Posted tagged ‘watering plants’

“Pizza is like the entire food pyramid!”

April 25, 2017

What a surprise! Today is dank: cloudy and damp. Rain is expected, heavy at times. I’m glad to stay inside dry and warm.

It is my fault. Gracie woke me up at 3:00 AM. She was panting. Now that she can’t use the dog door, her panting is a signal she needs to go out. The reason it’s my fault is I didn’t take her out after nine last night. She was sleeping so deeply I didn’t want to disturb her so, at the ungodly hour of 3, she and I went outside. We both paused on the front lawn. The street was dark except for my house. A few birds were singing. It had rained as the concrete front steps were wet. We got to the gate, I opened it and she ran to her favorite outdoor privy spot. Afterward, she met me at the back door and we went inside. I gave her a treat and we both went back to bed, well, back to the couch. Gracie went right to sleep. I didn’t, couldn’t, so I turned on the TV and watched Hawaii Five-O on Netflix. I was driven crazy. They carry on conversations in the car, and during them, they look for the longest time at each other and not the road. They should have been killed in horrific accidents. The other bone of contention is a small one. They live in Hawaii. It gets hot, but they wear long sleeve shirts with the sleeves folded up to above the elbows. Why in the heck didn’t they just buy short sleeve shirts? Is it a weird guy thing? A fashion statement?

It’s now raining. I can hear it on the windows.

I still haven’t emptied my camera. The pictures of Ghana from my last trip are still there. Laziness is the only excuse. I have added posting the pictures to watering the plants, my only other chore today, but I can’t make a promise. My camera has been sitting in front of me on the table for a week.

My diet of late has been sketchy. Yesterday I ate some of a chocolate bunny starting at his ears and a grilled cheese sandwich. That sounds like lunch when I was ten. Part of the problem is an empty larder. The other part is nothing is appealing. The solutions would be the delivery of a pizza or the hiring of a cook. My favorite is the cook, but the pizza is all I can afford.

Today I am going to take a nap.

“Nothing irritates me more than chronic laziness in others. Mind you, it’s only mental sloth I object to. Physical sloth can be heavenly.”

August 12, 2016

I didn’t leave the house yesterday except to water the plants on the deck. That has become a daily chore. The plants dry and wilt from the sun and the heat so I feel guilty unless I water them. I do have to go out today, but I figure the traffic will be light. Tourists will be wherever they can feel cool, and I doubt in cars and on the road won’t be their choices. The weather report has the possibility of rain here today and tomorrow. I don’t believe it.

Before I had AC in the house, I used to go to a matinee and sit in the air conditioning to watch a movie. It was a wonderful way to spend an afternoon.

In the paper today was an article about Massachusetts investigating the possibility of changing time zones from Eastern Standard Time to Atlantic Standard Time. People are dreading winter when the sun sets at 4 o’clock, and it sometimes starts to get dark at 3. We already fall back and spring ahead so changing wouldn’t be all that unfamiliar. The only drawback was being on a different time than New York and Washington. Someone suggested Massachusetts Savings Time but that seems a bit ego-centric.

 

I’m not doing much in the heat, but there isn’t really a whole lot to do. I have a couple of cabinets needing to be organized, but cabinet organization is really far too deep on my list to consider. It seems more like a winter chore.

When I worked, my life was far more departmentalized. My daily stuff mostly revolved around work. I got up at 5 or 5:15, watched the early news as my papers weren’t delivered yet and had two cups of coffee. I left for work around 6:20, arrived by 6:30 and then  organized my day. I got home around 4. I read the papers and my mail, made dinner, showered and went to bed no later than 10. Monday to Friday never really varied.

The weekends were for cleaning the house, doing the laundry and going to the dump. Friday and Saturday nights were empty dance cards waiting to be filled.

Now, despite having all the time in the world, I run out of time. My lists seldom get finished so I move the undone items to the next day. I do the same thing every day so I always have a never ending list, but I have learned not to care. It took some time but I’m now quite comfortable with lazy days, with being a sloth and with unfinished lists.

“There is no old age. There is, as there always was, just you.”

January 17, 2014

Today will reach 45˚ and tonight we’ll have snow showers. It’s no wonder people go stir crazy in winter. Mother Nature gives us this lovely day with sun and blue skies then whacks us with snow while we’re sleeping. Tomorrow may rain or it may snow. The day sounds ugly. I suppose I shouldn’t expect much as the Spring Equinox is a long way off, March 20 at 12:57 P.M, which means more of winter is ahead than behind. The only consolation is every day gets a bit longer.

Gracie and I may go out riding today. We were in all day yesterday. I read, and Gracie napped and snored. The cats too napped but that’s what they usually do. I paid my bills. The bed got made and the house got cleaned. It was a productive day.

I am long passed needing to accomplish anything on a given day. It just so happened yesterday. I think I polished the furniture one day last week, but I’ll have to check my diary to see, as if…I do need to water the plants. I’ll have to work up to that task.

When I was a kid, I couldn’t wait to be a teenager, and when I was teenager, I couldn’t wait to be twenty-one, legal to drink and to vote, an interesting combination. Thirty struck me hard. I was part of the, “Never trust anyone over thirty,” generation, and we were all there or even beyond it. I didn’t mind being forty. It was just a number, but fifty threw me for a loop. I was half a hundred, half a century old. There was no other way to think of it. I retired at fifty-seven, a lucky number just because of circumstances. For my sixtieth birthday my sisters and I took a tour of Fenway, went out to dinner then to a Sox game. It was a perfect celebration. All of my friends and I are now on the backside of sixty. One of my friends will be sixty-nine this year. That boggles my mind. How can that be?


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