Posted tagged ‘cloudy’

“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.

“It’s just the most amazing thing to love a dog, isn’t it? It makes our relationships with people seem as boring as a bowl of oatmeal.”

April 18, 2017

Today is cloudy and chilly. We are back to the 50’s with a high of only 51˚ and a low tonight of 36˚. I have nothing planned for today.

This has been a bad morning for Gracie. She slid on the kitchen floor and fell. I pulled her up by the halter, but she was wild and wide-eyed and it took a bit to settle her down. She panted for quite a while. She is now resting on the couch. I have moved the treads from the indoor stairs and placed them all around the kitchen floor and right in front of the dog food and water. The tiled floors in the kitchen and bathroom are tough for her with the slipping of her back feet so I’m hoping she’ll get used to the treads in both rooms.

I am now permanently sleeping on the couch. It is actually comfortable for both of us. Gracie doesn’t have to worry about the stairs, and she can sprawl at one end. The couch is good for my back, and I get to lie in bed and watch TV. The bathroom is close and so is the kitchen so my immediate needs are easily met. I do this because it is best for Gracie. That is the least I owe her for all the love she gives.

I guess all the anxiety about Gracie has taken its toll on me and left me with a malaise I can’t seem to shake. I hope today is just a bad day not the beginning of everyday.

“Time is the longest distance between two places.”

April 6, 2017

Cloudy and damp today but it is warm at 43˚. Alexa tells me the high will be 49˚, and it will rain yet again. The ground is muddy. When I step on the grass, my shoe gets soaked. The dog’s paw prints go from the back door down the hall to the rug where they disappear.

Yesterday Gracie and I got a lot done. We were out and about for about three hours. We made even it down cape to Orleans where I did a bit of shopping.

I have made an appointment for Gracie at the vets. Her legs are worse.

I am ending this early today as I have to go to Hyannis for an MRI. It seems my dog and I are falling aprt. Getting old does that!

“Feet that run on willing errands!”

March 31, 2017

The day is dark and cloudy, as usual. It rained earlier, after my paper was delivered because underneath it was dry. It will rain again according to the weatherman. I have a to-do list with three or four stops, including Gracie’s favorite, the dump. I also have a chore list with mostly outside, get done before the rain stuff.

When I was a kid, I hated rainy days in the winter. The walk home was pure misery. My shoes, my jacket, and my bare head would get soaked, and I’d freeze from the combination of wet and cold. Usually about half-way home, at the train tracks, I’d be so soaked I was akin to an ice cube.

Rainy afternoons have always been favorites of mine. I like the darkness clouds bring. The lights are off except for the window lights in the front rooms. Theirs is a cozy glow.

The weekend will be quiet. I haven’t anything scheduled. I could tackle a couple of cabinets which do need cleaning, but, if history repeats itself, I won’t though I do want the cabinet formerly the home of the obese, now departed, mouse, cleaned. Yup, the wee beastie didn’t make it. I knew it wouldn’t.

Boston may get a couple of inches of snow from today’s storm. Groundskeepers may have to shovel Fenway for opening day on Monday. I saw a Red Sox game in Cleveland once, and the temperature was in the high 30’s with a wind. That is football weather. I froze though I did last the whole game with frequent trips to the ladies room to sit on its giant radiator to get warm. The Sox won in the top of the ninth with a three-run homer by Manny.

Well, there’s not much going on in my part of the world so I’ll get dressed and go out to finish the errand list.

“Every day my mother had tea. My dad has his ritual cigar. They had their evening cocktail. Those rituals were done nicely, with flair and feeling.”

March 27, 2017

Today is chilly, damp and cloudy. Last night it rained, and the ground is still wet. More rain is expected today. My dance card is empty so I’m staying close to hearth and home. I’m declaring today a sloth day. It’s a sit on the couch, watch TV, and snack day. It is comfy clothes including a sweatshirt that has seen better days. It is not fit for public viewing.

It has been a quiet news day. The front page of the Globe had only a single Trump article, and it was at the bottom of the page: “Trump girds for tax fight and Prepares to reverse Obama climate plan.”

When I’d visit my mother, she and I had rituals. We’d sit for hours at the kitchen table playing Big Boggle. We’d order take out for dinner. She paid and I picked up. On Saturday, we did some shopping. Both she and I liked off-beat places, never a mall. Sometimes we’d venture afar. One Saturday we went as far as North Conway, and we shopped and had lunch. We were gone so long my father figured we were lost, wandering aimlessly from backroad to backroad. Little did he realize that my mother and I loved backroads, even when we had no idea where we’d end up. On Saturday night, depending on the season, my father barbecued. It was always a couple of different meats, chips, a potato salad or pepper and egg. Chinese sausage was the favorite meat one year, but my mother’s marinated steak tips were perennial favorites. On Sunday morning my dad went out early for donuts. He was a plain donut guy, and he spread butter on it. He’d then start cooking breakfast. It was always eggs, bacon and toast. The eggs were easy over and the bacon crispy. I’d sit at the kitchen table to keep him company    Sometimes I was on toast duty. Sunday afternoons were for cribbage. When I won, it was the luck of the draw. When my dad won, it was expertise. I lived to skunk him.

“I couldn’t shed the cold; it clung to every bit of me.”

January 31, 2017

I walked out of the house to get the papers and was totally taken aback at how cold it was. It was sunny then but the sun was just a backdrop providing some light but no heat. Since then the sun has been replaced by whitish clouds. Snow will be coming later but only an inch or two. I’m staying home today where I’ll be warm and comfortable.

When I was a kid, winter usually meant staying inside after school. I’d do my homework and then watch TV. The only exercise I had was walking to and from school. We, the four of us, must have driven my mother crazy. My brother and I would tease our younger sisters. He and I would sit on the couch on each side of one sister and point at her. That drove her crazy and she’d yell to my mother about us. We’d yell back and say we weren’t even touching her, but my mother knew. She’d tell us to stop.

I didn’t my bike out much in the winter. Mostly I walked everywhere. Some Saturdays I’d ride with my father when he did his errands. My favorite stop was at the Chinaman’s as everyone in town called it. The shop was where my dad left his white shirts each week to be cleaned. Behind the counter on shelves were bundles of cleaned shirts wrapped in brown paper tied with string. The laundry was always steamy from the big ironing machine by the window. I used to watch the Chinaman iron.

On Sunday, if I was up and dressed early enough I could ride with my father to church. He was an usher at the eight o’clock mass. He’d give me a dime to put in the basket. I always sat in a pew where he collected the money. The ushers never sat. They just stood in the back entryway and talked in whispers until it was time for the money offerings.

One of the best parts of being retired is staying home on the coldest of days, a day like to day.

“Winter is not a season, it’s an occupation.”

December 10, 2016

The day is mostly cloudy with only a bit of blue. It is really cold. Last night was in the teens. Right now it’s 24˚. The weather will stay cold until Wednesday when we’ll be back to the 40’s.  I’m going off Cape today to see the play Mame. My sister and I do a play then dinner every Christmas season. My mother started the tradition. One of the plays she took us to was Death of a Salesman with Brian Dennehy. It was superb but was the fodder for jokes about Christmas cheer and the season to be jolly. I love this tradition.

I wanted a band to greet me when I got home yesterday from my errands. The Christmas boxes are wending their way to Colorado, the trash is dumped, and the last present bought. I even stopped and picked up clam chowder for dinner. It was delicious.

Last night I made the fudge for my sister. It didn’t look right, but I put it in the fridge expecting it to harden. When I checked it later, it was soft. Around 1, before I went to bed, I checked it and it was still soft. I knew I did something wrong, a first for me with this fudge. I figured I’d make it this morning but then realized I wouldn’t have time. I made it last night. While stirring to the soft ball stage, I realized I had read the thermometer wrong on the first batch. A silly mistake! By the time I was finished making the fudge and cleaning the kitchen, it was close to 2, but I am glad I am not disappointing my sister. This batch hardened.My mother often forgot one of our presents hidden in the house. When we’d open the gifts on Christmas morning, she’d remember because it was missing. Sometime during the day, a brand new present would appear under the tree. I remember one year she forgot the ice skates she had bought me, not the white ones I already had but an antique pair with straps you attached right to your shoes and a single blade with a curl at the ends. She had tucked them behind my other presents as if I had overlooked them. I didn’t care. I liked the surprised of this really neat gift.

The sun is now out but the day isn’t any warmer. I’ll bundle up.