Posted tagged ‘Clouds’

“He yawned like a black bear coming out of hibernation.”

November 18, 2017

The sun has disappeared. Nothing is moving. The day is warm and quiet. Gracie and I went out first thing. She went into the backyard and I got the papers in the front. When we came back inside, Maddie gave me her demanding meow, loud and annoying, so I fed her first. Gracie was next, and I, as usual, was last. It’s two cups of coffee and two pieces of toast later, one with grape jelly my friend made.

I’m not sure why, maybe it’s the return of the gray day, but I have very little energy today. I even sat a while between cups of coffee, most unusual for me. Luckily, I have no plans for the day, no errands and no chores. I do have book two in the series by Elly Griffiths so perhaps the couch will be my spot for the day and turning pages my only activity.

I send cards for every holiday. That started when I was in college. My grandparents were around then, and one of my grandmothers was thrilled to get them. She was the one who wanted to be teacher so she loved that I was. I enjoy choosing the cards and lament my Hallmark store having closed. The closest one is in Orleans which always feels far but is only 12 or so miles away. When I was in Ghana, I made cards for every holiday except Christmas as I could find those. I used to go through magazines and cut out words and letters to make my cards, They looked more like ransom demands than cards. The Christmas cards I sent were wonderful. Some were hand-painted but even the ones commercially made were different. They had African nativity scenes, drummers, palm trees and even a camel or two. Each time I went back to Ghana, I was excited to find cards for Christmas. They went to family and special friends. I always send Edward Gorey cards to every one else for Christmas. I love his whimsey. The Edward Gorey house is in Yarmouth, and I go there to buy my cards. I remember last year I was afraid I had already sent all the available scenes but was glad to find one more. I’m hoping for the same this year.

I’ve started yawning which gives you a sense of today and the weather and today and me.

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Chelsea Morning: Joni Mitchell

November 9, 2017

Joni Mitchell’s birthday was Tuesday. She turned 74, and I missed it. I blame Alexa. Last week I had asked Alexa to remind me of Joni’s birthday, and I don’t think she did, but I was sleeping so I could have missed Alexa’s reminder. Anyway, if you’ve been with me a while, you know Joni is about my all time favorite. When I was in the Peace Corps, I had a cassette recorder, one of those rectangular ones we all had. I had about 4 or 5 cassettes with me including CSN&Y, Peter, Paul and Mary, Creedence and Joni’s Clouds. I think my friends and I wore out that album, We played it just about every night and never tired of it. Chelsea Morning is my favorite song from this album. The lyrics are amazing so filled with colors and images, similes and metaphors. I can still see this song in my head.

“Winter slithers, autumn strolls, summer swims, spring skips.”

November 7, 2017

The sun is hiding. It was here earlier but it’s gone now. Today is chillier than it has been, but not chilly enough for the heat to be triggered. The clouds are white, and there is barely a breeze, but I’ll take the clouds rather than the usual cold of November.

When I was a kid, I rode my bike all year. Only the snow stopped me. The roads were seldom plowed all the way down to street so it was too slippery for bike wheels. It was sort of the same when I was walking to and from school. The sidewalks were shoveled by the people who lived beside them, not the town, so we’d hit parts which had never seen a shovel. Rather than get all snowy and wet, we’d move to the road and walk in the ruts. Sometimes we’d have to walk toe to heel because the ruts were so narrow. Sometimes we’d fall into the snow. We always laughed.

I really didn’t mind school all that much in the winter, but I really minded it in late spring and fall when the days were still warm and bright. All I could think of was I should be outside playing or riding my bike; instead, the best weather was being wasted, and a taste of the day at recess only made it worse. All I could do each school day was watch through my classroom windows as warm days withered away. We played when we got home from school but darkness came early, and the street lights were on by four. My mother didn’t care what time it was. She went with the street light curfew.

My town had so many trees bordering the streets and sidewalks that fallen leaves were everywhere. The ones on lawns were cleared and burned, but the rest sat in gutters or around tree trunks. Yellow and orange are the colors of fall to me.

Sometimes I still think of all the other seasons in colors. Spring is green, all different, varied greens. Summer is all colors especially reds and yellows, pinks and purples as the gardens come to life. Winter is white when it snows, and red and green at Christmas, but the rest of winter is mostly brown and grey. We’re almost there now.

“There are no such things as curses; only people and their decisions”

October 7, 2017

The sun predicted for today has yet to appear. It is cloudy and damp. I could feel the moisture in the air when Gracie and I went out to get the papers. It made me feel a bit chilly and I wished I had put on a sweatshirt. The house, though, with all the doors and windows closed is warm.

We’re going out today, Gracie and I, to the dump, the market and Agway. My trunk is filled with trash from Thursday’s great cabinet clean-out. Gracie needs canned food and a treat or two, and I need the essentials for life: bread, coffee and cream.

My friends are coming on Tuesday for a couple of days. These are the friends I traveled with to Ghana last year. We first met in 1969 at Peace Corps staging in Philadelphia at the Hotel Sylvania. Staging is the first time the whole group of trainees get together before leaving for in-country training, and it is where we got shots, had interviews and were introduced to PC staff from Ghana. Right away we became friends and co-conspirators. The three of us skipped some of the orientation to tour Philadelphia. It didn’t take a whole lot of convincing. They were supposed to be posted in Tamale, a city 100 miles from Bolga. That would have made us neighbors. Instead, after Peace Corps found out Peg was pregnant, they were posted to New Tafo, in the south. I visited them every time I went south, and we traveled together. Just before our second year, there was an open post at my school. They were willing to join me in Bolga, and the principal agreed to make the request to Peace Corps so we became neighbors living in a duplex on the school compound. Bill had a red motorcycle. I had a grey one. We used to take day trips around Bolga. He’d take Kevin, their son, and I’d take Peg. We had adventures. I remember a couple of picnics during school holidays, one by a watering hole and another in the hills of Tongo where school boys stood and watched us the whole time. It was there an old man threatened us with the gods because he claimed we had desecrated a sacred rock by putting our small charcoal burned on it. The schoolboys said he just wanted money. We decided to take our chances. As we were leaving, Bill’s motorcycle stopped dead. It just quit running. We sort of chuckle and hoped the old man didn’t see us. The motorcycle did start right away, but it gave us pause.

“Life is an adventure, it’s not a package tour.”

July 22, 2017

When I woke up, the day was bright and sunny, but it isn’t any more. Clouds have blanketed the sky. The weatherman claims those clouds will be intermittent, but I’m skeptical. A little rain would be welcomed, forecasted or not.

The spawns of Satan have mounted a new assault. They are chewing my outside lights. The gate had a trail of white lights coming from the giant star near the back door. Last night I noticed the trail had gone dark. I checked and found chewed wires. On the deck rail, two sets of colored lights have been chewed. I found bulbs from the newest set laying on the deck, chewed off the wire. The spawns seem to like the red bulbs, cementing their Satan connection. What perplexes me is those lights have been untouched for a couple of years. I’m guessing there’s a new spawn in the neighborhood. The next set of colored lights is here, but I haven’t put it on the deck rail yet. I’ve ordered a new white set. It’s crazy I guess. I’m beginning to feel like Sisyphus.

I went to Russia in the 1970’s. My friend and I took a train from Helsinki to Leningrad. We were in the last car. When it got to the border, the car was uncoupled and joined to a Russian train. A Russian train lady boarded our car. She brought us tea over and over throughout the trip. In Leningrad I learned there were two lines for taxis, one for women and children and the other for the rest of us. At the hotel they asked for our passports. Visions of the KGB jumped int my head. When I refused, I was told no hotel room so I gave in. Yup, I gave in that quickly. We had a tour guide. In those days everyone had a tour guide. We liked her. She brought us to the Hermitage Museum. Women sat in chairs in every room at the Hermitage, and it was the same in every museum. They also sat at the bottom of escalators in every metro station and on every floor in the hotels where we stayed. We saw the Winter Palace and Peterhof and the Peter and Paul Fortress. We saw a memorial commemorating the Siege of Leningrad. On buses, the honor system was in effect. At the hotel, the food was terrible. We went to a few Beryozka shops, which no longer exist, where you could buy Russian goods for hard cash. We bought snacks and some beautiful small wooden figures.

When it was time to move to our next stop, we got a new guide. We didn’t like her. She told us nothing and didn’t answer questions. We then got on the train which the Frenchman, a fellow tourist, likened to a cattle car in France. We were on to stop 2, a city on the Volga whose name I can’t remember for good reason. The tours in that city included a dental school and a publishing plant where they gave us all sorts of Lenin material. It was the worst.

We had more adventures, but I’ll save those for another day. I will say we had a spy who was uncovered in Moscow.

“Here Comes the Sun”

July 8, 2017

Yesterday we had the mightiest of storms. Down cape got nearly five inches. We got three. Roads were flooded, cars were stuck and small rivers ran along the sides of the road. The rain came down in sheets. I could barely see beyond my window. Gracie wouldn’t go out. She didn’t even stick her nose out the front door. I, on the other hand, ran out to get a package left by the mailman. I got soaked. When I got inside, I checked the package. It wasn’t even mine.

The sun was shining when I woke up, but in the shortest time, it disappeared and clouds, instead, filled the sky. It is warm and still a bit humid. I’m hoping the sun will be back to dry the deck for movie night.

Gracie has returned to the couch for sleeping. I wake up several times trying to get comfortable. Gracie sleeps soundly. This morning at 4:30 I heard her panting so I took her, outside. We both easily fell back asleep.

I like living alone, but there are times when I need another person. The bulb over the sink is out, but I’m not climbing. I need to trip a fuse or two as some outlets are not working. I went down the cellar and tripped a few, but not the right ones. I need someone to yell, “All set!” But, instead, I’m stuck going up and down the stairs.

Angela Merkel gave Putin the best eye roll while he was talking, and she was listening. Merkel is amazing. She is assuming the mantle of western leadership vacated by the United States.

Man spreading was the topic of a couple of newspaper columns and on MSNBC. Trump is the king of man spreading. He is sitting as forward as he can on the white chair with his legs as far apart as he can manage. Putin too was man spreading, but he appeared more comfortable than Trump who kept looking around as if to figure out what to do next. Hand shaking seemed to be his fallback.

Today is dump day. I haven’t told Gracie yet. I’ll just surprise her.

The menu is set for tonight. We’ll have sausage, pepper and onion in rolls. I chose colorful peppers instead of the dull green. We have Chinese and Italian sausages. It’s like a festival of foods, seemingly common but not common.

Glory Be! The sun is back and has brought blue skies with it.

“Spring is a powerful spell. The blue. The clouds high up and puffy. The air warmer than it’s been for weeks.”

June 3, 2017

I have no flowers yet. Yesterday was a bust. I didn’t even leave the house except to walk Gracie to the back gate a few times during the day and into the night. I just had no ambition. Some days I’m like that.

Today is sunny and warm, but there is a possibility of showers. It is in the mid 60’s now and may get as low as 51˚, normal spring time weather for New England. I’m happy with showers. They tend to come quickly and leave as quickly. Rain stays around.

All the rain has made for a lush, green world. My lawn has new grass in spots, Gracie squat spots. The rest of the lawn is filling in nicely, and every day new blooms open in the garden. I noticed some of the flowers have seeded themselves and are blooming in new spots. The irises have buds, large purple buds close to blooming. Every day a different delight in the garden catches my eye.

While I’ve been writing this, the sun has disappeared. Clouds have covered it, and I’m not so sure it will be back. The chance of showers is closer to a certainty.

The longer days confuse me. I’m surprised when I check the clock and find out it is still early afternoon but therein lies a problem. I’m a bit confused as to when early afternoon ends and late afternoon begins. I’m leaning toward 4 o’clock.

I’m having hot dogs for dinner tonight, but I’m skipping the beans and brown bread. I never did eat the beans, and I can’t remember when last I ate brown bread. Regardless, though, I’m still calling tonight’s supper a Saturday tradition.