Posted tagged ‘perfect weather’

“Such bees! Bilbo had never seen anything like them. “If one were to sting me,” He thought “I should swell up as big as I am!”

September 12, 2017

Alexa woke me up this morning as I had an early library board meeting. When I heard her dulcet tones, I said thank you without thinking. Alexa said, “You’re welcome.” I’m going to start calling her Hal.

Today and tomorrow are predicted to be perfect fall days. It will be in the high 70’s today and down to the 50’s at night. Tomorrow will be about the same but a little warmer when the sun goes down.

The flowers on my front fence are bee magnets. When I went through the gate this morning, I brushed against the flowers and disturbed a few bees who then flew around  Gracie and me. She didn’t care, but I was a bit unnerved because when I was a kid, I was stung by a bee. We were in Maine on vacation. The house where we stayed was up the hill from the ocean and was surrounded by trees, but if you walked a bit, you came to fields overgrown with wildflowers. One day we explored. As we walked through the fields, bees rose from the flowers. I swear there were hundreds, but I admit the sting probably skewed my perspective. One bee flew around me and then stung me on the head. I yelled, well, maybe I screamed. I said I’d been stung. My parents checked my head and said the bee wasn’t there. I knew it was so I yelled again. They rechecked. They found the bee which I swear had bitten me two or three times. I can still see that field in my mind’s eye. I’n not afraid of bees despite that experience, but I don’t like them either.

I’ve mentioned how much I hate the Dole ad about the mixed doubles fruit cup drainers who are assailed by the Dole sipper who tells her husband, “Oh, they’re drainers.”  As she says this, the sipper’s face shows perfectly the distain in her voice. This commercial has disappeared, but the sipper is back. This time she is in the aquarium, and she is still a know-it-all who just happens to have an extra Dole juice cup on hand to give her drainer friend when she has her fruit epiphany.

Yesterday I took a nap and stayed around the house so today I have yesterday’s errands That’s it for my list. That’s it for the day’s activities.

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“The brain may die, but my compulsion for useless trivia lives on.”

September 17, 2016

3 days and counting!

The perfect weather continues. It is as if Mother Nature is apologizing for all that heat in August. The days are warm and the nights cool, even cold. If I were given the power to control the weather, I would first make it rain then I would create days just like today.

All over my table are sticky notes. Some are related to my trip like a list of passwords and a  list of things to pack I might not remember like the travel toilet paper, an essential in Ghana, another is new TV programs I want to DVR while I’m gone. The list of stuff I need at Stop and Shop keeps getting bigger. Today I added a small notepad and AA batteries.

Yesterday I set a new record at Agway. I bought everything the cats and Gracie need while I’m gone. I spent $223.00. A brass band accompanied me to the car. The band major twirled his baton as I filled the trunk. Most of the stuff is still there. Leandro, one-half of my cleaning couple, is coming today with his mother Lu, my pet and house sitter. Lee is always quite happy to bring the heavy stuff into the house. I, however, had to drag the heavy dry dog food, a can of dog food, three cans of cat food and a bag of treats into the house this morning. My back is moaning quite loudly.

The street is quiet this morning for a Saturday. I wonder where all the kids are.

Learning new things is fun for me. I have this weird memory which holds on to facts and information seldom needed. That makes me good at trivia. Once I was quite able to remember Ernie the Keebler Elf and Thimble Theater, where  Popeye first appeared. My team accepted Ernie but not Popeye. I forget which character they chose, but they were wrong. Coming up with Popeye is what I mean by a weird memory.

My sister is getting tired of me talking about Ghana. She doesn’t get it, how important the country is to me. I have all these memories rushing to the front from the back drawers of my memory cabinet. I’m almost gushing.

Well, according to my list, I have much to do. I need to be off and loping, not running-I am passed that.

“As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect.”

July 18, 2014

Today is the sort of day Adam and Eve gave up when they ate fruit for lunch. The morning is cool and there’s no humidity. The sun is sharp bright and everything seems to pop in the light. The breeze is just right. I stood on the deck for a while and watched the birds, so many birds at the feeders I filled.

I never left the house yesterday. Truth to tell, I never even got dressed. It was just that sort of a day, one which lent itself either to pure leisure or sloth. You can decide which it was. I choose leisure. It has a more pleasant connotation. I did at least make my bed which gave me a sense of accomplishment. Everything is relative.

My dance card is empty today. That’s fine with me as I have settled into a summer mode of living. The deck is my go-to-it spot, and I love a little nap in the afternoon. Meals are catch as catch can, whatever I can scrounge from the refrigerator. I’m not fussy. It’s a permanent summer vacation.

My eye is swollen and has a bump right below the corner. I’m thinking a bite of some sort, maybe a spider. It’s creepy to think that while I was sleeping something was crawling on my face looking for dinner. If this were a science fiction movie, that bump would be where the man-eating spiders are gestating. The bump would get bigger, start to pulsate and a hungry brood would emerge looking for food, and there I’d be. The plot has more to it, but I’ll leave the rest up to your imaginations. Just think open mouth screaming and go from there.

I was never afraid of snakes or bugs when I was growing up. I was curious more than anything though I do admit to screaming in pain when I got bitten by a bee on the top of my head. The most amazing bug I ever saw was a centipede. It was walking down a tree trunk near where I was sitting behind my house in Ghana. If I had been Ghanaian, I would have grabbed it, roasted it and eaten it with soup.

Around here there are no spectacular bugs. I’m not sure whether I should be glad or disappointed.

“Wherever it came from, the musical came with its hair mussed and with an innocent, indolent, irreverent look on its bright, bland face.”

August 9, 2011

It’s a beautiful day in our neighborhood. The sun is brightly shining and glinting sharply here and there between the leaves of the oak trees. Even the horrific tenants next door are quiet enough so I can open my window. The birds are singing, happily I presume, and they’re at the feeders enjoying breakfast. Gracie and the cats are napping. It feels idyllic, perfect to inspire some sort of a poem, a short one like an Emily Dickinson’s.

I’m going off cape today to the Apple store. I probably shouldn’t as it is an occasion for sin as the nuns would say. I think the Apple store entices me to spend and be an electronic glutton, but I’m looking for some technical help. When I bought my Mac, I paid for one on one tutoring, and that’s what I’m getting today. I figured out to copy the Ghana 1969-1971 DVD Tim made but got flummoxed when it appeared as two files so I couldn’t figure out how to copy it. They’ll show me, and by the time I get home, I’ll have forgotten so I’m bringing a pad of paper.

This is a busy week for me with something every day. Most are social events. The play this week on Friday is another musical. My friend, Tony, a musician, gets personally offended because I don’t like musicals. I tell him I love music, but that doesn’t soothe his feelings which I hate to hurt, but I can’t lie. I love drama and mystery and comedies, not a play where someone sings when words could work as well or even better. I appreciate music, but I appreciate even more the turn of a phrase or the cleverness of a playwright. I’ll go this week as I skipped the last musical, but I saw a musical just last week at the other theater so I think I’m being punished.

I figure hell isn’t fire and brimstone. We are stuck for eternity with what drives us crazy. People who don’t like kids will be in a room with thousands of terrible two’s all of whom need their diapers changed. Speed demons will be buckled into cars which go no more than 5 MPH.  Beer drinkers, never seen without a bottle in hand, will be a hand’s length away from an ever flowing tap. I will be stuck in a theater watching the same musical over and over. It will be one like Carrie which is on every worst musical list. The devil will chose singers who sing off-key, which, I suppose, doesn’t make them singers at all. I will have to sit there performance after performance listening to lines like,

“All we ever do is park
Then for hours you grope me in the dark”