The clouds are back. They left late yesterday afternoon, and we had sun for the rest of the day. Yup, I said sun. Today, though, no sun. We are back to clouds and rain later in the day. It’s cold, 39˚, and will stay cold all day. The dump is my big chore then to Agway for animal food, two of the most boring chores, and the two I do most often. I admit I didn’t water my plants yesterday except for the ones near the sink, but I was busy. I swept and wet mopped the kitchen floor, my most strenuous activity in a while. I also put many of my Christmas gifts away. The fun part was looking at them again.

When I was a kid, I really didn’t like Sunday. It started with a walk to church, going to mass then walking home. The winter walk was brutal, but the church was always warm. It was also always filled. I sat either in the back or at the end of a row. I was into quick exits.

On most winter school mornings, my mother made us a hot breakfast. My favorite was soft boiled eggs. My mother served them in Fannie Farmer egg cups. When I moved into my house, my mother gave them to me. Some of the poor chickens have lost their beaks. The eggs were accompanied by toast strips for dipping. That breakfast was always messy.

When I order breakfast out, I never order pancakes or waffles. I find the consistency of pancakes difficult to swallow even when they’re bathed in maple syrup, the real stuff. Mostly I just order fried eggs and bacon with toast and maybe hash browns. I’m a hash brown fan.

I am far too lazy in the morning to make breakfast. I brew coffee, and if I am really hungry, I throw toast or English muffins into the toaster oven. Henry always expects me to share. I usually do.

The morning is gray and dark. It rained last night and will continue raining today. The tops of the pine trees are whipping back and forth in the strong wind. When I got the papers, I was surprised to feel how warm it is. If the wind were gone, it would be long sleeve weather closer to spring than winter. My big and only goals for the weekend are to go to the dump and water my plants. I do have low expectations.

My living room is getting de-Christmased. I’ve been putting my gifts away a couple at a time. I still light the tree and probably will until it settles in its summer quarters in the cellar. The snowmen, though, will hang around for the winter, not, I hope, as inspiration for Mother Nature.

When I was a kid, I never really minded going back to school after Christmas. There wasn’t a whole lot to do at home in the cold of early January. At school, I’d get to see my friends and while away the day.

Bill and Peg, my friends with whom I was in the Peace Corps, and I talk often on the phone. They are keeping tabs on my sanity, but I’m okay for the most part except I’m bored. Still, it is good to know my friends have my back and want to make sure I stay okay.

I have never been a shoe person. When I was a kid, I had my school shoes which doubled as Sunday shoes. My play shoes were usually sneakers, but when I was older, I wanted different shoes. Sneakers didn’t do it for me anymore. I had a pair of saddle shoes. They were my favorite pair for a while. For school, I wore a uniform which included black loafers with no dimes. My shoes now are divided into summer or winter. In summer, I wear sandals all the time. In winter, I have clog slippers which I take off only for bed. I wear them everywhere. My last pair had toe holes at the top. My sister gave me a new pair, a perfect Christmas present for me.

The sun is making a break. I just saw it poke through a cloud for only a few minutes, but sadly, sun is not part of today’s rainy weather report, but I don’t really care. Snow is what I dread.

I apologize for the lateness of Coffee. I had company this morning and didn’t want to let them go as they are the first company since March. They had had negative tests so we didn’t need masks but we kept the distance. Henry even let them pat him, but that took a while. Poor Henry doesn’t see enough people to be socialized which is sad because he does like people and the treats they offer. Henry likes my cleaning couple because he sees them twice a month, and he even let Lee hold his paw while I cut his nails.

Today is cloudy and a bit warmer than I expected, but it will get cold tonight, down to 35˚. The clouds will hang around because showers are predicted starting around midnight and continuing into tomorrow, but I’m just fine with that. The high will be 53˚. That sounds almost balmy.

I have to believe this new year can’t be worse than last year. I’m not sure anything can be.

When I was a kid, New Year’s Day meant school the next day, and it meant putting away our new clothes and toys. The living room looked empty, but when the tree, next to come down, was outside, the living room looked deserted. I hated New Year’s Day.

Last night I stayed awake and watched the worst year in history disappear in a countdown. The ball dropped. The new year started, and I went to bed.

Last night it rained. I was in bed and turned over and went to sleep to the staccato sounds of the rain dripping from the roof edges. This morning has intermittent rain. It is cloudy and dark, a perfect sendoff to 2020.

My plans for tonight are simple. I’m going to stay in my cozies and watch the ringing out of the old horrific year and the welcome ringing in of the new year. I hope for a year possibilities, maybe even of hope.

When I was a kid, I always begged my parents to let me stay up on New Year’s Eve. They did a couple of times, and I fell asleep.

I never make New Year’s resolutions any more. I don’t keep them. But this year, I did make one: to stay healthy and safe and maintain my sanity.

My outside lights are still turning on in the early darkness. I light my Christmas tree every night. Every year I wait to remove Christmas until the Epiphany, until Twelfth Night. Today I am keeping a careful eye outside hoping to catch a glimpse of seven swans a-swimming in the puddles.

Earlier this morning, I don’t know when, Henry leaped off the bed, slid on the small rug in the hall and started barking. I yelled for him to stop. I thought he was harassing Jack. Well, it turns out he was alerting me. I found two boxes on my steps when I went to get the papers, boxes delivered when Henry was barking. One was sent priority mail, presents for me and Henry from my sister in a package mailed before Christmas at a post office just north of Boston. The package took a journey. It visited Providence and Stamford, Connecticut, its last stop before me. The other package was Henry’s pills, mailed five days ago, regular mail.

I wish all of us a happy New Year. We deserve it for hanging in and making the best of this. My dear Coffee friends, stay safe and stay healthy.

This morning I woke up at around eight, went to the bathroom then went back to bed. I even managed to fall asleep. Henry waited and fell back to sleep with me. I woke up after ten because it was close to four before I went to bed. It was just one of those nights.

Today is winter warm. The sky is a mix of blue and those ever present clouds, but the sun finds its way through and shines every now and then. Finally, a breeze, not a wind.

I’m staying home today yet again. I have stuff to do tomorrow so I’ll brace myself and head out. One of the stops is the dentist where an old filling will be replaced by a new filling. I am not excited.

One Christmas I got Alive, the book about the Andean soccer team who dined on their dead teammates when their plane crashed in the Andes. I found an empty corner Christmas morning and started reading. I stopped for dinner. I read the entire book. My mother wasn’t happy. She wanted to know why I didn’t save it for later. I thought it an inane question. It was a book, a new book, enough said.

When I was in high school, my school was two towns away. Those were the days of bus runs from town to town. I got my bus at 7:05 about 3 blocks away from my house. I always sat with my friends up front. The back of the bus was where the guys sat. I pitied any real people riding the bus. The back was always loud and rowdy. I never got home before 4 and usually closer to 5.

After Christmas, we’d play with our toys and games. We’d eat turkey, the endless turkey from Christmas dinner. My father cleaned the carcass, and he never missed even the smallest piece of meat. The bird’s last identity was soup. I love turkey soup.

My freezer, fridge and larder are filled. Last week I had everything delivered from my three markets. I have plenty of potatoes, onions, bread and meat. I have pita bread and hummus. I have one stick of celery, two tomatoes and a single green pepper. Come dinner time I will open the fridge, stand there and hope to find something appealing. If unsuccessful at the fridge, the next destinations for the Great Food Hunt are the cabinets and the oven, my back-up storage. Last night I found nothing appealing. I ate cinnamon toast for dinner.

Here I am sitting on the couch in a brown study, my mood of the day. I woke up early, for me anyway, and took my time. I read the papers, finished both the crossword and the cryptogram, had three cups of coffee shared with Henry, rearranged a few things on the counter while my English muffin toasted and am now watching a really bad movie about aliens. I have no ambition. I haven’t a single list. My biggest accomplishment for the day is still to come.

Last night I had soft tacos for dinner, well a soft taco. I had everything I needed except salsa, but the Rotel tomatoes with chili were perfect so I added the can to the cooking meat and the seasonings. I cut up some cherry tomatoes in my handy dandy cherry tomato cutter, had sour cream, pepper Jack cheese and an avocado which had been hard the day before when I put it into the avocado sock for ripening. I see confusion. An avocado sock? Yes, I bought one for myself and one for a friend’s stocking, pun sort of intended. The sock is neat looking. It has a leather string for closing and will ripen the hardest avocado over a day or two. Last night I yummed my way through my impromptu dinner. It was delicious and will be again.

Today is a bit blah though that may be reflective of my mood. It is warmer than I expected, in the mid 40’s. The clouds with varying degrees of grey are with us again. The wind is getting stronger.

When I was a kid, the week after Christmas was sometimes the best fun. I remember the year I got my bike and how excited I was especially as I could ride it Christmas Day, no snow.

We used to go our grandparents every Christmas Day after dinner, and I hated it. We’d get gifts there and see all our cousins, numbering I think in the thousands, but I hated leaving my new toys.

Henry’s presents are strewn about the house. He has before and after Santas. The before is traditional. The after is wearing a Hawaii bathing suit with a matching Santa hat and, to complete his ensemble, Santa is wearing sunglasses. The before crinkles and the after makes noise when you press his belly, his considerable belly. Henry plays with both of them. It took a while before Henry figured out toys, but now he knows, and right now I can hear the crinkles of poor Santa being mauled.

Today is lovely but cold. The air has a clarity that only winter cold seems to bring. The trees in the backyard stand stark against the deep blue sky. The thin pine branches look like skeletal fingers and hands grasping at nothing in the air. Nothing is moving. The air is finally still.

The birds have found the filled feeders. The chickadees were the first to arrive followed by the titmice, the usually order of visitors. I have plenty of seed.

My favorite day for Christmas to be on was always Sunday. That meant I could go to church and count it twice, once for Sunday and once for Christmas.

My almost $100.00 order is in for pick-up at Agway. The only non-animal item is a package of AAA batteries. Henry’s order includes bully sticks, his favorites, while the cats are getting Temptations.

The rush is over. My uke teacher sent a file of St. Patrick’s Day songs hoping we can learn a couple before the big day. I light my Christmas tree still and sit on the couch in the living room. The window lights make shadows on the walls. The room feels cozy and warm. Henry always joins me.

The dog’s outside water bowl has a layer of ice and a few pine needles are frozen on the top of it. The day will stay cold with a high of 38˚.

When I was a kid, on the days after Christmas, all my presents stayed around the tree. I’d sit on the floor and look at them one at time. I’d start reading one of the books. Sometimes we’d play a game. We always got a new game. Our favorite was Sorry. It is still my favorite.

When I was a kid, on the days after Christmas, all the presents stayed around the tree in our own little piles. I’d sit on the floor and look at my presents one at time. Sometimes I’d start reading one of my new books. Sometimes we’d play a game. We always got a new game. Our favorite was Sorry. It is still my favorite. I remember Parcheesi. That game, much like Monopoly, seemed to last forever. If you got stuck behind a blockade, you could do laundry, make dinner or watch TV before your next turn came. We didn’t play that game often.

Other than my pickup at Agway, I have no plans beyond taking a shower. I’ll probably have to nap.

This morning I woke up early, threw off the covers, put my legs over the side of my bed then put them and the rest of me right back under the covers. My bedroom felt cold so both Henry and I got comfortable again, me under the covers, him against me. I didn’t go back to sleep though I tired. I could see the changes in the weather in the space of an hour from my window. It was cloudy then it was sunny and lovely. That’s when I dragged myself out of bed, but the sun was a ruse. The clouds rolled in for their return visit, and that’s we still are. It is cold. That has been the only constant.

Yesterday was a frenzy of phone calls, opening presents and finally a Zoom call. My living floor has piles of opened presents. I have some gift cards to favorite places and special gifts from my family and friends. My sister gave me the most beautiful wooden box from Ghana. I’ve never anything like it. My friends Bill and Peg gave me shea soap from Ghana, a trivet with two elephants, a memory of our Zaina Park trip together, a sloth calendar and Sloth on a Vine which makes me chuckle every time I see it. The sloth are meant to hold photos then you hang the vine. My sister Moe found Spawn of Satan socks for me. She also found so many wonderful old decorations for Easter and Halloween. Tony and Clare gave me some shirts, one of which is destined to become my outside shirt of record. It is a beautiful flannel in colors I don’t have. The other shirt is a bright red and about the softest shirt I’ve ever owned. Everyone gave me so much more. These are just highlights.

Henry wasn’t forgotten. He has peanut butter biscuits from Bill and Peg and a Santa toy from Piper, Tony and Clare’s dog. I won’t ever get into what I gave him.

Today is a do nothing day as I have nothing to do. I’ll look through my presents again. That’s always fun. Right now I’m watching The Phantom Speaks from 1945 in black and white. The plot is in the title.

Oops, the sun is back to taunt me, but I will not be lured. I am staying inside warm and comfy. That is my big plan for the day.

Merry Christmas!

The weather is amazing. The winds are furious. The pine trees are bending nearly in half. Branches are strewn all over. When I first woke up, I thought the rain had started, but it was branches brushing the side of the house. The winds will give way to rain. It is warm, almost pleasant. Already it is 58˚, that’s downright balmy.

Last night was quiet. I panicked when my remote wouldn’t listen to me but rather announced dying batteries. My battery stash had no AA’s. Seriously who has no double AA’s, the batteries which run the world? I didn’t know what to do. I went looking at DoorDash which now delivers from convenience stores and pharmacies. Walgreen’s was open. I ordered at 7:25. My order was weird, mostly fillers. I got my batteries, manila envelopes, dog treats, 2 cans of cat food and litter. It was delivered by 8:15. It is my strangest delivery by far this Christmas season.

When I was a kid, that first view of the tree surrounded by gifts was breathtaking. My eyes always zeroed in on my pile. I can remember a Ginny doll, her bed and an armoire filled with clothes. A Sorry game was on its side leaning against some books. One year I had ice skates. Another year it was my bike. I’d sit on the floor in front of my gifts and look at them one at time. I’d show my mother as if they were new to her. She always acted surprised. I was never disappointed by Christmas. That hasn’t changed.

In my living room are piles of presents. They are all wrapped and just waiting for me so I’ll finish here so I can start the Great Unwrapping.

Have the Best Day!

The morning is lovely, a bit chilly but lovely nonetheless. I have already been out. I went to pick up my Christmas dinner. When I got there, a short couple of minutes down the road, I saw a huge line of masked people all the way down the building waiting for turns into the market. I couldn’t believe it. I was again not dressed for public viewing. Well, they had a plan for dinners and cars, and I was only the third car in line. I gave my name and within 5 minutes I had my dinner. It looks amazing. The NY sirloin is huge and rests on lobster risotto. Atop both of them is a bundle of grilled asparagus. Also, I have shrimp cocktail and a vegetable plate with a dip. My desert is something chocolate. That’s enough for me to know, chocolate. I also have cookies for long term dessert, delicious cookies from a friend, a whole plateful minus the two I ate yesterday.

Last night I invited my friends to A Christmas Carol in my newly created Zoom room. I wanted to play for them Silent Night on my uke; thus a carol, not carols, in the title. I can actually play Silent Night fairly well. I always give myself a B+. I played twice, the second one almost perfectly. I had Moe and Rod from Colorado and Jay and Clair from Chatham in my audience. My other sister and my friends Tony and Clare missed the concert so my sister is asking for a return engagement. I’ll surprise her tonight.

When I was a kid, this was the worst and the best day of the year. It was the worst because it was at least 48 hours long. It never got dark. I was willing to put on my new pajamas around three or four in the afternoon so I could turn in early. I always tried around 5 or 6 to convince my mother it was bedtime for me. She knew better. The Christmas tradition was to open one present each. We had no choice as to which presents. My mother handed us the wrapped packages which were always new pajamas. She never surprised us. I don’t even think Moe ripped a tiny hole in those packages. She knew already. The last thing before bed was we hung our stockings off the small bannister going upstairs. My stocking was at the top, a position I demanded being the oldest. The rest were also hung in age order.

Today was the best of days because the long wait was finally over. Santa was coming. All I had to do was fall asleep, and the time passed without me watching. I’d wake up to a stocking filled with wonderful surprises and the best gifts for me under the tree. Yup, today was the best of days.