The house feels different. When I go to the cats’ room and don’t see Gwen sitting on her rug waiting for me, I feel even greater sadness at losing her. Poor Jack stands on the stairs and meows for his sister. The dogs don’t notice so much. Gwen tended to stay in the cats’ room. She loved to drive Nala to distraction. Her rug was just out of Nala’s reach. It drove the dog crazy. Poor Nala cried and whined.

I brought Gwen’s comfy rugs downstairs to wash them. I put them in front of the cellar door so I’d remember to take them downstairs to the washer. One rug was missing this morning. I went into the yard and found it. It crossed my mind that Nala was being a bit vindictive. She must have recognized the rug.

This will be short. Words today are elusive. My biggest accomplishment so far is I put on clean cozies. I do have a car full of trash so maybe I ought to make the effort to go to the dump. Perhaps I should add a stop for a bit of chocolate.

Today is cold. It is 25˚. The low will be 19˚. We are most decidedly in the throes of winter. We had snow flurries starting last night around midnight and continuing intermittently into this morning. Right now a bit of blue is starting to come from behind the clouds and bringing the sun along, but it comes and goes. A wind has started blowing. It is not a day to be out and about, but I have no choice. I need some groceries.

Jack was especially vocal last night. He meowed from the top of the stairs for a while then went half-way down and meowed some more. I gave him lovings, and I brushed him. Jack enjoys being brushed. I feel bad for Jack as he is relegated to upstairs. Nala needs to learn that Jack is family and ought not to be chased. I think I’ll take a nap with him today.

My first load of laundry is in the washing machine. The basket was still in the hall where it had been for a week, okay maybe two weeks. It was overflowing as I kept adding laundry to the basket. I had hopes that the elves who took care of the shoemaker and his shoes would take pity, and I’d find clean, folded clothes in the morning. It didn’t happen.

This will be a short musing today. We are all trying to handle losing Gwen in our own ways. I find myself short tempered. It was strange this morning not greeting Gwen. The first thing in the morning is when I went into the cats’ room to feed them and to give Gwen her morning shot. This morning it was all Jack.

Before I posted my music for today, I went up for my afternoon visit to the cats. Gwen was lying on the floor and having trouble breathing. I put her right into the crate and called the vets. We immediately went over. Gwen passed away before we got to the vets. I heard her. I knew. When I got to the vets, I opened the crate to give her some lovings and to say goodbye. I brought her inside. They came to tell me what I already knew. The vets thought it was her heart by the symptoms. I’m having her paw print saved. I thought I’d put it on my aunt’s grave. She loved her babies.

The rain is heavy and loud. I heard it as soon as I woke up. The dogs balked about going out into the rain. Nala poked her head out the dog door then she backed into the house. Henry ran out, his need greater than his dislike of the rain. When I went to get the paper, I was pummeled by the rain. I put up my hood. It did little good.

Despite the rain, I need to go out to pick up a few essentials like cat food, cream for my coffee and something to sweeten my day. I’m thinking anything chocolate. I was going to the dump, but today is not a dump day. It is not even a going out day, but I haven’t any choice.

When I was a kid, a rainy day was the worst. I hated walking to school and getting wet. My shoes and socks got the wettest. They were usually soaked. I left footprints when I walked in my socks.

In Ghana, during the dry season, we used to joke about the weather, the same weather we got every day, hot and dry. Many mornings, we’d look at the sky and say it looks like rain. We did it in all seriousness even though we were kidding. We knew, of course, that rain was months away.

The first rain storms after the dry season were spectacular. Small bushes were bent to the ground by the fierceness of the wind, a sign of the rain to come. The sky darkened for the first time in months. It really did look like rain. The drops came in waves. Lightning struck right in front of my house. The road through the school ended at the back gate, by my house. It was a dirt road. It only took one storm for the heavy rain to cause crevices through the dirt. The rain ran like a river through those crevices and turned the dirt to mud. The mud slid.

I loved having a whole season of rain. Unless it was torrential, it never stopped me. I walked to the classroom block. I walked through the market in the rain. In Bolga, being wet was short lived. After the rain, the sun came back, and it was hot. I dried in no time.

The morning is foggy, damp and cloudy. The only thing to commend it is the warmth of 42˚. I have already been out and back to an early morning dental appointment just to have my teeth cleaned, but they found something. I have a fractured tooth. I’m going back in a couple of weeks to have it filled. It seems parts of me are falling apart, a piece at a time. It happens to old cars and now it’s happening to me.

When I was kid, we never went to the dentist unless there was a problem, but I did start with an orthodontist when I was seven. His office was on Comm Ave. in Boston. On appointment day, my mother had to find a babysitter for my sisters. We walked uptown to take the bus to Sullivan Square, and, from there, we took the T. We walked from the T station to the office. I have pictures in my head of the office, the room and the furniture. His waiting room was enormous and filled with oversized furniture like giant puffy chairs and sofas covered in flowers. One giant old wooden desk sat near the door. In my memory drawer the desk is as large as the Resolute desk in the Oval Office. The nurse was there to check me in for my appointment. My mother and I sat for a bit then I went into the office. Dr. Nice was oldish. He wore a white jacket with buttons on the top which opened a flap. On the old Dr. Casey TV show, the brooding Dr. Casey wore the same white top only he kept the buttons unbuttoned. Dr. Nice had white hair which stuck out in places. His office was at the front of the house. It had a bank of windows which kept my attention. I watched the cars. I don’t remember the appointments too well, just the windows and the chair in the center of the room and the going and coming. We took the T back then waited at Sullivan Square for the bus home. My mother usually bought me a treat from the station kiosk. We’d get to Stoneham Square where my mother would buy me lunch. The two of us then walked to school. She was my late note.

My house feels chilly even though the heat is cranking. I have forced hot air. When I was a kid, we had radiators and forced hot water. I loved the hissing of the steam and the gurgling of the radiator. One was in my room under a window near the foot of the bed. It was the sound I heard when I was falling asleep.

Today is drab. The sky is covered with grey white clouds. It is warm but only by comparison. The road is slushy in-between the ruts. The icicles on the roof are melting. Snow is falling off the branches of the trees in the backyard. It is an ugly winter’s day.

My plans for today are simple. I’m finally going to tackle that laundry. The basket in the hall is overflowing. I have just about run out of my cozies, an impending catastrophe needing to be averted, so laundry it is.

When I was a kid, my favorite pajamas were blue. They were made of jersey material and had cuffs. They always kept me warm. Every day, when I got home from school, I had to change into play clothes. In the winter, when we couldn’t go out to play, I’m get home and put on my cozies, my pajamas. That’s where my love of cozies began.

The Xfinity guy is coming with my new cable box, and my Agway order is ready for pick-up. Yesterday I had groceries delivered. My uke practice was on Zoom. Other than a hand-off from a delivery person, I don’t see people any more. I might as well be a hermit living alone in a cave in the desert and wearing an animal hair shirt for atonement.

My bedroom is a mess with storage boxes looking for a home, but my living room is back to normal for the most part. The only difference is my rug has been chewed in two places. As for the perpetrator, I figure you already know. It’s too easy a guess. I love that rug which I bought many years ago at the Topsfield Fair. It will be difficult to replace. I’m already in mourning.

Life is slow. I have a dentist appointment this week and my usual uke lesson, and that’s it. I’m expecting no visitors. The cable guy has come and gone. He replaced the old box. We chatted a bit. He is originally from England. His father has had Covid twice but is okay. He and I agreed that we do miss spending time with people, face to face, but I am content.

My street is quiet. Nobody goes by the house either in a car or walking. My dogs are the only live noises I hear. Henry barks. Nala whines. They go and in out the dog door at will, even Henry. Both dogs love the snow. Maybe we should be more like the dogs and romp and gambol in the snow. Maybe we should build a fort or have a snowball fight. Follow the dogs. The dogs know joy.

The sky is the deepest blue I think I have ever seen. It is stunning. The air is wonderfully clear. Everything is quiet, nothing is stirring. Even the smallest branches are stillheavy with snow. Icicles hang off my roof line. They break when I open the front door. It is cold, at 26˚, but warmer than it has been. The dogs are loving this weather. They chase each other around the yard. I don’t love it as much.

Skip is coming to clean up the front, uncover my mailbox and shovel the back stairs. He’ll put the cow away until next Christmas. I can handle the donkey. I’ll also have him take some of the trash from the car as his dump is open. I wish he did laundry.

I am going out today for a curbside pick-up of dog food and a few cans of cat food. I’ll order from Agway. Curbside is my second favorite right behind delivery. I don’t even have to get dressed.

When I was a kid, my mother grocery shopped on Fridays. She didn’t drive back then so my father had to take her. We loved it after she shopped. The larder was filled. There were cookies galore. We even had choices of cookies, at least for a couple of days. Oreos were a staple. Sometimes she’d buy chocolate chip cookies. I also remember Pecan Sandies. They were my mother’s favorite so she used to hide them from us. I remember Nilla Wafers. I always thought they were called Vanilla Wafers. It was a shock to find out otherwise. My mother also bought the week’s school lunch desserts which we were not allowed to touch upon pain of death.

School is out on the cape today. Many roads and sidewalks have not been plowed or have only been lightly plowed. Skip was out doing his big plow jobs yesterday. He said the snow was horrific. He got stuck a few times, and the snow was so heavy it was slow going moving it. Today he is doing the houses. I am third on his list.

My cable box is still not working. Xfinity called yesterday to see if it was still not working. I said yes and that it was stuck on the welcome page. The disembodied voice asked the same questions I’d already be asked and had already answered twice before. The man decided to restart it. What a surprise. He said it is working as we are on the welcome screen. I told him again that the box stays on that screen. I told three times. He tried to start it one more time: nothing but the welcome screen. He said he’d try again and call me today, but if I wanted, I could return the broken box and get another. Nope, I’m staying with that appointment. I also think I might just define insanity for him, about expecting different results.

The snow is beautiful. The topmost flakes are diamonds glinting in the sun. The sunlight reflecting off the snow is blindingly bright. The sky is a gorgeous blue. We got less snow than predicted, but the snow is so heavy everything is covered, and the lowers branches of the oak trees sag under the weight. Bushes are laden and are bending to the ground. I saw one plow much earlier on the street beside mine but not on mine which still has a layer of snow. Two of my neighbors are out and about, their driveways shoveled. I will wait for Skip, my factotum. I did cancel an early dentist appointment tomorrow in case I am low on Skip’s list.

One of my neighbors is here shoveling my walk and car so if I need to go out, I can. I am thrilled for this kindness.

We all survived the storm, that is all except my cable. The box has stopped working, but I was fine last night. I watch a Hallmark movie on my computer. In the middle of a raging blizzard, nothing is more comforting than a Hallmark movie. They always have happy endings.

I read in bed for a while last night. Nala joined me. Henry stayed downstairs until early this morning when he wanted into the bedroom. I let him in and he joined Nala and me on the bed, on my double bed.

Nala loves the snow. She eats it. I watched her burrow her muzzle into the snow and start chomping. She comes back inside with her muzzle, nose and the top of her head covered in snow.

Henry was upset last night and this morning. The holly tree, overladen with heavy snow, covered the deck stairs. Nala got through the branches and Henry went through one way, down. He wouldn’t up through the branches. He tried both sets of stairs, no luck. Henry is weird in this way. He’ll go out the dog door but hates to come in through the dog door though he is getting better. He went down through the holly but wouldn’t go up. I grabbed a broom and used the stick to take as much snow as I could off the holly branches. They lifted enough for a clear passage underneath. I swear I saw Henry smile as he walked up the stairs to the door.

The wind is tremendous. The snow is heavy and wet. The bushes near the house are bent to the ground. The branches from the oak tree by the deck have bent so much under the weight of the snow the smallest branches at the ends tap the backdoor and sound like fingers scratching the glass. Every niow and then the dogs and I raise our heads and look. The dogs were out chasing each other in the snow. Nala comes inside with her nose and head covered in snow. Both are wet and exhausted and are lying asleep on the couch, one beside me, the other behind me. Running in snow takes energy. 

The snow started last night around 11. I don’t know exactly how much snow we have, but I’m guessing around 4 or 5 inches with much more yet to come as many as 18 inches here on the cape. Everything is ladened with snow. The wind gusts have been as high as 60 MPH. The snow is drifting. 

The internet is down for the third time, but the electricity stays on so the house is warm and cozy. I might have had a Globe but the snow, falling so quickly, a couple of inches an hour, probably covered it. Still, I do love my paper so I decided to go check. It was ugly out. The wind was howling. My face got whipped by the snowflakes blown sideways by the wind so I gave up and ran back inside the house. I figured I’d read the paper online. Nope, I’m not on-line quite yet, but I am hopeful. 

I miss Shelby Scott. She was the reporter from Channel 4 sent out in the worst weather to do live updates. She was famous for her snow reports while being blown and buffeted by the wind and weather. Storms like this need Shelby. 

The cow and the donkey are safely in the house. Both beasts are in the living room. I triaged the cow’s hanging leg. Last night I lit my Christmas lights. The snow seemed to demand it. The colored lights looked beautiful. I will light again in a while. 

The electricity flickers and sometimes goes off for a minute or two. The internet doesn’t easily recover. It had gone down went down for the fifth time. When the electricity comes back on, there are beeps from Hey Google. Tree branches, heavy with snow, scratch against the windows. It scares Henry. He starts to shake. I hold him for a while and Nala sits beside him. A biscuit make him feel better but then it happens again, the same sequence of events: electricity off, electricity on, cable and internet gone, Hey Google back on with beeps, branches scratching the window, the back window this time, Henry shaking and getting as close to me as he can, even to my lap. I tried a treat again, and it helped for a little while, but he is staying close. He is still nervous. 

The electricity has been blinking on and of. The internet is far away. I will post this when I am no longer chiseling on stone. 

The Internet is back, but the cable is not. I turned off the light. Henry is better.

Today is cloudy and damp. It rained a bit during the night so paw prints on the kitchen floor are back. It is warmish at 42˚. I went out on the deck while my coffee was perking. Pieces of different sized white paper, torn white paper, are strewn about the yard, the part of the yard I’ve already cleaned. The backyard is beginning to look like a vacant lot. I don’t know what the pieces used to be. I’ll find out when I clean the yard. (I just found out when Nala, of course, tried to steal more. She brought out and ate all the cat treats. I had not closed the gate well enough, my fault).

This morning has been almost perfect. I slept late. Everything is quiet, not a person or a car anywhere on the street. The coffee was delicious, both cups of it. Nala is now asleep, resting from her morning antics.

I took my time with the paper. It was filled with all sorts of news I just had to read. I noticed the overthrow of the president of Burkina Faso by the army. I used to go to Ougadougou, the capital, for the weekend. Back then the country was called Upper Volta. I loved Ougadougou. First, it had a great name. It also had a great market, below the street in the center of the city. I bought some unique metal pieces in that market. We always stayed at a nice hotel. With three of us splitting the cost of one room, we could. Breakfast was Yukka soda and small baguettes. We always ate dinner in a nice restaurant. A couple of times, it was the one in the center run by nuns. Ouga always felt small in a comfortable way.

I have no plans for today. Groceries are being delivered shortly. I can’t remember the last time I was in a supermarket. (Ring doesn’t count as a supermarket because it is many stores.) Mostly I ordered essentials, like cheese, and some odd things like chopped dates and chocolate croissants. I’m good for a while on supermarket stuff.

I think the most amazing experiences in Ghana are on market day, every third day in Bolga. When I lived there, I loved market day. It was a carnival without the rides. All the stalls were filled with sellers. The paths through the different offerings sometimes had so many people you had to walk sideways through the crowds. I bought my fruit and vegetables first. There were lots of fruits but few vegetables. I went to my favorite onion and tomato lady. She always dashed me some of each. Next came the eggs. I went to the same egg man all the time. He never gave me a bad egg. The beef came from the meat market which was disgusting, but only in the beginning. After a while I didn’t even notice. The meat came wrapped in leaves. The chickens were tied by one leg to a thick rope or string on the ground. There were rows of chickens. I’d look for the fattest and buy it. The chicken man tied the chicken’s legs together and handed the chicken to me to carry by those legs. It felt odd at first to be carrying a chicken. After a while, it felt day-to-day.

Any lifetime when carrying a live chicken by its legs is just part of the day is a life filled with the unexpected becoming the usual. It is living in Africa, in Ghana. My day-to-day didn’t even seem different after a while and neither did the chicken. I just slung it over the handlebar of my moto and drove home where it was destined to be dinner.