Today feels warm. It is 37˚. The sun has disappeared and been replaced by whitish grey clouds. A slight wind blows the smaller branches. The dogs have been in and out all morning. I went on the porch while they were out and checked the yard. I saw a couple of cans stolen from the trash, two dog toys and an unknown red object. Nala brought the toys inside. Sometimes she does. Sometimes she doesn’t.

The languor of the last few months disappeared yesterday and has given way to a kind of frenzy. It all started with a snow globe covered in dust. I swiped it with my sweatshirt, my usual cleaning cloth. The snow globe looked so good I ended up cleaning all of the snow globes then I moved on with a duster and wet wipes to the rest of the wooden boxes. All of the items in each of the boxes are now clear of dust. This morning, when I went to get the cream from the fridge, I noticed some of the fridge shelves needed cleaning. I cleaned right then as if I had been possessed by a monster with a fearful face dressed in an apron, a house dress and slippers and carrying a whip and a broom. The coffee got cold. The top of my desk was next. I organized it, but the wind up toys on the desk shelf still need cleaning. They are next. I have decided my only way out of this is either to roam the house blindly or go out to do a couple of errands. I’m thinking the latter.

In my travels I have eaten strange things. In Ghana, I always bought bushmeat on the train. The meat came on a skewer, and there was so much hot pepper on the meat you had to wrap it in bread to eat it. I never thought about the source of the meat. I don’t think I wanted to know. Much later I found out it was any wild meat. I’m glad I didn’t know.

I ate Guinea pig or Cuy as it is called in South America, a local delicacy in Ecuador. I remember the restaurant was a small, local spot with Guinea pigs running around. The Guinea pig was roasted and came whole with a bunch of side dishes. I remember the potatoes were delicious.

I had reindeer in Finnish Lapland. Sometimes I’m asked how it tasted. I always say it was delicious except I found the blinking red light a distraction.

Chicken feet taste better than you’d expect but eating them takes work with all the bones. I ate wild bird in Iceland. The ptarmigan is the only one I remember on the plate. I tried frog legs and found them far better tasting than I expected. I’d order them again.

In this country I’ve eaten Rocky Mountain oysters, but I didn’t know what I was eating. I think I would have gagged to find out they are bull testicles. I’ve had eel which is pretty good. I ate gross jello salad when I was young. I don’t even like Jello. I used to eat Spam, the unknown meat, but only when it was fried.

I am still ever ready to taste the oddities. I just don’t want to know what I’m eating.

The spring equinox falls on March 20th, a mere 20 days from today. When I look out my den window, I see a deceptively lovely day, maybe even a spring-like day. The sun is blindingly bright. The sky is a deep blue. In Crayola speak it is cornflower blue. The air is calm. But, it is cold, really cold. The high today will be 27˚. Winter still holds sway.

When I was in the eighth grade, my class from my elementary school, the graduating class, had a class trip to Paragon Park in Hull. Before the big day, my mother took me shopping for a new outfit. I chose clamdiggers which more sophisticated people called capri pants. My blouse was white and sleeveless. I wore a white hat with a visor and new white sneakers. My mother went as one of the chaperons. I remember ride after ride on the wooden roller-coaster called the Giant Coaster, my favorite of all the rides. It rattled on the tracks and tossed us against the sides of the car on the sharp turns. We held on for dear life. A simple seat belt was the only restraint keeping us inside the cars. We did a few of the other rides. My second favorite ride was the Wild Mouse, a small roller coaster with two people cars. It twisted and turned and went up and down. We were flung from side to side at the sharp turns. We loved another ride, but I forget its name. It was a big circle, a cylinder. We leaned against the wall when the circle began to spin. It went faster and faster and pinned us against the wall. We couldn’t move. The floor disappeared. We kept spinning. It was exciting, and it was scary.

We never played any of the games. We just wanted rides and food. I bought a hot dog and some fries and later an ice cream cone and popcorn.

At the end of the afternoon, my classmates offered us, my friend Jimmy and me, their tickets. We took them and went on the roller-coaster a few more times. What we didn’t realize was we got the tickets because it was time to leave, and my classmates were headed to the buses. We were hunted down by the chaperons, including my own mother, because we were the last of us in the park, and the buses were waiting on us so they could leave. We got on board and off we went. We only had to endure a reprimand or two.

Before the park closed in 1984, a couple of friends and I decided to visit the park one last time to ride the coaster. It had been sold and was going to be moved. One of my friends was afraid of the ride. She smashed again me at the turns and screamed the entire time. I think I rode the coaster four or five times. I wanted to remember every twist and turn.

Today will be almost tropical with a high of 38˚. The sky is a brilliant blue. The sun is winter bright. When I went to get the paper, the glint of the sun on the snow was so bright I couldn’t see for a bit. Everything is frozen again. My windshield has a layer of what is now hard-packed snow. The rest of the windows are clear. Later, I’ll tackle the windshield.

When I was a kid, Sunday was my least favorite day. I had to go to mass. Usually I walked. Because I had to wear a skirt or a dress, it was a cold walk even if I was layered and wearing knee socks. The warmth of the church after the cold was welcomed. Before mass, the church was mostly a quiet place. People whispered. The pews creaked when people moved. I could hear the hiss of the radiators. When the mass started, the priest’s voice was loud. People muttered their responses. I could barely wait for the priest to say, “The mass is over. Go in peace.” I sprinted for the door.

I always enjoyed Sunday dinner. We ate it together. I knew they’d be mashed potatoes, a couple of veggies, gravy and a roast of some sort. It was our fanciest dinner of the week.

The dog barking on TV put Henry on alert. He is now barking a warning. I don’t think the dog heard him. Henry had another milestone yesterday. He always licks my hands, but yesterday he gave my cheek a lick, a first. Also, Henry now comes in the dog door all the time. I have Nala to thank for that.

Speaking of the dog door, the other day the dogs perfectly executed a comedy movie bit. They both tried to go out the door at the same time and they were stuck for a few seconds until Henry broke free.

Nala has an accurate internal alarm. Today she woke me up at eight. Yesterday and the day before, it was 8:04 exactly on both days. She is not gentle about waking me. She whacks me a few times. This morning she even whacked the barrier. That’s when I figured she really needed out. I let both dogs out and went back to bed, but I was done sleeping.

Today I will do my laundry. I’m tired of the laundry basket in the hall. It has been weeks.

Yesterday, when I woke up, it was snowing. About an inch or two was on the ground. With so little snow, I could still see the underbrush in the backyard. I got my paper and settled with it and my coffee. Shortly after, I could hear sleet banging against the windows and doors. The sleet fell sideways. After a while, nothing fell, but it was bitterly cold. I stayed inside until I noticed Nala had a bag of pasta in her mouth. I went to get it, but she ran outside. I ran after her and got the pasta. She followed me back into the toasty, warm house. She went to sleep, and I got more coffee. The rain came next then the snow started again. The weather had gone full circle.

The walkway is hidden. My car is encased by icy snow. I have decided to hibernate until spring or until all that snow melts on its own. I don’t have a shovel. I do have a scraper, but I’m not in a scraping mood. It is too cold.

The day is deceptively pretty with a blue sky, white fluffy clouds and lots of sun but it is only 28˚. The high will be 31˚, but in whose world is that a high?

I am watching a black and white science fiction movie from 1953, The Magnetic Monster. I am ten again, and I’m sitting on the living room rug watching Creature Double Feature. Being young, I still have a natural suspension of disbelief.

I saw paw prints going into and out of the front yard. I didn’t recognize the pattern, and I couldn’t find the specific prints on line. Whatever made those prints was free range as I didn’t see boot or shoe prints along side the paw prints. The creature was alone.

When I was a kid, I preferred mittens. They kept my fingers warmer than gloves, and when I was really young, they were easy to put on. Gloves, on the other hand (sorry!), meant trying to get the right fingers in the right spots, and I wasn’t aways successful. I did buttons but had trouble with zippers. I couldn’t always get the two sides of my coat together. Boots were easy. The shoes were the key. I discovered that putting my shoes into my boots without my feet in them made it easy to put my boots back on at school. To my mother’s consternation, I didn’t always wear my hat.

I have nothing planned for the weekend. I can loll. I can have a sloth day.

“The weather outside is frightful.” We had maybe two inches of snow before the sleet started. I got pelted when I went to get the paper. The dogs, though, don’t seem to mind. They have been in and out a few times already. Nala ran the yard and came in with her tongue hanging. Both dogs are having their morning naps. Henry has his side of the couch while Nala is beside me curled in a ball and resting her head on my back. She is snoring. She does that.

My house is cozy and warm. I’m in my usual winter garb, my cozies: slippers, a sweatshirt and flannel pants. I did wear my boots outside, but I could have worn my slippers as the snow isn’t so high.

Today is a day to stay inside, to stay off the roads yet to be plowed. It is cold, 34˚, but the wind, a slight wind, makes it feel colder. Even when I was a kid, I would have stayed inside today. Sleet is uninviting.

I read all the classics when I was young. The saddest was Black Beauty. I only read it once. I got Little Women as a Christmas gift when I was in the fourth grade. I read Heidi and can still see the book cover in my mind’s eye. A little girl is wearing what I thought was an apron but I found out later it was a dirndl. She is standing in a green field framed by snow capped mountains, the Alps. I read all the Doctor Dolittle books. I hated Long John Silver for his duplicity. My favorite was The Wind in the Willows.

As I got older, I started reading mysteries and science fiction. The girl detectives were my favorites. The science fiction books back then had no aliens. They were mostly space ships and journeys to the stars. My imagination ran wild. I dreamed of being in space and seeing millions of bright stars.

I have no lists today, no events and no chores. My larder is filled. I have almost everything I need to survive winter’s onslaught, but a few chocolate chip cookies wouldn’t hurt.

When I woke up this morning, it was sunny but cold. Now, the sun has disappeared and it is only 29°. We are under a winter storm watch. The snow prediction for Cape Cod is 3 to 6 inches, but the snow is expected to change to rain and sleet.

I have no plans for today. Yesterday I was all over the place, five different stops. I even went to the dump with an almost empty trunk, so unlike me, but not to fear, the laundry is still in the hall so all is well with my world.

I didn’t have my first plane ride until I was in college. It was a flight from Hyannis to Boston in a prop, an Easter gift from the Easter Bunny. That single ride started it all.

I have ridden in a hot air balloon, an untethered balloon. It was a magnificent ride. We were one among several balloons taking advantage of the last of the good fall days. The ride had been postponed a couple of times because of the wind. It was a glorious morning. People still in their pajamas and robes rushed out to see us. My favorite view was of the pig farm and the scurrying pigs. We landed perfectly, basket upright. We had breakfast and toasted our perfect ride with glasses of champagne. In each glass was a pin, a replica of the balloon.

My helicopter ride was from LaGuardia to J.F.K. The copter took off straight up then whirred across the city. There was even a stewardess whose only responsibility was to make sure we were buckled. It was an amazing ride with the city close below us, but what was even more amazing was my luggage made it from Boston to LaGuardia to JFK to Ghana despite being out of my sight for an entire day.

My glider ride was out of Plymouth. The day was perfect with the brightest sun and the bluest sky. We were towed into the air by a powered plane connected to us by a rope. When we were high enough, the pilot of my glider had me release the tow rope. We soared over the ocean catching thermals. The view seemed endless. I could even see the skyline of Boston. The only sound was of the wind.

When I woke up this morning, the sun was shining and the sky was blue. I asked Google about the weather and was told it would be cloudy and rainy. Within the next ten minutes the sun disappeared, and darkening clouds covered the sky. Google was right for the meanwhile. Twenty minutes later the blue was back, and the sun was shining, but some clouds are still hanging around just to remind us of the weather prediction.

It is a warm day and already 50˚. We are on a weather seesaw. Tomorrow will be similar to today, but Thursday the temperature will drop to 33˚, and on Friday we’ll have rain and snow.

Nala watches YouTube but only boxer videos. At first I wasn’t sure, but this morning it was obvious. She was right beside me and watched boxers running and gamboling. When the scene switched, she stopped watching until the boxers came back. She doesn’t seem to enjoy Space Force so she’s napping.

Both dogs are on the couch with me. They are sleeping, one on each side of me. When I was a kid, Duke wasn’t allowed on beds or on the furniture. He was a rug dog when we were looking, but he sneaked on the couch late at night while we were all abed. Duke was a tricky dog. As for my animals, they always sleep on couches or beds. They scoff at rugs. They feel entitled.

When I was a kid, my parents told us Chinese was not for kids. We believed them. The only exotic food we ate was spaghetti, I-talian food, with the I long and emphasized. It wasn’t until we were bit older, but still kids, that we tasted Chinese. Nothing happened. I don’t know what I expected, but I didn’t expect to realize my parents told us lies so they didn’t have to share.

We ate steamers. We ate sardines. Both just seemed to be ordinary foods for us. I still like steamers, but the idea of eating sardines gives my taste buds pause, even makes me gag a bit.

The morning is lovely. It is winter warm with a bright sun and a clear blue sky. A slight breeze moves only the thinest branches of the pine trees. Earlier, the dogs were out in the yard chasing each other. Tongues were hanging out when they came back inside the house. Henry is having his morning nap. He is exhausted from running in the backyard and barking from the front door at anything moving on our street. He doesn’t discriminate.

When I was a kid, we celebrated Washington’s birthday, his actual birthday. Later, Lincoln’s birthday got in on the action. Now it is Presidents’ Day honoring all of them. My flag is waving.

This week was February vacation when I was a kid. We never went anywhere. Family vacations were summer affairs so I had to find ways to fill the week and amuse myself. If it was cold enough, I’d go ice skating. If it was warm enough, I’d ride my bike. If I was bored, I’d watch television or read in the quiet of my bedroom. This week always seemed to move quickly. School weeks never did.

Most things are out of Nala’s reach now so she is getting desperate and extending her territory. Last night, TP was all over the hall. Nala had trashed picked from the bathroom basket. This morning she chewed a pencil into tiny pieces on the door mat. She stole that from the table here in the den. Now I have to hide my pens and pencils.

My school in Ghana had a night watchman. He used to sleep with his dog beside him under a tree. He had a lit lantern and sometimes lit a small fire to keep himself warm during the harmattan. He closed the front gate when it got dark. I sometimes was in town with friends so the gate was closed when I got back to school. From outside the gate I could see the watchman sleeping, and I could hear his dog barking at me. I yelled, “Watchman, Watchman,” over and over. He never moved. Most times I ended up climbing the gate into the school. My students told me I was being ignored on purpose because he didn’t want get up. I never solved that problem. I did wonder if he let thieves in as easily especially after my house was robbed.

My dance card has a few entries this week. I have a doctor’s appointment on Wednesday. On Tuesday night is uke practice, and Wednesday morning is my lesson. We’re practicing Irish as we have a concert and a parade celebrating St. Patrick’s Day in March. The rest of my week is wide open. I’m thinking I’ll do a few odd house chores like cleaning my bedroom closet floor and polishing the silver. Notice I haven’t mentioned the laundry.

Last night was so cold I gasped for breath when I went outside. The relentless wind made it feel even colder. My car couldn’t warm up fast enough. My fingers were so cold I held them against the heater vent.

On the ride to my friend’s for dinner, I saw even more houses lit up against the darkness. In one front yard a huge fir tree was ablaze with colored Christmas bulbs. It was the brightest spot on the road. I decided I’d light my colored bulbs tonight.

Every morning my newspaper is either on the walkway or on the front step. I didn’t know who to thank for tossing my paper into the yard until this morning. I was up early and went to get my paper. I jumped when I looked up and saw an unexpected person by my car with my paper in hand. She was dressed in the brightest lime jacket with black lines. I went to chat and to thank her. In the course of our conversation she told me her age, 91. She wears a Fitbit and counts her steps. She figures she walks about two miles every day. The woman is extraordinary.

My house got TP’ed yesterday afternoon, inside. I was at my computer and was totally oblivious as to what was happening. When I got up, I saw my hall floor was covered in shredded toilet paper. My living room too had shredded toilet paper but mostly on the rug. I went upstairs to check, and my bedroom had TP on the bed and floor. As for the culprit, I knew right away Miss Nala had been enjoying herself. She had stolen a roll of paper from the bathroom counter, far back on the counter, or at least I thought so. Miss Nala made hay, so to speak, while I was otherwise occupied.

Our dog Duke was a roamer in the days before leash laws. He was the dog who followed kids to the East School and then followed us to St. Pat’s. My father would call for him, and Duke would ignore him. My father, in his fury at being ignored, would jump into his car and chase Duke. Sometimes he caught him.

Duke and his son Sam wandered all over town. Sam was a silly boxer who smiled. The two of them were marauders known around the neighborhood. One time my father had to get the two of them after a neighbor called and claimed she was being held hostage by the two dogs outside her house. They would not leave when she yelled. In her house was a dog in heat, and both Sam and Duke were hopeful for a future relationship. My father got Sam easily, but Duke was evasive. My father got apoplectic. Once Sam was captured, Duke decided to listen and got into the car. Sam was delivered to his home first. My father dropped Duke off then left immediately for work. He was running late. Duke was a wily opponent who usually won every stand-off. I have boxers with all their peculiarities because of Duke. He was the best dog.

Today is bright and beautiful. It is also cold, only 34˚. The wind is blowing but only slightly in comparison to the winds of the last few days. The dogs are out and back inside quickly. Their ears are always cold.

My dance card has one item, dinner with friends tonight and maybe a game or two. My chore list has a few more items which I have been ignoring. My laundry is still in the hall. My kitchen floor is filled with paw prints from the door, down the hall to the den. My bed is unmade. I did water my plants yesterday, my biggest achievement of the day. It was exhausting.

My den is cluttered, and that’s being kind. My collections are here: my hats, my snow globes, baskets from Ghana, my vinyl, some wind-up toys, many cookbooks in wooden boxes and some bobble heads. The couch is where the three of us spend our time. I get the middle. Each dog has a side.

When I was a kid, Saturday was sacrosanct. The morning was for eating cereal in front of the TV. The rest of the day depended on the season and the weather. A winter Saturday was often a movie matinee at the theater uptown. I loved that theater. It was special, unique. It was built in 1917 and was called The Stoneham. The ticket window was on the left wall. There was an incline to the rest of the theater. The stairs to the balcony, usually closed off with a red rope unless there were too many kids, were also on the left wall. The concession stand was at the top of the incline in the middle of the wall between the doors to the seats. In the very back seats were always kissing couples. They were the only teenagers at the matinee. The front of the theater had a stage. When my mother was young, there were giveaways like dishes. One Saturday I saw The Wizard of Oz for the first time. I clapped when it turned to color. Al and his wife owned and ran the theater. She was at the concession stand, and he went up and down the aisles shining his flashlight at us and trying to maintain order. He always wore a jacket and a tie.

I still go to that theater, but now it is a live theater where the Greater Boston Stage Company performs six shows a year. My sister and I usually go to the Christmas play every year. The balcony is always open. Nobody throws candy anymore.