Posted tagged ‘Lunch’

“I should say: the house shelters day-dreaming, the house protects the dreamer, the house allows one to dream in peace.”

May 15, 2017

The house was cold when I woke up this morning. I had turned off the heat so it was only 63˚. Outside is damp and cold and filled with clouds. It will rain again. Right now it is 49˚. Such is spring near the ocean.

Mother’s Day was wonderful. My friend Tony feted his wife Clare and me. The table was lovely. Beside our place settings were cards and wrapped chocolates. My candy was wintergreen patties, one of my favorite. We started with shrimp cocktail and salad followed by dinner: chicken and mashed potatoes and hot rolls. I do love my mashed potatoes. Dessert was a light, creamy lime tart. Everything was perfect except I didn’t win our game of Phase 10. Clare exalted in her victory.

I have despaired of ever seeing the sun again. I have memories which are beginning to fade over time. Gracie and I have to go out today. Three stops are on my list. She will like two of them: Agway and the dump. I’ll like the third: Ring Brothers. There I can get the few items on my shopping list and maybe lunch. I’m thinking a thin crust pizza or maybe the soup of the day.

Gracie and I have to go out today. Three stops are on my list. She will like two of them: Agway and the dump. I’ll like the third: Ring Brothers. There I can get the few things on my shopping list and maybe lunch. I’m thinking a thin crust pizza or maybe the soup of the day.

 

 

I bought my house when I was 29. It came with nightmares. The mortgage was half my monthly salary. Out of the rest of my salary, I had to pay everything else including groceries. I was penurious. Buying the house meant no more traveling every summer, no more eating out and a moratorium on new clothes. It was make-do. I had little furniture. The phone guy came in and remarked I seemed to be living primitively. My desk was also my dining room table. My couch was my bed. All the furniture was in the downstairs bedroom renamed the den. Gradually I filled every room with furniture and doo-dads. My pay went up while my mortgage remained the same. It took five years, but I was finally able to travel again. I went to Europe. I was fulfilling my childhood dream to see the world, and, for the first time, I had a house and home waiting for me. I’m thinking life doesn’t get much better than that.

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“Everything is blooming most recklessly; if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the night.”

April 20, 2017

Sorry for the lateness of today’s musings. Last night Gracie had a bad evening which translated into a bad night for me. She fell asleep at the foot of the couch, and every time she moved I checked on her. She slept through the night. The last time I checked the clock it was 3:30. The next time it was 5:00. I spent the evening watching Netflix and reading. This morning Gracie was just fine. We went to the backyard three or four times. She was happy to be outside and went running into the yard from the gate.

We just got back from buying dog, cat, and me food. Gracie was hungry and just about snorted her dinner. I did the same with my lunch, a barbecue pork wrap. I also bought soup, beef barley and turkey noodle, and a roast beef sandwich for tonight. It was a banner shopping trip.

It poured last night. Even on this floor I could hear the rain pounding the roof. I don’t know when it stopped, but it left a gray, ugly day; however, there was a bright spot. There’s always a bright spot if you pay attention. I saw the sun. Okay, not the sun as it’s so cloudy, but the forsythia are in bloom and bright yellow flowers are everywhere. They almost make me forget the clouds.

I’m going to nap today. Gracie and I will curl up on the couch and be cozy and warm. She is already napping stretched out on the couch beside me.

Sometimes I have a craving for something salty. When I do, I always think of that Star Trek episode when Kirk visits his one-time girlfriend and her husband on some planet. The first murder victim is the red shirt. Everyone knows that on an away mission the red-shirted crewman is doomed. All the salt was sucked from his body. Come to find out, that old girlfriend was really a salt sucking monster. I can sympathize.

Every day new blossoms open in my front garden. When I get the papers, I stop to look at all that beauty. What a wonderful way to start the day.

 

“Money is better than poverty, if only for financial reasons.”

February 23, 2017

Gracie and I were out and about yesterday. The weather was amazing. It was sunny and warm: sweatshirt weather. Today is much the same, and Gracie and I have a few errands: buying canned dog food at Agway, a few storage bins at Benny’s and my favorite sandwich at Buckies, number 14: bacon and cheddar with tomatoes, avocado, and horseradish sauce on a panini. Life is good.

Snow is still around on corners and in the shade, but it is warm enough that I can leave my inside doors open to the storm doors. Gracie goes in and out her dog door, and, best of all, she gets to watch the doings on the street from the front door. She sits and looks hoping for a bit of activity. Every now and then she barks. I check, and usually it’s someone walking a dog. Gracie does not like dogs walking on her street and makes no bones about it.

I have a new bird feeder, a bag of sunflower seeds, and two packs of suet. Cleaning the older feeders and filling them is on my to-do list for later. Loading my shotgun to attend to the spawns of Satan is next on the list (okay, I don’t have a gun, but I do wish the spawns would disappear).

I haven’t used real money in a while. The 3 dollars in my wallet are weeks old. Mostly I use my ATM to pay for stuff though sometimes I do use my credit card, mostly at the pharmacy. I don’t write many checks anymore. I pay my bills on line or have the amounts automatically deducted. I don’t really need much money. It seems to have gone out of style.

When I went to Ghana last fall, I brought some cash but mostly I used my ATM to get money as no one in the markets, the small stores and kiosks or the sides of the road take other than cash. I did use my ATM card at Zaina Lodge and my credit card in one large shop by the ocean in Accra. Money still counts in Ghana. I kept a pocketful.

Gracie is giving me the paw, her signal that it’s time to eat. I doubt she’ll accept that I have none left so I need to get going. Gracie want to eat!

“Everything I buy is vintage and smells funny. Maybe that’s why I don’t have a boyfriend.”

December 1, 2016

Today is more than enough to make up for all that rain. Mother Nature is back in my good graces. The day is warm. I went to get the papers in a short sleeve shirt and wasn’t even cold. The sun is brilliant and perfectly framed by the blue sky. A little breeze has the brown leaves dancing at the end of their branches. I made a list of places to go today so I can enjoy the day.

The dog door is complete. Yesterday I ran into my friend and explained my problem with the plastic part of the dog door. His dog also has one so I figured he might have a solution. Washers! That was it, all I needed. I went to the hardware store and gave the man one of the small screws, asked for some with larger heads and some washers. He brought me both for the grand total of 98 cents. Two of the holes used the larger headed screws while the other holes needed the washers. Gracie has been in and out that door all morning.

It rained again yesterday, but I still went to do errands. Gracie needed dog food. That was enough incentive to get me out into the rain, but I did treat myself and bought lunch and some anise cookies. Life is good.

This week I will start decorating my house for Christmas. One side of my cellar is filled with bins of decorations. I have a whole collection of plastic lighted figures, mostly Santa Clauses. On the back wall are bins I haven’t opened in a few years. I’m hoping I can make my way back there to see what’s in those bins. I like surprises. Many of my decorations, like the Santas, are vintage and some are mighty ugly, but I don’t care. I think everything Christmas has an intrinsic beauty, even the ceramic angels, Santa mugs and really gross elves with scary faces. I was thrilled last Christmas to find out my nephew collects those vintage plastic lighted figures. He got a snowman as a gift last year. I didn’t know anyone else shared my taste.

That load of washing is still in front of the cellar door. Maybe I’ll get to it tomorrow. But then again, maybe not.

“Football is the ballet of the masses.”

January 11, 2015

I’m still trying to catch my breath after watching the Patriot’s playoff game yesterday. It wasn’t a pretty game. The defense left holes big enough for tanks to drive through. Twice the Pats were down by 14. It wasn’t until the fourth quarter when Brady hit LaFell with a pass along the left sideline that the Pats went ahead for the first time: 35-31 which would be the final score. We cheered, yelled, whined, complained and even booed a couple of times. Flacco tried a Hail Mary with a couple of seconds left, but the end zone was so filled with players, including Gronk, that the ball was deflected. We finally got to breathe.

When the game started, it was 19˚ at Gillette then it got colder. Today is relatively warm at 26˚. Tomorrow will be a one day heat wave in the 40’s. I’m trying to remember where I put my sandals.

When I was a little kid and had to walk to school, my mother dressed me in so many layers the clothes barely fit on one hook in the cloakroom. It took what seemed forever to get down to my school uniform, the first layer. The cloakroom had two rows of hooks on both sides on the walls, and in winter, there was no easy path to move through all the clothes to get to the classroom. Coats and jackets ended up on the floor so Sister Redempta, my first grade teacher, used to make us go back out and hang up all the jackets. She had an aversion to mess. I think that was a nun thing.

I still have the most amazing visual memory of that first grade cloakroom. It had wooden walls, a wide opening by the main classroom door and a door at the other opposite end which led to the classroom, to the aisle near the windows. The bottom rows of hooks were indented beneath the top rows. The floor was tile. The optimum spots for hanging jackets were the lower hooks. On rainy days, our jackets usually dried as they were in the open air, not in some lockers.

I lost my cloakrooms in the fifth grade when we moved to the new school. It had lockers with no locks or combinations which didn’t phase us at all. We were used to cloakrooms with open access. Besides, I had nothing valuable except my lunch: my bologna sandwich, chips and if I were lucky, a Ring Ding or a Devil Dog.

“A bicycle ride around the world begins with a single pedal stroke.”

May 2, 2014

The sun is breaking through the clouds. Today will be spring.

This shoulder season is my least favorite time of year. Of late, I have been tired and bored. The cold and the rain have made exploring less inviting. Afternoon naps while away the time but make me no less lazy. A few errands force me out of the house, and even though I complain, I am grateful for the change. Today is one of those days.

When I was a kid, we didn’t have decks or porches or patios. We just had backyards, unfenced expanses of grass dotted with clothes lines close to each house. The little kids mostly stayed in those yards. My sisters sat on the back-steps right outside the door and played with their dolls. My mother could hear and see them, but she never really worried. They wouldn’t stray and the whole neighborhood kept an eye. We older kids would never be caught playing in the backyard during the daylight. We had the freedom of bikes. My mother would do her parental duty and ask where we were going. We seldom had an answer as we seldom had a destination. “Just around,” was our usual reply, and that was exactly where we went. We never had any money, not even the wealth of a dime or a quarter. Sometimes we made lunch, mostly a sandwich and some Oreos, and we’d stop somewhere to eat at no given time just when we got hungry. If something caught our eyes, we’d investigate. We’d stop, use the kickstand on our bikes and walk to see what was around. Sometimes we’d ride uptown, walk our bikes on the sidewalk and look at store windows. My favorite window was at the fish market. A tank took up most of the window and lobsters took up most of the tank. We’d stop at the Woolworth’s window and Kennedy’s Cheese and Butter Store where barrels sat out front and the window had chunks of cheese which was foreign to us. My mother never bought cheese in chunks. We’d usually end our uptown tour there and head down the street pass the fire station, the town hall, our school and church and the convent. By then it was late afternoon, and during this time of year it was getting cooler as the sun set. We’d get home, maneuver our bikes down the stairs into the cellar and go up stairs to watch a bit of TV until my mother had dinner ready. I remember lots of westerns and hot dogs, beans and brown bread.

“I love zombies. If any monster could Riverdance, it would be zombies.”

April 1, 2014

This has been a busy morning. First was a follow-up doctor’s appointment in Hyannis then the optometrist in South Yarmouth to get my glasses fixed. The easy part was putting them back together. The difficult part was trying to straighten out the ear pieces. They were all bent from my fall into the roots. All went well. Next was getting the dog license and paying my car excise tax, both at the Dennis town hall. Last was a stop for bread, some fruit and a cupcake. It was there I dropped the new dog license and it disappeared. Three people looked and it was nowhere to be found. We figured it bounced onto shelf or was somehow transported to a parallel world.

The sun was out for five minutes. My glasses even tinted, but it clouded up again. I am the little girl in Ray Bradbury’s All Summer in a Day. The clouds are on their fourth day. Today is cold, in the high 30’s.

Zombies have taken over. Vampires are passé. Zombies are far uglier and fairly difficult to kill though they are already dead. Usually a bullet to the head or lopping off the head means a permanent end to the zombie. Today I watched Detention of the Dead. High schoolers in detention have to fight ravenous zombies who have taken over their school. It was actually funny, sort of a zombie ridden Breakfast Club.

Aliens and monsters have a heyday then disappear. No more are we attacked by creatures like the giant ants created by the nuclear blasts of the fifties. Tokyo is no longer a fun target for Godzilla and his kin. The space station doesn’t attract aliens the way a mission to Mars did. We have become unimaginative. Zombies are just too easy. Rip a bit of flesh, walk stiffly and have blood dripping. Where’s the creativity in that?