Posted tagged ‘dump’

“To be overcome by the fragrance of flowers is a delectable form of defeat.”

June 1, 2017

The rain yesterday was torrential at times. We even had thunder and lightning. Not once did the sun make an appearance. It was too busy shining in Boston. Gracie and I left for the dump when the rain was misty, but by the time we got there, it was pouring. I figured I was there anyway and might as well get rid of the trash. My sweatshirt got soaked. I decided right then and there I deserved one more stop, the chocolate store, the best decision of the day.

My eye is clear, but I still have to take eye drops four times a day. My other eye will be done June 6th.

The early morning was lovely. The air had a crispness almost more fall than summer, and it had the best after the rain smell, both fresh and clean and smelling of flowers and mulch. I stood on the deck watching Gracie and taking in the morning. Finally, we both went inside: me to coffee and the papers and Gracie to her morning snack. It will be warm today, a welcome change in the weather. I’ve already opened a window.

I’ve got to empty the water in the outdoor furniture covers so they can dry and then be put away. My deck still looks like it’s winter. A lot needs to be done. Plant shelves need to be sanded then repainted. The clay pots need cleaning before they can be filled with flowers, the same with the deck boxes. Placing the candle hooks in the pine trees will take a bit of ingenuity as some of the branches were lopped off during the fall clean-up. Lights on a few backyard trees have to be replaced. They died over the winter. I’m hoping for lots of warmth today, enough to dry everything so I can be outside on the deck reading and enjoying the air. I’ve had enough of the house.

“The eyes of spring, so azure, Are peeping from the ground; They are the darling violets, That I in nosegays bound.”

May 18, 2017

My wish came true. Yesterday was sunny and hot, 75˚ hot. I’d complain, but Boston hit 90˚ so I’m content at 75˚. It will be the same today.

The morning has a languid feel to it. I do hear a single bird, but the rest are gone, probably perching in the shade. This room where I spend most of my time is a refuge from the heat as it is in the back of the house and stays dark and cool until the afternoon when the sun moves to the west and streams through these back windows.

I went to the dump yesterday, one of my three errands. Poor Gracie stayed home as the other errands would have meant her sitting in a hot car. I tricked her by bringing the trash bags out early then sitting down for coffee and the papers. She forgot all about the trash and hopped on the couch for a morning nap. She is now back to getting into her crate. Her back legs were iffy, but they seem fine now. She gets in the crate and sticks out her head for a treat. I never refuse.

When I was a kid, I gave my mother dandelion bouquets. She always gushed at the beauty of the flowers then she’d put them in a vase, usually a jelly jar, which exalted them from their weedy status. I remember making a wish then blowing the dandelion seeds and watching the wind take them.

In my mother’s backyard, she had lilies of the valley and violets growing on the top dirt shelf of a rock wall. Some of the lilies were blue from their contact with the violets. I dug up and took some lilies and some violets home with me so I could plant then in my yard. They have spread all over. The lilies are in a front side garden with only a few violets here and there among them. The violets in the backyard took a while to grow while the lilies dug in right away and are now in clumps around the fence and some trees. Every time I see them, I think of my mother and her garden.

“There are only ten minutes in the life of a pear when it is perfect to eat.”

May 1, 2017

My patience is exhausted so I’m putting Mother Nature on notice. Make up your mind. Is it spring or isn’t it? My heat went on for a bit this morning, and I had to add another afghan as I was cold. The gray sky has returned, and it rained earlier this morning. My dance card has a bunch of house stuff to do like the laundry. It overfloweth. I have some trash and recyclables which I need to move to the trunk. Tomorrow will be dump day, but I have to get a new sticker first. Be still my heart!

When I was a kid, I could eat hot dogs every day. The best were barbecued, but that was on the weekends when my father was home. During the week, my mother fried or boiled them. When she fried them, she’d make cuts across the dogs so both inside and outside got browned. I used yellow mustard and piccalilli. Toasted buns were the best.

 

During the week, my mother served some sort of meat with potatoes and vegetables. The vegetables were frequent flyers, the list of what we liked was limited. We had mashed potatoes, corn, peas, carrots or some sort of squash. Butternut was our favorite.

My mother made great brownies. They were always frosted with chocolate and sprinkled with jimmies (the Boston/New England word for chocolate sprinkles). I liked the harder, outside edges.

Bananas were my favorite fruit. They were the easiest to eat. Just peel. I also liked them on my cereal though they always sank to the bottom. My mother used to peel the apples for us because we didn’t like the peel. I didn’t mind it when I got older. She’d cut the oranges into eighths and take out the seeds. We loved watermelon but ate it only in the summer. I don’t think it was available winters. I didn’t like the seeds in grapes. We used to pick pears off the tree in the next yard. I think they were never as I remember them being hard to bits. Blueberries came in a pie and strawberries in a shortcake. Pineapples and coconut came later. I think coconut is my favorite now.

I think my laziness dictates my meals. I don’t often make dinner. Lunch is a sandwich or hummus, or something equally easy. Cereal is sometimes dinner. I’m into Frosted Flakes, and I still add bananas.

“Happiness is when you are content with who you are, what you are, and where you are.”

April 28, 2017

The morning has already been a strange one. Gracie woke me up at seven. It was legitimate. She ran into the backyard. I got the paper. Notice I said paper. The Boston Globe wasn’t there. I put my coffee on and sat down to read the Cape Times. I heard a rumble. It sounded like a big truck on my street, but then the rumbling started again. It was thunder, mighty loud thunder. My lights went out. It was only for a few minutes but was a major nuisance. I had to reset my CD player, my microwave and my coffee maker which had totally stopped in mid-brew. It took me longer to get everything on time than the electricity had been off.

After the election, I decided not to be the political news junkie I had been, but that was like my making my yearly New Year’s resolutions which I never seem to keep. I can’t stay away from what is happening. The worst is yesterday’s Trump comment, “There’s a chance there will be a major, major conflict with North Korea, absolutely.” I wonder, though, how enthused South Korea is about all this since they just received their bill from President Trump who wants South Korea to pay around $1 billion for the deployment of the Terminal High Altitude Area Defense (THAAD) battery. South Korea said no. The Korean nuclear problem is, of course, Obama’s fault. Flynn’s disregard for the law is also Obama’s fault. Building the wall has now become a metaphor. We should have known Trump meant building up security around the border.

I have to go to the dentist this morning to have my teeth cleaned. I have a few errands after that. Gracie and I went to the dump yesterday. It wasn’t on my list, but the trash in the trunk needed to go. It had been a bit long. I had to open all the car windows.

Gracie and I went to the dump yesterday. It wasn’t on my list, but the trash in the trunk needed to go. It had been a bit long. I had to open all the car windows.

When I was a kid, my father used to drag the trash barrels to the sidewalk on the morning of the trash pickup. He’d get mad if he found the empty barrels still on the sidewalk when he got home. We didn’t really care when he blustered at us about our laziness. We looked interested, but it was a blah, blah, blah thing. That’s a skill kids learn early.

I’m back, and I am a bad mother to Gracie. I put her in her crate and left. When I got home, there was dog poop on the PeeWee pads I keep down for the cat. There were a couple of small piles off the paper and a trail into the kitchen. Gracie was standing in the living room wagging her tail for all she is worth. It seems I closed but didn’t latch the crate. Gracie is a nervous wreck loose in the house when I’m not here. She loves being safe in her crate. I was just surprised Gracie figured out what the pads were as she never used them.

It’s time to take off my outside clothes for my comfy clothes. I’m having Chinese food for lunch, leftover from dinner last night. Gracie is happy, Maddie is sleeping. All’s right wit the world.

 

“Don’t allow your life to become just a dead ritual. Let there be moments, unexplainable.”

April 24, 2017

The house was cold when I woke up. I needed my sweatshirt so I had to dump poor Maddie off. She had slept on it last night. Gracie and I went to get the papers. It was warmer outside than the house. I wanted to cheer. It’s a sign of spring.

When I was a kid, my dog was named Duke. He was a boxer, a fawn boxer. In those days there was no leash law. Duke was a wanderer. Some mornings he’d follow us to school. My father would see him, call him and then go crazy when Duke ignored him so my father would hop in the car and go get him. Duke used to visit my aunt and get Sam to go play with him. Sam was his son. My favorite Duke story is when he followed my grandmother uptown. She wasn’t a dog lover. To try and get away, my grandmother went into Woolworth’s. Duke followed. Once inside, he lifted his leg on the comic book carousel. My grandmother was asked if he were her dog. She said no which was technically true. She left quickly. Duke, not her dog, followed right behind her.

I am not a lover of daily rituals yet I have a few. I take Gracie into the yard first. I start my coffee. While it is perking, I feed the cat, fill the water bowl and, after she comes inside, I give Gracie her treats. I drink a cup of coffee with each of the two papers. I thoroughly read each paper though I admit I only read baseball news on the sports pages and articles which catch my attention in the business section. I check my e-mail then hope for divine inspiration when I open WordPress. I have been writing Coffee for 12 years. Divine inspiration is all I have left after all this time.

The rest of the day is open. When I worked, I went to the dump on Sundays. Now I usually go on Thursdays, a quiet day at the dump, but any day will do. If I have any errands, I make a list and do them all in one day in geographic order hopping from village to village. Sometimes I get that favorite sandwich of mine at Buckies in Dennisport. I consider it a reward for doing all those errands.

When I get home, I put on my comfy clothes. The rest of the afternoon is for reading, maybe napping, doing chores like the laundry and if something is going on, watching the news on MSNBC. I check Facebook.

Dinner is whatever I have on hand which is sometimes as simple as an egg sandwich or cheese and crackers.

I go to bed, actually on the couch, whenever I’m tired. I seldom go early. Gracie sprawls at one end. I try to get comfortable around her.

That’s it. That is sort of my day every day.

 

“After the rain cometh the fair weather.”

April 1, 2017

“It’s raining. It’s pouring. The old man is snoring. He went to bed and bumped his head, and didn’t wake up in the morning.” My mother used to sing this to us on rainy days when we were little. I thought of it this morning when I heard the rain beating the roof.

Yesterday Gracie and I got all our errands done even though the rain started just as we were leaving the house and I was loading the car for the dump. Of course, it would start then! Rain tends to be inconvenient.

The dump was our first stop. It was fairly empty of cars. People far smarter than I stayed home. Gracie watched as I emptied the trunk. She stayed dry. Our next stop was the pharmacy to pick up Gracie’s prescription. I got wetter. Gracie kept watch out the window. We next went to the central administrative office for the school district where I worked. I needed a notary stamp on a form to prove I am still alive for the retirement board. I was thinking a picture of me holding the day’s paper might have been a neater proof of life, but I balked. Our last stop was for dinner. I bought a fresh pot pie.

I crossed off every item on my errand list and none on my to-do list because of the weather as items on that list were outside. They’ll have to wait yet another day. I did bring my laundry down to this floor where it is leaning against the cellar door. Given my laundry history, I figure it’ll lean there for a while.

I have a bunch of catalogs, assuming that catalogs come in bunches. I’ll spend the afternoon going through them, whiling away the hours. Sometimes I get lucky and even find a Christmas present or two to order.

Gracie hasn’t been out since last night. She stuck her nose out the door this morning and pulled it right back inside. I tried later and still no luck. She’s sleeping. That dog stores water like a camel.

It’s time for lunch.

“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.