The day is warm with sunlight and a blue sky with scattered white clouds. I am a happy woman as my house is less cluttered from unwrapped Christmas gifts and wrapping paper as I move from room to room. In my bedroom, only empty bins are left to be put in the eaves when everything is finished. The living room is filled with bags overflowing with wrapped gifts. I have been in a frenzy, and everything is ready for UPS tomorrow. I just need to staple the tops of the bags, print labels and load the car.

My house is still bare of Christmas except for some poinsettias and a few table top decorations I bought at the florist. Once all the gifts are sent, I’ll bring up some decorations. I’ve ordered Christmas dinner for pickup on Christmas Eve. I’ve sent out my Christmas cards. My tree is still in the middle of the living room because I have to straighten branches and rehang the ornaments which fell during transport from the cellar, but it should be ready today. I’m also putting the cow and the donkey out front. My yard needs whimsy.

When I was a kid, I loved when it was time for decorating the tree and putting lights outside on the bushes and inside on the window sills. The bulbs on the outside lights were huge and always got hot. They were colored lights. That’s all anyone used back then. Last year my friends gave me a five bulb window decoration called a chandelier candle lamp. I did not know that it had its own name. One just like it was always in our picture window and always with orange bulbs. I put my new old one in the kitchen window which can be seen from the road. It is a connection to all those Christmases on Washington Ave when I raced to turn the bulbs on, to be the first. The big coup was turning on all five bulbs.

Yesterday was a good day. I wrapped gifts until I ran out of tape and I put more boxes and bags into the car for my dump run today. I need an empty car for the trip to UPS on Monday. I’m about half way through my wrapping.

The morning is foggy and hazy. It is warm and will get warmer, to the low 50’s. Everything is still in the thick air. Even the smallest branch just hangs. Rain is a possibility for later.

Sometimes Henry sits right beside, and if I don’t pat him, he gently taps the top of my leg with his paw. He follows me into the kitchen then leans on me for attention. I pat him, and I sometimes give him a treat.

Henry didn’t let me pat him for a long time when he first came to live here. I didn’t push it though I longed to pat him, to show him some love. Henry took time, but I was always patient. We started slowly with a pat or a scratch here and there, and finally, here we are nearly two plus years later, and Henry pats my leg.

The lights I put on the fence to replace the dead ones are LED’s. I swear they are so bright you can probably see them from space, or at least from a low flying airplane or better yet a helicopter just above the trees. One of the light sets I took off the fence still works. It was probably attached to the dead strand. I’ll use it on the mantle.

Cocoa has been my go to drink on the really cold nights. I fill my huge mug with milk and put it in the microwave to heat. The cocoa is an organic, dark hot cocoa mix. I smack my lips after every sip. It is that delicious.

When I was a kid, the milkman always left one bottle of chocolate milk with the bottles of white milk. I never thought of it as anything but ordinary. The house rule was we had to mix the chocolate with the white milk so the chocolate would go further, would last longer. Mostly we drank it at supper though it went well with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Actually, it went well with anything. Chocolate is like that.

This morning is one of my favorite sort of mornings. When I let Henry out for the first time, I went on the deck. It is chilly, but the sort of chill which doesn’t hang around. I can feel a warmer day coming. I can feel the sun.

My wrapping began in earnest yesterday. I finished two adults and three children and managed to clutter two more rooms. Here in the den is wrapping central. On my table are my tools: scissors, a pen, heavy string and small pieces of wrapping leftover from the bigger presents and a tube of the paper of the moment. In the living room, the couch holds the wrapped present bags. The dining room has two tubs of wrapping paper and a couple of empty boxes to be filled for mailing. I hate clutter. I’ll work quickly.

I have outside stuff needing tending. A set of white lights on the side fence died, but I was fine with that until a second set died. Now I have to replace both. My bird feeders need filling, and I haven’t yet hung the horse’s head for the spawns. That will be first as spawns are notoriously impatient.

My scrub pine is up from the cellar. It needs to be pulled and fluffed. That’s the tree usually lighting a corner in the dining room, but this year it will be my only tree and will be in the living room. It is wonderfully ugly.

Henry is to my left on the couch. He is gnawing on his new bone which arrived from Chewy this morning. It is an actual bone, and Henry gets one every new Chewy order. I can see the marrow is already gone at one end. The wooden floor below where Henry gnaws has a peculiar pattern in the wood. It almost looks like a bird’s claw trail in the sand, but the marks are indentations from the end of Henry’s bone when it falls off the couch to the floor. Henry’s bone is a heavy bone. Jack is asleep on my other side. He leans against the arm of the couch and me. It is one of his favorite spots.

My car is dump ready so maybe I’ll go out later in the afternoon, but that’s a big maybe. I just don’t feel it today.

I am watching LlamaGeddon. The introduction was wonderful, a cartoon showing not only the llama’s flight from his home planet but also pretty much the whole plot of the movie. The llama has arrived on Earth in his animal trailer with wings. He has red eyes and is bent on death and destruction. This is labeled a comedy.

Yesterday morning was about as cold as it has been. My windshield was covered in frost. The dog’s outside water bowl had a thin layer of ice. We had snow flurries in the afternoon, and snow is still on the lawn and in the shade of the backyard, but the snow will melt today as it is already in the 40’s and will get near 50.

The morning is pretty. The sun is bright in a blue sky. An every now and then breeze blows the top branches of the pines. My wrapping odyssey begins today.

When I was a kid, I remember watching Santa Claus on a New Hampshire channel. He was on every afternoon. I remember Little Suzy Snowflake, a black and white cartoon. I can still sing her song, “Tap, tap, tapping at my windowpane to tell me she’s in town.” Watching A Christmas Carol has been a tradition for as long as I can remember. I read it first. One of my grandmother’s brothers had given me a book of Christmas stories, and A Christmas Carol was one of them. I loved the ghosts and Jacob Marley with his chains. Alastair Sim is my favorite Scrooge, but I’ll watch just about any Christmas Carol movie.

I admit I watch a few scary Santas now that I’m older. Krampus is my favorite. In the film, all the lights are out because of the snow storm. Sounds come from the chimney flue. A hook on a chain is lowered, and the lure is a gingerbread man cookie. One of the kids takes a bite, the chain circles him, and the kid is pulled screaming up the chimney. That is just the beginning of the horror.

One Christmas Eve my mother and I were still awake. We were chatting and having a drink or two and watching Christmas movies. That was the night we found Jack Frost, not the feel good Jack Frost the miracle snowman who comes back to play with his kid, but the serial killer Jack Frost who on his way to be executed is in a crash with a genetics truck. He is transformed by the genetic material into a killer snowman who goes through a murderous rampage in Snowmonton, the snowman capital of the world. My mother and I stayed up to watch the whole movie. It was dark and deadly but it was funny. If you are overloaded with the sweetness of Hallmark and the seldom changing plot of the prince faling in love with the commoner, just say Jack Frost and head on over to Prime or Tubi. You’ll know which movie to click.

Everything was wet when I woke up. It had rained while I was sleeping, and, then this morning, the rain started again, but only for a short while.

The day is cold and dark, even bleak. It is a day for staying warm at home. I have chores to do here like finish putting presents into individual bags, maybe a half hour chore, then wrapping them, an endless chore.

My friend Peg and I spoke on the phone yesterday and laughed a lot, mostly about bugs. Bill, Peg and I lived in a duplex together on school grounds in Ghana. We used to have cockroach hunts in the outside kitchen. Peg remembered knocking on the wooden kitchen door and hearing the cockroaches scurrying at the sound before we went in armed and ready . They were big. I told Peg about one of my favorite movies, the original In-Laws. Peter Falk, a CIA agent, was at the dinner table with his son’s soon to be in-laws when he talked about the six months he spent in the bush, and the giant tsetse flies which picked children up with their beaks and took them away. The flies were called the Jose Grecos de Muerte, the flamingo dancers of death. That they had beaks was questioned. Faulk swore those flies had beaks and was sorry his slides couldn’t be processed. I’m telling you now I saw giant bugs in Ghana. I’m not sure about the beaks.

Peg and I laughed again about the flour. We had to buy giant bags of it which we stored in the kitchen we didn’t use because of no gas for the stove. The bags enticed what I think were weevils because we could see them in the flour, but that was no big deal. We just sifted the flour to catch the larger bugs. The smaller ones got baked into whatever we were making and were rendered harmless.

Peg and I couldn’t think of a bug which scares us either there or here. The centipede was impressive, and I did let it have his way, assuming it was male for no reason.

I am not a lover of flies. I know they do have a couple of redeemable factors, but I don’t care. Chase that fly. Either whack it with a magazine or swat it with an old fashion swatter. Jack eats flies thereby earning his keep.

When I went to get the papers, I could feel the morning chill. The air was clear, the way it is sometimes on winter mornings. The sunlight was slanted across the trees and empty gardens. I stood outside for a bit. It was a lovely morning, but since then, light grey clouds have taken over. It will be cold, down to the 30’s today with maybe rain tonight. I will be safe and warm at home.

This morning my mailman dropped off two packages. He was on a package run and will deliver my mail later. He told me he had worked all day Sunday.

Yesterday I ate Sunday dinner. It had been a while since I grabbed more than cereal, hot dogs or eggs on Sundays. I baked a spatchcocked chicken, two sweet potatoes and two regular Yukon Gold potatoes. For dinner, I chose the sweet potato to go with the chicken, and I added peas as I happened to have a can of Le Sueur Sweet Peas, my favorite, in the cabinet. The chicken was baked perfectly. The sweet potato was delicious. I loved my Sunday dinner, and I get to do eat it all again tonight.

I am behind my time as Bob Cratchit was. I have organized most of the gifts into bags and the bags are in family groups. I wonder what you call a group of presents in bags. I’m thinking a parcel of presents, but that seems too cute, too contrived. It could be an array as in hedgehogs, one of my favorite little animals. Even Henry has a hedgehog. I like passel as in passel of pigs though the pig part could be an issue, but, after searching a bit, I found the best description, a parade of presents. Into my head came a vision, a parade of dancing presents wrapped in different colored paper. Some had arms, some did not. Then It came to me. I remembered a popcorn box with arms. It was intermission at the drive-in when all the food went on parade.

My friends sent me an Advent calendar with a chocolate behind every number. I am so excited. I get to eat 7 days worth today.

The predicted winds arrived last night around six. They whooshed for a while. It started to rain again. The air felt warm at 48˚. But it’s getting colder now in the darkness, down to the 30’s. Henry doesn’t stay out long. I do have a jacket I bought for him last year, but I’m thinking he won’t allow me to put it on him. The jacket is blue, and it would stave off the cold and look good at the same time. Ah well!

As soon as I walked out the door this morning, I knew it was cold and it was cloudy, but the sun has since appeared with a winter sharpness. I asked and found out it is only 36˚ but the day will get as high as 44˚. That I think 44˚ is a high means my head is in winter mode.

Today is elf day when I am finalizing the Christmas count. Everything is so slow a few packages haven’t yet come. The one my sister sent the day after Thanksgiving priority mail from outside of Boston arrived yesterday. My mailman was delivering to me when another delivery car went by him. I asked about it, and my mailman said there were so many packages they had to have carriers just delivering packages, no mail, but my guy did deliver a couple of small packages to me.

When I was a kid, the mailman delivered twice a day during the Christmas season. We’d hurry to the door to be the first to grab the mail. There were always several envelopes, Christmas cards. We hoped for a card, and sometimes we got cards from our aunts. I remember a paper Santa Claus with a wreath empty in the middle for hanging on a branch. We put it on the tree, mostly to hide an empty spot. My mother would let us take turns opening family cards. I remember strings of cards above the couch and across the living room doorway. I still like to send cards. I have some amazing cards this year. I bought my Edward Gorey, a collection of Christmas cards, and there is a set with a pig walking upright who is dressed to the nines for Christmas. It is an amusing card. I have cards from the fifties which are wonderful surprises. I buy family cards. I wrote all the cards out last night, ready for mailing tomorrow after I buy stamps.

I’m thinking I need a ride to see the lights. Some neighborhoods are known for their lights. When I was a kid, it was a Saugus neighborhood, not so far away. I knew the route well. It was the same way we always got on and off Route 1. The houses were spectacular on street after street. I think we all had huge grins the whole time we looked out the windows. The lines of cars on both sides of the street went slowly. We went through twice so we each saw all the houses both sides of the street up-close.

My fence is lit with colored lights in the front. The side has a giant white star with a trail of white lights. The ornament tree will be lit from the new spot light I bought. I’ll put it out tomorrow. I also need to bring the cow up. I fell in love with him last Christmas. My yard will be bright in the darkness.

Today is dreary. The rain started last night and hasn’t stopped. It beats on the roof sometimes heavily. The wind is picking up as I can see the pine boughs bending. Henry had to be convinced that going out was a good idea. It wasn’t but he went anyway. I waited for him as he thinks the dog door works only one way. In a bit, he wanted out again, and off he went. I heard him banging the dog door cover for me to let him in, one of my least favorite Henry things, but I’m well trained. I got up, but, halleluia, Henry let himself in. He was soaked but he didn’t care. He knew he had earned a treat from his Christmas box. I gave him a frosted Santa.

My family always buys real Christmas trees. Last year I bought two, one short and one shorter. I put both in the corner. The shorter one went on a chair. Together they looked like a tall, full tree. On the smaller one I hung all my character ornaments: Mark Twain, Sherlock, Captain Hook, the witch from Over the Rainbow, some Chinese men traditionally dressed which might seem weird but isn’t. They look perfect on the tree. There are others, and this year I’m adding Ruth Bater Ginsburg in her robe and collar. The taller tree is filled with anything and everything, and its boughs bend a bit under the weight. I’m just fine with that. No icicles or tinsel are on either tree. I learned my lesson when I saw one of my cats had a strand I had to pull from a gross part of her anatomy. The icicles never appeared on any of my trees again.

My electricity blinked and havoc followed. The TV went out, and cable hasn’t come back, Alexa can’t connect, probably a good thing as Alexa is highly annoying, and the internet is unavailable. I’ll just keep typing.

Everything is back. Cable took the longest. If I heard Alexa with her red ring tell me one more time something was wrong, I would not have been responsible for my actions. I can hear her now, ” I do not know what is happening. Why am I flying?”

My sisters and I talk, and friends have called to make sure I’m okay. I’m working on that, but it just isn’t easy.

Today is cloudy and rain is predicted for later. It is warmer than I thought. When I went out with Henry, I could smell a wood fire so I stayed outside for a while. Henry impatiently waited. He didn’t appreciate the moment.

Yesterday I rode around for a while and made a couple of stops for the last of the Christmas presents. I bought books for all the grands, a tradition I started when their parents were young. Most are Christmas books but for the older two I got novels. One is Treasure Island. I wanted Little Men as Lexy had read Little Woman, but they only had an abridged version. I mean seriously who would think to abridge Little Men? I forget the name of the other one as it was recommended by one of the ladies at the store. I also stopped to buy chocolate to put into the Christmas bags.

My timetable tells me I need to finish putting the gifts into the individual bags. Starting tomorrow I wrap. My den then becomes Christmas central with bags and boxes all over the room waiting to be wrapped. My Christmas cards are also on the to-do list. I found some great cards this year including my traditional Edward Gorey’s.

In my long conversation with a friend yesterday, we talked about everything, including Mike. She wanted to know if I was spending time with the people in my bubble. She was shocked to find I have had no bubble all these months unless you count Henry and the two cats. I told her I talk to Henry all the time, but he doesn’t always listen. He stands there and looks dog bored. The cats are always bored. It is in their nature.

I actually did my wash yesterday, but the big load is still in the dryer. I chuckled when I realized that my laundry was mostly teeshirts, sweatshirts and flannel pants, the pieces of my usual daily ensemble. I do have a set of going out clothes, almost like my school clothes of old. I put them on, go out and then take them off when I get home. The only exception is when I go to the dump. It only rates my daily ensemble.

When I was growing up, there were the aunties. Auntie Clara and Auntie Madeline are the two I remember. Auntie Madeline was my grandmother’s sister. She always played the piano at parties, and everyone sang along. Singing was traditional at all family parties. I can see still the crowd in the kitchen at my parent’s house singing St. Patrick’s Day songs. My father stood by the counter, and I loved to listen to him sing. He had a great voice as did my mother.

In time, my parents and their siblings became the aunties and uncles. My mother had seven siblings, my father two. My Uncle Jack led the chorus in the kitchen. He loved Bing and thought of himself as a vocal kin. He’d get a ride from one of his kids every Friday to my parents’ house. They played games and sang in the kitchen as always. Once in a while, on a Friday, I’d get a late call. I’d pick up the phone and hear, “Leenie, Leenie,” which my uncle called me. We’d chat a bit then he’d ask if I wanted a song. I always said yes. When I was in Ghana, my sister put together a mixed tape of songs from the radio so I’d know what was new. When I listened, all of a sudden I heard my Uncle Jack singing a Bing song. He had seen my sister taping and wanted in. It was the most wonderful surprise.

My cousins and my siblings are now the aunties and uncles with grown children and grands. I am Aunt Kat.

Yesterday my phone rang at 8:15. The machine came on before I could pick it up. My sister left a message, and her voice alerted me that something horrible must have happened. I thought my Uncle Jack had passed, but it wasn’t Uncle Jack. It was my nephew Michael who had turned 39 last week. My brother, his father, found him. Michael was my godson. I have no words. I forget for a minute then I remember. I didn’t think this year could get worse. I was so very wrong.