Posted tagged ‘trash’

“Shut the door not that it lets in the cold but that it lets out the coziness.”

February 16, 2017

Last night we had a sprinkling of snow, less than an inch. The sun was out when I woke up but has since given way to clouds. The melting has stopped. Cold is creeping in, and it is down to 32˚. We’ll have flurries today.

Yesterday it poured most of the day. Gracie and I went to the dump, and, of course, it started to rain just then. I got wet.

I’m ignoring my lists. The last few days I have been lazy and have crossed off nothing, except the trash and the dump from Saturday’s list.

Winter is a time for hibernation, and I think I’m hibernating in my own way. My days are routine. I mostly stay inside. I find ways to keep myself occupied. I watch TV. I read, and every now and then I randomly clean. I live in my comfy clothes. Afternoon naps are common. The phone rings and strange phone numbers from all over the country appear in the corner of my TV. I don’t ever answer, and they don’t ever leave a message. They interrupt my naps.

Spring training has started. The Globe is filled with baseball stories. I read them all. Thoughts of baseball conjure green grass, warm days and steamed hot dogs.

I hate commercials, but I don’t hate them all equally. Some I hate more than others. The Dole fruit cup commercial where the haughty woman says to her husband, “Oh, they are drainers,” is the worst. She looks at the other couple as if they are plague carriers instead of drinkers of sweetened fruit juice. I change the station.

The catalogs stopped for a while, after the Christmas sales were over, but now they’re back. Some I toss right away into the recycle bag. Others I thumb through hoping to find a treasure.

It’s time for lunch: chicken noodle soup from one of my favorite places, Spinners. The soup is perfect for a cold winter’s day. It warms the innards.

“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.

“Even though it’s dark and cold there is always a shade of light.”

November 27, 2016

The turkeys know they are free to come out of hiding. Yesterday I saw 14 of them taking their time strolling across a lawn, stopping to scratch for food or just standing there looking majestic which is quite a feat for turkeys to pull off. I got out of the car and used my phone for pictures wishing I had my camera with me. They began moving away one by one from me while still looking for food. I watched as the stragglers caught up with the rest of the rafter then I drove away.

It rained on and off as I shopped yesterday. I didn’t go to many stores, but I still managed to spend a bit of money. My last stop was for a few groceries and lunch. I treated myself to a quesadilla, a pulled pork quesadilla with a side of guacamole. I bought Gracie a special biscuit. I bought all the ingredients for a chocolate cream pie for game night tonight, but we’re not having a game night. I don’t dare to make the pie anyway as I’d eat it all.

Today is a lovely day, sunny and seasonally warm. My dance card has only a single item, the dump. I’ve already filled most of the trunk and have only a couple of bundles sitting by the front door waiting to be put into the car. Gracie will go crazy when she sees me going outside. She’ll know it is dump day.

I put a new plastic on the dog door. The old one was disgusting. Gracie now stands on the deck and looks through the clear plastic to the kitchen. I have no idea what she is looking for, but whatever it is makes no never mind. She comes in when she sees me. This morning the plastic was on the ground. The four screws didn’t seem to hold it. Two of the holes were bigger than the screws, but they were the same as on the old plastic which held for years. I must have forgotten the trick of making the screws stay in the holes. I tried again this morning and screwed them back into the plastic. I have high hopes.

Some of my neighbors have their houses lit for Christmas. It makes me anxious to have my house and deck lit. I love the way the colored lights in the front and the bright white star on the gate shine through the darkest of nights. I sometimes sit in my car just looking at my house and yard.

 

“It takes darkness to be aware of the light.”

November 12, 2016

As silly and as childish as it sounds, I want to shake Gracie and Maddie so they can’t sleep. They managed to keep waking me up last night. Gracie was snoring and Maddie was howling. Right now both of them are enjoying their morning naps. They are deeply asleep.  I’m tired.

The weather is consistent. Every day has been in the mid 40’s. Last night the wind howled, and, sure enough, my lawn is covered again. Today is still. It is as if the wind has worn itself out. Later in the week, it will get warmer, to the high 50’s, Indian summer weather.

I am finally getting tired of seeing the laundry bags by the cellar door. I add more wash every day so the bags are filled. It’s time to do the dreaded chore.

Some days I actually have the wherewithal to attack and complete the chore list, maybe because the list is small or maybe because I feel guilty about putting things off for so long. Nope, it isn’t guilt.

The dump is on our list for tomorrow. My trunk is getting filled and more trash bags are still to come. I have to clean the cat box  and add it to the trunk load. I’ll be very careful as last week the litter bag opened and the trunk was filled with the loose litter from the bag. My newspaper and catalogue recycle bags are heavy. Every day I get huge numbers of catalogues. I go through most of them in case something catches my eye though I haven’t much Christmas shopping left to do. I just like looking.

My deck is still open only because Skip, my factotum, hasn’t gotten here yet. I have called, but he hasn’t called me back even though his wife said she’d take of it. I’m thinking it is getting close to Christmas lights so he might as well do both at the same time. I always hate it when the deck is closed. It is the acknowledgement that summer and the warm days of fall have ended. The deck looks so deserted with most of the furniture and the two umbrellas covered. The Christmas lights, though, do brighten the deck and the yard. They keep me going until Little Christmas. That’s when the whole yard is winter: deserted, cold and dark.

 

“In the winter she curls up around a good book and dreams away the cold. “

January 15, 2015

I rued my yesterday’s decision not to go to the dump because it was cold and there were snow showers. I just stayed home and read and fed Gracie her last can of dog food. That, of course, meant I had no choice but to go out today, a rainy, cold and ugly day.

Going to the dump was a necessity. My trunk was filled with used litter, recycled magazines and newspapers and trash. The cardboard was in the front seat. Not unexpectedly, the dump was pretty much deserted. It could have been the setting for some post apocalyptic movie where most of mankind had been destroyed. Only one other fool was dumping trash. Even the guys who work there had sought shelter and were nowhere to be seen. I got wet and I got cold, and my sweatshirt felt heavy from the rain. When I got back into the car, Gracie, dry and warm, greeted me. I sat for a bit with my fingers in front of the blower. Luckily we had only one more stop: Agway for canned dog food, dog treats and litter. Like the dump, Agway was pretty deserted. It had  one other customer besides me.

The older I get the less I abide bad weather. My mother used to keep her house at 70˚ or more during the winter. We all complained and wore t-shirts. Now I understand.

Lots of things drive me crazy, some of them even silly things. On the news, the on-site reporters keep nodding as they listen to questions from the studio. I get the delay, but why do they nod? I want one of them to shake his or her head just for the heck of it. Speaking of the news, what’s with all the repetition? I heard breaking news at the start of the broadcast. It wasn’t. It was the same news and the same videos which had been reported at noon and now again at six. Today I saw the same Patriot’s video I watched on last night’s six and eleven o’clock news.

I’m watching Adam 12. We used to watch it all the time, “One Adam-12, see the man.” It hasn’t aged well.

“I go running when I have to. When the ice cream truck is doing sixty.”

September 28, 2014

Summer has stayed another day. The birds are flying in and out of the feeders, the red spawn has been soaked by the hose a couple of times, kids are riding their bikes up and down the street and the insects are singing. It is a wonderful day.

When I was a kid, my street was visited by so many people doing so many different things. There was the milkman whose bottles clanged in his metal holder as he walked to the back door, the sharpener man who rode a bike with a pedal driven honing wheel and who stopped to sharpen knives and scissors, the trash men who came once a week who carried their barrels behind their backs with one hand, the garbage man who also came once a week, the summer ice cream man who came every day, the junk man who shouted for rags and newspapers from his horse-drawn wagon and the mailman who knew everybody and always stopped to talk. The only name we kids knew was Johnny the ice cream man.

My favorite was the sharpener man. I loved to watch him sharpen knives as the wheel whirled. He pedaled fast and turned the knife from side to side then checked sharpness using his finger across the blade. He never cut himself. That amazed me.

Only the mailman is left, and he uses a truck. I take my own trash to the dump and the newspapers get recycled. My knives are quite dull, but I just bought a new sharpener so I’m hoping for the best. I’m also hoping I don’t cut myself prone as I am to self-inflicted injuries. There used to be an ice cream truck with bells playing a tune, but I haven’t heard or seen one on a while.

My neighborhood is a good one with lots of kids, friendly neighbors and dear friends, but I bemoan the loss of these men from our childhood. They provided services but most of all they provided color, smells and sounds to our lives. I still remember the sound of the wheel and the knife, the clop of the horse on the street and Johnny’s bell, that last one most of all.

“The Sun, with all the planets revolving around it, and depending on it, can still ripen a bunch of grapes as though it had nothing else in the Universe to do.”

April 27, 2012

When I opened the front door this morning, the sun came pouring in then just a little bit later it disappeared. It’s appeared again, and Fern is lying straight out on her back basking in the sun. A breeze makes the day seem colder than it is and is strong enough to sway the bird feeders, but the birds don’t seem to mind. Male goldfinches with their bright yellow chests, a pair of cardinals, my friends the chickadees and the nuthatches and titmice are all dropping by for a late breakfast.

I have nothing planned for today. I’m thinking a sloth day. I’ll make my bed, brush my teeth, feed the animals and that’s about it. I see an afternoon nap in my future.

There are leaves on the top of the oak tree near the deck. The leaves are tiny, but I don’t care. They are the first stirrings of spring in my yard beyond the blooming of the bulbs I planted last fall. Some of my neighbors’ trees are already leafy, but those trees sit where the sun warms them most of the day. I think it won’t be long before my trees are leafy enough to hide the deck, and I’ll be back to sitting in a tree house high above the ground.

When I see movies where one of the characters is told to pack a bag, grab her passport and leave on the next plane, I always wish I had a job like that, one where exotic places become almost commonplace, and I know the best restaurant where the locals eat, probably a small place on a side street that only a discerning eye could find. I guess I’d have to be a spy for such spontaneous flight as a job in business would be far more planned. No question about it: I’d be better suited for being a spy than a businesswoman.

My trunk is filled with the week’s trash, litter and recyclables, but I’m not going to the dump. Last week I went on Friday and upset the fragile balance of my world. Gracie and I will wait for tomorrow and all will be right with our world.