go Europe was my travel Bible. University housing and hostels were my hotels as such. Meals were sometimes at bar happy hours where I’d nurse a single drink until I’d eaten my fill or at railroad stations which had kiosks with cheap sandwiches. I usually traveled with a friend. B&B’s were sometimes our stops mostly through Ireland, Scotland and England. I remember one in London, in Earl’s Court. The owner barely spoke English and played music quite loud from the kitchen which was next to my room. The song I remember best is Cielito Linda with the damn ay, ay, ay. I swear it was played over and over. My favorite B&B was in Dingle Ireland. It was over a grocery store. The woman was old. She entertained us with stories about guests including the Frenchman who didn’t know how to eat Corn Flakes and another who wanted a facecloth. She laughed at the thought that the face had its own cloth. Breakfasts were eggs, bacon, toast and coffee and sometimes a grilled tomato. The hostels were cheap enough but didn’t offer breakfast, but they had a value of their own. Hostels were where I’d trade books and information with other travelers. All these trips were cheap enough that I could saved enough money every year for a summer in Europe.

Last year’s trip to Ghana was expensive enough for a couple or even close to three trips to Europe in the old days, but I was perfectly fine with that. I enjoyed the lap of luxury as if I had been born to it.

“I happen to love coconut, particularly for that sweet and crunchy texture it adds to any dish.”

May 22, 2017

The rain is back. It starts and stops. The tops of the trees are blowing. Going outside is uninviting. The house was a bit cool when I woke up. A little blast of heat was it needed. I needed coffee.

The morning has gone quickly. I read the papers, but Monday is a scant news day. Sunday papers use all the news to fill the extra pages.

Last night around 11:30, I took Gracie out. Every house was dark. There are no streetlights so I couldn’t even see the brown house on the corner. The dogs usually bark from inside that house, but this time they were quiet. Gracie was quick.

I had coconut ice cream with hot fudge sauce, whipped cream and jimmies for dessert last night. The ice cream was filled with coconut pieces and was scrumptious. The first palm tree I ever saw was in Ghana. Coconuts hung from its leafy top. They were still green. I stood under the tree a while looking up, amazed I was actually seeing a palm tree. It had jumped from the pages of my geography book to real life.

I haven’t any ambition for the day. My plants need watering, and the cat litter needs changing. I figure that’s about all I’ll do. I also figure that’s enough.

Knee socks were popular when I was in high school. I had several pairs in all different colors. I wore them even after the elastic around the tops had broken. They became really thick ankle socks.

My TV watching has been a bit strange of late. I watched all the episodes of The Keepers about pedophilic priests and a nun who was murdered and how the two cases may have intersected. I also binged watch all of Anne with an E, that would be Anne of Green Gables. It was quite a change.

I’m going to get cozy and read. I think it a perfect day to do both.

“Sunday, the day for the language of leisure.”

July 31, 2016

It is a still morning. Not a leaf blows on the trees overhanging the deck. Not even a bird disturbs the silence. The day is cloudy and feels close. The humidity is higher than the last few days but still tolerable. My house is 74˚, not time for AC yet. Gracie likes the doors open so she can survey the neighborhood. The cats just sleep. That’s what cats do.

Last night I was awoken two times. The first was Fern meowing and looking for attention. She has figured out that waking me up means she gets her pats. I scratch her by the tail, pat her a few times then fall back to sleep. She is content and sleeps the rest of the night beside me. The second time was when my bed was shaking. I knew Gracie was panting. That meant she was uncomfortable and needed to go out. We went down stairs, and when I opened the door, she was out like a shot. She was back about 5 minutes later, and we both went back to bed. She fell asleep right away. It took me a whole lot longer.

My to do list is short today. I just have to water plants inside and out, but if truth be told, I don’t even feel like making that small effort. Sunday is a quiet day for me, a throwback from my childhood. When I worked, it was dump and laundry day. Now, I can’t imagine doing both of those in one day. The effort seems monumental. I went to the dump late yesterday afternoon with two weeks worth of trash. I have laundry I could do, but there is still laundry in the dryer from last week. I have embraced a lazy lifestyle.

“I never drink water because of the disgusting things that fish do in it.”

April 27, 2015

No errands to do today, but I have some laundry which I’ve brought down to this floor, only one more floor to go. I’ll probably make my bed, but that’s not a given. I will water the plants. I’ve already showered and read the papers. The day is partly sunny which I prefer over partly cloudy, a choice which reminds me of the half-full or half-empty glass description. I always figured that choice had little to do with outlook and more to do with thirst. Really thirsty makes the glass half-empty.

In our travels, my brother and I would drink water from just about everywhere except the swamp. Beside the tracks, there was a pipe with water flowing from it. Underneath the pipe was a small pool of water which was the start of a stream. We always stopped there for a drink. The water looked clean. That’s all we cared about. There were very few bubblers around town. One was at the field below our street, and we stopped there. We even taught the dog to drink from it. Germs were never a consideration. Cooties were, not germs, but dogs didn’t have cooties. People did. In my head just now jumped the memory of cootie catchers. They were made by folding a paper several times until there were four corners meeting in the middle and each corner had a pocket to put your fingers in so you could move the corners back and forth until a corner was chosen. Inside each corner was something pithy the maker had written. We also used those cootie catchers as fortune tellers, a nicer game. Later I realized these were origami, but knowing that was a long way in the future.

The best and the coldest water was from the hose. Before you drank it, the water had to run a bit as the sun had warmed the water already in the hose. Once it was cold enough, the flow had to be gentle or the front of your shirt got soaked. It was a balancing act which took some practice.

Even in Ghana we drank suspect water which had floaties, our pet name for whatever was in the water bottle, really a beer bottle holding water, but on my latest two visits to Ghana, I bought water, bottled water. I figured I’m beyond taking chances with floaties.