The morning is ugly, pretty much the same as yesterday’s morning, dark and uninviting. It is raining and only 47°. The tree outside my den window has more colored leaves and more bare branches. The wind is pretty strong. Old Man Winter is knocking at the door. He is getting more insistent.

When I was a kid, I dreaded the change from fall to winter. Out came the heavy coat, the knee socks, my mittens and the hat my mother demanded I wear. She always said we lost most of our body heat through our heads. I hated wearing a hat, but I believed my mother. Much later, I found out it is a myth, an old wives’ tale, one I’m sure my mother believed. It probably came from her mother and her mother’s mother and all the way back from there. I have hats stored in a basket underneath my coat rack, but I seldom wear them. One of them, a knitted hat with a pompom, I have had since high school.

I love mittens. I have several pairs. They keep my hands warmer than gloves do, but I do keep some gloves in the car, sort of as an emergency supply. I have two pairs of favorite mittens, both were knitted by a friend many years ago. I remember when I was a kid, my mittens would get heavy with frozen snow. The bottoms sort of hung. I’d shake the mittens and ice would fly. Once I was inside the house for good, my mittens went on the top of the radiator to dry. You could sometimes see a bit of smoke from the radiator heat melting the snow. I loved those radiators. They made the best sounds, gurgling and hissing. I’d sit in front of one and put my feet under it to get warm.

At school, I’d put my mittens up my sleeves so I wouldn’t lose them, but I remember sometimes I’d have an odd pair of two different mittens because one of each pair had gone astray.

Today is a nothing day. I have no lists and an empty dance card. I vacuumed yesterday. I will probably water my plants today. That is all the energy I intend to expend.

Today is a truly ugly day. It is a rainy, dark day. I can hear drops hitting the barbecue. A wind blows the leaves. From my window, I can see the yellow, orange leaves turning and spinning. There will be fewer still hanging after the storm. My house was cold when I woke up, down to 63°. I turned on the heat. Now my house is comfy. The dogs are sleeping, Nala beside me and Henry on my bed. They live the good life.

When I was a kid, I liked a rainy afternoon. I’d snuggle in bed, the light over my headboard lit, and I’d read. I always had a book. After I’d get my allowance on Friday, I’d walk uptown to the Children’s Corner, a clothing store which had a bookcase in the back where they sold Whitman Publishing Company books. The books were only 49 cents which worked out perfectly as my allowance was 50 cents. The change was worth one penny candy. Whitman published Tricia Belden, a girl detective. I liked her more than I liked Nancy Drew as Trixie was a regular kid. During the week, I’d often walk to the library after school and take home as many books as I was allowed.

When I was in high school, we’d sometimes go to Revere Beach. It had rides, games, bars and restaurants. We’d ride the roller coaster and the round ride that went fast in circles and sort of plastered you against the wall. We’d eat a hot dog or a slice of pizza. We never played any of the games. What I liked the most were the lights. All the outside railings of the roller coaster were lit with white lights and the cars too were lit with lights. I also remember how loud the cars were clicking and clicking on the track. Corners were brutal. There were no seat belts, just a rail in front of the passengers to hold them inside the cars. I remember the anticipation as the coaster chugged up the first high hill. We knew what was coming. The downhill was really fast especially around corners. We all yelled. A few of the intrepids held their hands above their heads. I didn’t.

Sunday we have a uke concert. We also have one on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. Add practice and my lesson. That doesn’t leave much time. When will I nap?