Yes it is Hallow en and eerie spirits are about. My door is dark, I have no porch light anyway, and my lights are out so as not to lure ghosts and goblins up my sidewalk. They began with their sacks at six pm, no where near dark although the sun had set, and still more spooks, some looking suspiciously grown up, are coming at 8:40 in cars and vans because Abbot street has sidewalks on both sides. No stumbling on rough ground. Anyway I did not have the patience nor the where with all to play the witches game so I turned all lights off and enjoyed the dark from my sun room, cozily bundled in my blue robe and red slippers. A bright crescent moon smiled down in the clearness of the night showing black dancing leaves brushing the windows. And many stars are shining as well. Tom called and we talked for quite a while about the records he found of my dad’s life in Austria. He is enjoying finding his grandfather’s history. He has the history of my mother’s side back to the civil war verified by a newspaper clipping. I am enjoying the results of his efforts also. I wish you Happy Spirits!
Archive for October, 2011
Weather prophets forecast cooler temperatures for the coming week but I never suspected those would go below freezing. I partook of a Bud Lite at Drinking Liberally last night and although I noticed the cold air while walking to my car, I shrugged it off. After all it is late in October, the shorter days are here and Daylight Savings Time will soon end. As I surveyed the neighborhood I noticed folks had to scrape frost off car windows before going to work. Sure enough, I could see the frost on my own car when I looked. I did not rush out and scrape. The sun as weak as it is ought to melt it off before I have to drive somewhere, which I surely must do if I want milk on my oatmeal. I did however turn the electricity on the bedroom heaters. Time to get my winter boots out. The five hundred dollar knee high pair was a gift for my hours of volunteer work at McNary NWR. They will be great to wade through deep snow and toasty warm in the present weather. My floors are cold and remind me I must get weather stripping and install around my doors. A tiresome job well worth the effort to limit the frosty cold of winter to the outside.
The small turnout this morning at our Freethought was disappointing. Only Jesse, Frank, Scott and I were at Hastings in Richland for the meeting. Talk usually is channeled toward sex by one member no matter what other subject is brought up. Al invited me to a Burger King and so we left before an hour was up to drive the short distance for a good burger. Al is a good conversationalist and we talk of ice breakers, websites, our native gardens and of renewing old acquaintances. The talk went on until now – after 4 pm. Although we sat in a booth with the bright afternoon sun on our faces, the room and especially the floor was air conditioned. My feet felt frozen. I came home to get into my comfortable robe, socks and slippers so I could warm up from the top down. I was reminded to update the content of my websites. I have been negligent not so much on SR but on Atheistwa which needs new ungodly incites, and McNary that needs new photos and updates on the cam being installed by a Friends member and his son in law that will bring wildlife live on to the Education Center’s TV screen. The idea that people will be able to view the pond without walking the cement to the bird hide should be an incentive for folks to drive the fifteen miles to the Refuge. I hope that is not simply good talk.
The weather was pleasant and I moved boards to the street with a FREE sign so they will be hauled away. Also more old candidate signs went in the waste bin. Finally I knew I must bring in the mail – I did not look at yesterday’s either so I had a bag full. Two envelopes held utilities charges for which I must write checks for but twenty two others were requests for money. Two groups also include magazines with interesting articles to entertain as well as inform. Now all these claim to be very reputable organizations. Their letters outlined the precious work they do which would be impossible were it not for my generous donations. So give us more. It took almost an hour to open and peruse the information and I chucked a fair amount of loose paper for recycle in the process. The postal carriers bring four or five such business size letters every day. One surprise came from Yakima and it was for Ron. I think he once responded to a letter from Gloria Steinem but someone had dug back in some old mail receipts because Ron died in 1988. I suppose newly hired people are trying to make an impression on their managers and dig deep to prove their mettle. That letter was put off straight into the burn pile.
Even at mid October trees aggressively hold on to their leaves. Or maybe the leaves are the part determined to hang on to Indian summer. I am too. Temperature is slowly inching up to seventy from the forty seven I saw at six this morning. The wind informed me to bundle up if I was to be comfortable rocking in my Adirondack woody. So I did to watch the individual leaves bid adios (never adieu) to their stems and float slowly and carefully to the ground. The black walnut trees have turned a brilliant yellow and are letting go of those sugar manufacturing machines. That’s the way of shorter days when the sun seriously goes south for the winter. The birds that do migrate are long gone and the insects they fed on now flit around in Peter Pan delight. Vigilant spiders spin their sticky traps and feast on six legged bounty. My big red squirrels do their pruning of the nut trees when their weight bends the outer stems precariously as each acrobat claims its prize. When will the last leaf loose its glue and sail nonchalantly down to earth?
Margaret Munro had returned home from a Panama visit and wanted a few friends over to her house on Longfitt street. It had been years since I was in that part of town then only once to visit with Jay Leddingham so I had to ask Google for directions. Nine showed up: myself, Scip, Jim , Al, Frank, Mildred, and a Dyke with black hair, an annoying jerk of her head, and droopy pants who sometimes comes to Drink Liberally. Maybe the ninth person will come to me later. Or maybe I simply miscounted. Margaret served a pea, shrimp and macaroni salad, peas and chicken mix, Jack cheese on wheat crackers, candied almonds, pineapple chunks, pizza, coffee, red and white wine. Very tasty snacks and lovely conversation with the exception of occasional side observations on politics. I left my ears at home so I could avoid taking sides although I jumped in with appropriate reactions to obvious characteristic descriptions. The three-hour visit was delightful and ended with Al’s invitation to his place for a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. Now I am going to continue to read the Roosevelt era history as told by Pulitzer Prize winner, Doris Kearns Goodwin. Or maybe fall asleep in the process.
Button down loose stuff for winter. That’s what I did today. I gathered up what seemed to be hundreds of feet of hose I had laid out for lawn and tree watering, looped each length neatly and stored it in the tin shed to make it easier to bring out next spring to water once again. This desert air sucks the moisture out of the soil from way down. I will continue to water my spruce but with the watering can. That will mean more effort on my part but that is a great incentive to do my daily walkabout. I sorted stuff in the open shed and threw out frames and signs of past political candidates that had been displayed during their candidacy for local offices. I had kept them for posterity but changed my mind. I like a clean shed much better than the mess that what hardly passes for nostalgia. The hose wrestling was exhausting which required a long cozy nap to recoup. What a satisfaction to have a clear back yard for squirrels and cats. The calico feline came through this morning. The fluffy white one was here yesterday. I called to wish Ashton a Happy Birthday. She was celebrating with Ryan at a Hard Rock Cafe and the connection we had was noisy and breaking up but she got the idea. Now I sit wishing I had a drink but not wanting one badly enough to get dressed and drive to the liquor store. Way too worn from a great day outdoors – especially since I won the wrestle and laid all my hoses to the mat.
Whether my application of bright red fingernail polish is a sign of desire to bring back my youth or an intent to prevent ragged nails when I dig in the flower bed, I don’t know. Then again, in my ever present mode of ‘waste not’ I want to use up the leftover stuff Debbie gave me. The color (red has always been my favorite) brightens the ends of hard worked fingers that I squeeze and release to prevent developing arthritis. In the process my nails grow and I decided they looked best in red which I continue to admire. The biggest drawback is in typing. Fingertips often make erroneous key strokes because of the length of those nails. Like I can remove myself from reality by telling a tale in third person. If I can’t bear to cut them myself I can hire a manicurist to do the dastardly deed. There is drama for you! I have no intention of stepping into an arena to challenge a big angry bull with my fingernails or my cape. But I have no intention of giving up a perfect red.
This does not appear to be my day. First my computer came up blank. How awful. Finally the screen seemed to fade in from the top down. Second I cannot get into my gmail. I am sent through a silly routine where I must copy dizzy letters in a separate box. All I want to do is send a picture of my sheer drapes. So hang in there – that is to say send me an email message so I can reply and hope this machine responds.
No hurry to get up this morning, I watched the leaves outside my bedroom window dance in the breeze. This machine is really acting up. takes a few seconds for my words to show up as I type them. The screen remained blank for seconds when I opened the lid. What is going on? I hope this is not a malfunction which forebodes collapse altogether. On my walkabout this morning I worried over the old signs of political candidates. I had saved them as interesting history of those who were elected and some who weren’t. But they are part of the junk I promised myself to throw away. They are not easily physically fitted into the garbage bin and bending the wires that would support them in the ground for display was difficult. My wrists ache now from the strain, and less than a third of them are dumped. I am pleased with the cleaned shed, though, with the mud and junk removed, it is drying out but slowly. I wonder if I can advertise it free for its removal? It is not of much use to me if it cannot protect stuff from weather. Speaking of which, the temperature is taking on a chill that requires a robe while I enjoy coffee sitting in my cedar woody rocker. Tucked beside the house by my bedroom window it is cozy enough for lunchtime and coffee breaks. Anyway I have decided for sure and certain that the political candidate signs I cleaned out of the open shed are not destined for future reference unless noticed in the landfill next week. Let the candidates keep their own history. I am relic enough around here.