My muse has deserted me, gone to warmer climes. We are mired in the 20’s. I have no inclination to go outside. I’ll just enjoy this lovely sunny day from inside the house. My dance card is empty. I get to stay home dressed in my comfiest clothes, in my flannel pants and hoodie. I’m going to schedule a nap. The dogs are ahead of me. They are both asleep on the couch.

The front steps are icy. I held on to the door to keep from sliding. When I got on the walkway, the sun glinting off the snow was so bright I couldn’t see when I went to get the paper. I stood unmoving on the walkway until my eyes adjusted. I made it safely from in to out and back again.

Adjectives to describe me today include sluggish, lethargic and my personal favorite, torpid. I think I can even out sloth a sloth. I am a champion of inertia.

My mother often gave me soup in my thermos on freezing days like today. Mostly it was either chicken noodle or tomato. She’d add a spoon, Saltines, a half sandwich and dessert, usually cookies, to my lunchbox. On the days after she’d grocery shopped, I’ll sometimes get a Hostess snack. I didn’t have a favorite. I loved the cream centers of the cupcakes. First, I’d pull off the chocolate frosting and put it to aside. It came off in one piece. Next, I’d eat my way to the cream center. The frosting was last (the icing off the cake, sorry I had to). My second favorite treat was Hostess Snoballs. It didn’t matter the color of the Snoballs. The pink and white marshmallow frosting tasted the same. My favorite part was the frosting was covered in specks of coconut. As with the cupcakes, I took the frosting off first and put it aside. It too came off in one piece. I always saved it for last.

I need to make more coffee.

The weather is so much warmer today, sunning weather at 34°. Some of the snow is melting. I can hear the sounds of the drips falling from the roof. The sun is shining. The blue sky is cloudless. The air is so still even the smallest branches don’t move. The dogs are out longer. It is a lovely day.

When I was a kid, I used to go to the library often. I loved the children’s side. The chairs were wooden. Some were captains’ chairs with arms. They were all around the long tables. None of the shelves were up very high. I remember the science fiction section had two of the tallest shelves. My other favorite shelves, the folklore shelves, were short, about to my waist. The librarian’s area was in the middle of the room and faced the door. The librarian was iconic. She was an older woman who wore a flowered dress and those old lady shoes with clunky heels. Her hair was in a bun. She didn’t tolerate noise or conversation. She’d shush us. At the desk, she’d take the books I wanted then stamp the due date on the sheet glued to the back page. I always brought my books back early. I didn’t want to risk the penny a day late fee.

I do like to read real books, to hold them in my hands. I like turning pages. I like seeing my progress, how many pages I have read and how many more I have to read. My iPad has many books. All of them were free to download. I go there when I have run out of paper books.

I loved when I traveled. Books were prized. In hostels books were a hot commonly to be traded. I used to hunt bookstores selling books in English. Mostly I’d find one in a big city. I’d carry the books in my backpack and read them on long trips in buses or trains. In Ghana, the official language is English. My town had a store which sold books. I bought several of the African Writers Series, one of each that they sold there. I sent them home. I read every one of them. I even chose Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe for my English classes, in Ghana and here. The University of Legon in Accra had a good bookstore. Just after I was sworn in as a volunteer and before I left to go upcountry to my town, I bought several books. They were a treasure trove. My town, Bolga, didn’t have much, but it did have a library. I always thought myself blessed.