Keep the Coffee Comimg

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.

Today is sunny and winter warm. Everything is quiet. My house is almost totally cleared of wrapping paper and gifts except for a box to my sister with a gift, a very neat gift, which came later than the rest. It is ready to mail. I need egg nog and I need bread so I guess I’ll go out later today.

I’ve watched three Christmas Carol movies but I’ve saved the best, my all time favorite, for Christmas Eve, the Alastair Sim version. The only versions I don’t watch are the cartoons, except for Mickey’s. That one I love.

My house is getting cleaned today just in time for Christmas. I’m tired of picking up clumps of fur that swirl and eddy in front of me when I walk.

Christmas is the time for a suspension of disbelief. Wonder and Christmas are wrapped together. I still smile at the houses covered in lights. I chuckle when I see dark houses and remember my mother. She always said, “They must be Jewish,” just as a matter of observation.

When I was a kid, this week would have been intolerably slow. We’d watch Christmas programs, but they didn’t make the waiting any easier. My mother usually saved the Great Sugar Cookie Frosting Day for closer to Christmas. She’d make frosting and divide it into colors, green and red, and leave the white alone. We needed the white for Santa. Frosting day was always a messy day. Everything got frosted including the kitchen table and spoons which lost their identities under the thick, clumpy red or green frosting which covered them. Less is more never entered into the decorating. The cookies were covered and heavy with frosting. With the ones I decorated, I tried to be less liberal with the frosting and more creative. I used toothpicks to drop dots of color onto my Christmas Trees. I gave Santa eyes. I was an artist.

The weather hasn’t changed except to get a bit warmer. Last light it rained so today is cloudy and damp, familiar weather. The weatherman predicts tomorrow will be sunny. I hope he is right. I have stuff to do.

Today is the winter solstice and the longest night of the year. I get comfort, some small comfort, knowing daylight will start to last longer every day after today. In January we’ll gain between 90 seconds and two minutes of daylight. That’s a mood changer.

When I was a kid, I wasn’t all that afraid of nighttime, but I was afraid of unexpected noises in the dark. My father scared me once when he pretended to be the hook, the man with the hook, scratching the screen. I yelled at the noise like a B-movie character obviously making the wrong and fatal choice. Now the hook would know I was there. I was really scared. My father never scared me like that again.

I spend more time awake in the darkness of the late light, in the wee hours. In the summer, I like to sit out on the deck in the moonlight and look at the stars. Now, the cold means a quick in and out, but sometimes I stand outside for a bit and watch Henry then we both hurry inside out of the night cold.

I have a project I’ve been putting off, but it is time. I have two wooden boxes filled with albums, with vinyl. I know some are vintage Christmas, like from Grant’s, so it is time to go hunting. I have brought in a chair so I don’t have to sit on the floor. Comfort is my middle name.

My mother had a hifi early on. My father always got a huge bonus after Christmas, and one year he bought the hifi. It was brown. That’s all I remember. We played Christmas albums all the time. We’d load two or three of them on the spindle. My sisters used to sing along with Guy Lombardo and me because the lyrics for all the carols were on the record jacket. I remember Bing and his Christmas record with him on the front in a Santa hat and wearing a holly tie. I think everyone I knew had that album.

My Christmas tree lights are on, and all the candlelights on the living room tables are lit as is a gourd with a painted winter scene. On the hearth is a lantern with a brightly lit snowy scene of a car carrying a tree on its roof.

I love the feel of my living room. The soft light from the candles is comforting in its quiet. Their glow is bright on the floor and tables. Though the living room is simply decorated this year, it still keeps Christmas for me.

This morning’s weather seems to be the trend. It is again damp and cloudy. Color has disappeared. The pine trees in my backyard are silhouetted against the grey sky. The occasional breeze ruffles the dead leaves at the ends of the tallest oak branches. Nothing outside is inviting today.

My friends dropped by yesterday. They were in their car, and I was on the walkway to my house. We chatted a long time, long enough for frostbite to tickle my toes. I was so happy to see friends in real life.

I am in a never-ending battle with cardboard boxes. I do recycle them, but they need a ride to the dump so now my backseat and front passenger seat are filled. I could break them down, but I tried once and the box was stronger than I was, and I nearly fell over. In my defense, it was a huge box. Anyway, I am scheduling the dump run for Wednesday as it is closed tomorrow and Tuesday, and the trash isn’t quite ready yet.

When I was a kid, the trash trucks came once a week. Two guys hung off the back. They were the ones who jumped off, grabbed barrels from the sidewalks and dumped them at the back of the truck. Beside them on the truck was a lever. That was for the compressor (I’m guessing its name) which flattened trash and pushed it to the back. The truck motor was loud, but the compressor was louder. We’d stand on the sidewalk and watch the trash get flattened. It was worth our attention, kind of exciting.

Christmas is so close, but I have everything I need readied. I have the best appies for Christmas Eve, coconut shrimp with mango sauce and crab rangoon. I have a bottle of champagne and some orange juice for Christmas morning mimosas, a Ryan family tradition. The egg nog is chilled and ready for a bit of spirits. Dinner is ordered to be picked up on Christmas Eve morning. The presents are under my tree and on the hearth. There are lots of them.

My sister, Moe, when she was a kid would tear tiny holes in any presents under the tree. She was quite adept at hiding the holes. We just knew they were there. She also developed an uncanny gift of correctly guessing presents. She’d pick up a present, shake it and that was it. Surprise gone. Now, Moe waits, sometimes what seems like too long a time to open her presents. Somebody should check for holes.

The morning is cold. The small bit of snow left on the grass cracked when I walked on it on my way to the papers. That sound took me back to cold, cold mornings and walking to school across the field. Every place I stepped the ice cracked and web lines spread in front of my boots. I could see my path across the field in footsteps mostly cracked in the middle. Sometimes the cold took my breath away.

Today is in the mid-30’s. The morning sun and blue sky have been displaced by clouds. Outside looks cold. I shut the back door, Henry’s door, as I could feel the cold through the flap and down the hall. I think it is time for socks.

When I was a kid, everything Christmasy made me giddy. The countdown began one week away from the big day. When we got out of school for Christmas vacation, the excitement was palpable. December 23rd was often the last day of school and the last day before the big days.

Christmas Eve morning was usually anti-climatic. It was a regular winter morning, sometimes cold and sometimes damp. I wanted to wake up to parades and bands, to celebrations heralding the coming arrival of Santa. It was a day to be impatient and not at all sleepy, a day for surprises and for new pajamas. I remember watching A Christmas Carol almost every Christmas Eve after dinner.

I am staying home today as I have no reason to be out and about. I am dressed in comfy clothes. My warm around the house pants celebrate Christmas and are covered in gnomes wearing red hats and coats. My sweatshirt is red. I have plenty of food, a fridge full, some cheeses, hummus and pita, avocados, candy, chips and an onion dip. I have milk for cocoa and fluff to float on the top. I have cinnamon rolls in the can. I am in paradise.