When I left at 8:40 for my uke lesson, it was 17˚. The inside front and rear car windows were frost-filled. My seat was icy-cold. I had left the driver’s side window opened a crack during the last rain storm. I left for my lesson when I could see through the windshield. By the time I got to Upper Country Road, my windshield was completely clean. By the time I got to Harwich, I had defrosted the seat. After my lesson, the temperature was 21˚. It is getting balmy

Christmas times are my favorite memories just as Christmas is my favorite holiday. When I was a kid, it was the anticipation of Christmas which kept us so excited. Every day got closer and closer and it got harder and harder for us to sit still. My mother kept us busy after school when it was too cold or too dark to go out and play. We made Christmas cards out of construction paper. Snowflakes were cut from folded white paper. The multi-colored garland of construction paper first had to be cut into single strips then each strip had to be glued together. I remember winding it around the tree. A few pieces would pop open. It was triage for a while. In my first Christmas here, I had very little money, but I bought a tree. My mother gave me some lights and a few ornaments. I made a garland of construction paper. Remembering the glued garland which always popped open, I stapled mine.

On Christmas in Ghana, my first year away, I knew it would be the time I most missed home, and I did for a bit but then I didn’t. My town was a jumping off spot to go north into then Upper Volta, now Burkina Faso, Niger, the Sahara and even further into the desert. Custom was that volunteers host other volunteers who appear on your doorstep whether you know the volunteer or not. I had a few at my house. We decided on a Christmas party. We convinced the bar in town to sell us beer. I made cookies and bought bread and meat. The others either brought food or gave the host money. I had a small tree my mother had sent and crepe paper that looked liked bricks. A small stocking was attached. That night the house was full. We sang carols, laughed, ate, drank and had a great time. It was a different but no less wonderful Christmas Eve, but I do remember someone saying he’d sing every song but not “I’ll be Home For Christmas.” Everyone just paused or so it seemed. That was when I missed home the most, but that first Christmas in Ghana was wonderful. It was fun. On Christmas morning I found twenty pesewas in my little stocking. Doesn’t sound like much I know, but in Accra it was a taxi ride just about everywhere.

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