Yesterday I was glued to the TV. I spoke on the phone to friends who were as shocked as I was. My friend Bill likened it to rubbernecking when going pass an automobile accident. He and Peg and I spoke for over an hour. Moe called from Colorado. Claire and Jay and I also spoke for nearly an hour. We were all appalled by the riots, the insurrectionists, the Republican congressmen who, after the riots, still continued to perpetuate the myth that the election was stolen from Trump and by the President himself who had urged the crowd to go to the capital but was silent until his short speech telling the rioters to go home, that he loved them, but he continued, in that speech, to insist falsely his reelection was stolen. It was no surprise his supporters rioted and broke into Congress. I admit none of us have ever been Trump fans, and, other than a nephew, my family and my friends vote democratic. My grandnephew, a ninth grader, can barely wait to vote. He will be old enough in the next election. He is a democrat, a diehard democrat at 14. That doesn’t surprise any of the family, a family of democrats.

Today is a lovely day, but I have no inclination to go out despite the full trunk of mostly bags of used cat litter. Those bags can wait another day. The TV is on to one of the news channel, but I jump back and forth between CNN and MSNBC. I don’t watch Fox.

Yesterday I walked around the house trying to figure out the right spots for a few of my Christmas presents. I found a home for one but not for the other two. I’ll walk around again today.

When I was in the seventh grade, I watched all four Kennedy-Nixon debates. I was a Kennedy fan, not for his politics but because he was from my state, was a democrat and was young and handsome.

Alexa was connected in the den. In the kitchen the Google device sat on the counter. I have never cursed an inanimate object as much as I cursed Alexa. She knows relatively nothing. Today I asked her the number of Kennedy-Nixon debates. She said, “Hmmm, I don’t know that one.” I went and asked Google. I got the answer and much more. Immediately I switched Google for Alexa. Now she sits in the kitchen virtually ignored while Google and I develop our relationship.

What a surprise! It is wet and rainy. The high will be in the low 40’s. Henry still needs dog food so, despite the rain, I’ll venture. A delivery is due today but won’t be here until after Henry’s usual dinner time.

Yesterday I was busy around the house. Most of Christmas is packed into bins. My presents have been put away. Tomorrow, the Epiphany, will be the end of lights shining in the darkness. Already most of my neighborhood is dark again.

When I was a kid, the early darkness and the cold of winter kept us inside after school. We watched TV or played in the cellar. If I had a book to read, it was my first choice though I would never turn down a game of Sorry. I don’t remember when our tree came down, but I think it probably was around New Year’s when my father had the day off. I do remember his struggle to get the tree out through our front door. All the while he wrestled with it, the tree dropped needles and pieces of icicles on the floor from the corner where it stood to the door. The rug looked like a road of needles. Clean up was never easy.

Okay, at one time I was an English teacher. I wince when I hear English turned on its head, upside down, a mishmash. It would be like a musician forced to listen to out of tune singers or instruments. This morning I got a chuckle from an article in the Cape paper about a man who stole a sword from a Revolutionary War statue forty years ago and wanted to return it. This quote is from Gaylord, the head of the historical commission. “Gaylord agreed to give the man anonymity if he returned the bronze sword and arranged for him to drop it off at her home along with his wife,” she said. I wonder what the man’s wife is thinking.

I slept quite late this morning and woke up closer to the afternoon than the morning. I have only read one paper, but I did watch MSNBC to check on the latest news. I have decided I can’t stand MSNBC’s and CNN’s in between program commercials. This morning I took a shower and made my bed while the commercials were playing.

In Ghana, salads had weird ingredients. They never had lettuce or cucumbers or peppers. Those veggies were’t grown in Ghana back then. There were hard-boiled eggs, tomatoes, Heinz baked beans and canned peas all stirred together with salad cream. I never made a salad, but any time I was invited to dinner at a Ghanaian’s house, this salad of sorts was on the table. I choked it down trying not to gag on the cold beans and cold peas, both straight from the can.

It rained during the night. I never heard it, but everything being wet this morning gave it away. Showers will continue during the day. The high will be in the 40’s. I do need to go out for animal food, but I’ll do a pick up at Agway and maybe a Ring’s pick-up for me. I do need milk.

Putting away Christmas will be finished today except for the tree. It will stay in the living room until Thursday when it will be returned to the cellar. My living room will look bare and dark. I do have a white lights set I never used. I’ll have to think on that.

After all this time in the house, I’m running out of things to keep me occupied. Yesterday’s sweep of the kitchen floor and the wet mopping which followed are signs of creeping boredom. I don’t just clean for the sake of it. Wait, wait, I forgot I have a new jigsaw puzzle. Hurrah, the day is saved.

I’m finding being alone more and more acceptable over time. The same thing happened in Ghana where I lived alone for the first time in my life. It took a while for me to adjust, but I did.

One of the effects of this pandemic is I have lost touch with friends which saddens me, but Bill and Peg and I have become closer as we’ve traded calls and kept in touch every few days. We make each other laugh, and I can’t think of anything better, but even Bill and Peg have become disembodied voices on the phone so we’re going to Zoom. I’ll wear my party hat.

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.