The road was wet when I woke up. It had rained. Just a little bit ago the rain started again. I heard it hitting the leaves near the deck. The weather forecast is for on and off rain with a high in the 70’s. We need the rain.

My trash bag, now on the kitchen floor, is deck bound. It has started to smell, the result of my frenzied fridge cleaning the other day. My next dump trip won’t be until Wednesday so the bag can keep outside until then. Today I’m headed to Agway for some pumpkins, fall flowers, cat food and cat treats. Henry has plenty of everything.

I admit to being nervous about riding around and stopping on a whim. I used to do that all the time. I’d get bored, load up Gracie and take a long ride. We’d sometimes stop to get ice cream: mine in a cone and Gracie’s scoop of vanilla in a cup. I’ve explained all this to Henry, especially the part about the ice cream. Maybe I can coax him into taking another ride with no stops.

I am neat, and things in my house have stayed in their places until now. After being inside so long, I wanted my house to have a different look so I’ve bought pillows, rearranged bric-a- brac and re-potted plants. The only room still needing my attention is my bedroom with a pile of Christmas presents and a new spread still in its bag. That spread, even covered, and Henry sprawled on it at night make me nervous. I admit a pre-covid piece still hangs with me, maybe even gotten a bit worse. When I walk down the hall, I use my sleeve to dust the small dresser, and I pick up any dust balls. From the den to the kitchen is the cleanest part of the house.

When I got back from Ghana, I didn’t eat Rice for a long time. I had eaten my fill when the rains were late, and rice was all I could buy in the market. We had bell peppers, grown from seeds we’d given the garden boy, so we ate a lot of stuffed peppers. The Ghanaians hated the bell peppers, no heat. Their peppers were all hot peppers of varying degrees. Jollof rice was the only rice dish I would always eat. On our last trip to Bolga, Bill and I Ate Jollof Rice every night. The hotel’s restaurant made great jollof rice and filled our plates. Every night we belonged to the clean plate club.