It poured yesterday, but last night didn’t get cold enough to freeze. Today is relatively warm, and the temperature will hit the high 40’s. The sky was cloudy earlier but now blue is peeking through, and I swear I saw sunlight. We’re in a warm day-cold night cycle. It will get to the low 30’s tonight.

When I went to get the papers, I saw the green shoots in the front garden are taller. I know they are a long way from buds and blooming but just seeing them is a hopeful sign. Spring is coming.

When I was a kid, I loved days like today. It was as if the whole world was starting over. The air smelled fresh. The dirt was soft, almost planting ready. I didn’t dress in layers. I didn’t need a hat or mittens. I think I skipped to school, a sort of bouncing celebration.

During recess, groups of girls, never boys, jumped rope. I remember the two rope swingers and a line of jumpers waiting their turns. We had sing songy rhymes and most of them sped up at the end when the rope swingers went faster and faster, “Janey and Johnny sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” We played different rope games. Sometimes the line, one at a time, took turns jumping in and out. Other times two of us were jumping together. That took talent. I remember standing beside the swinging rope waiting for just the right spot in time to jump in and then out. Jump ropes with wooden handles were prime stocking stuffers.

Today I’m watching disaster movies. So far the count is two meteors, an earthquake and a new ice age. The plot of each movie differs only in the method of destruction. The ending is the same. Earth always survives.

A wintry morning but the day will get warmer. I woke up to the sound of sleet hitting my bedroom window, but it has since stopped. The sky is even getting lighter. How nice it will be to have a real spring day.

My sister and I were chatting this morning. We talked about the house where we grew up, and each of us has memories enough to fill drawer after drawer, mostly different memories, but we do share two memories so large and bold they stand out from all the others. One is of the man in the duplex next door. His wife was German. Kids used to run by their house and yell Nazi at her, but that isn’t even the big memory, the fist fight is. He and his neighbor shared a duplex. That neighbor used to start the tongues wagging when he’d tie his toddler in a harness outside from the step rail to the yard. Those duplex neighbors shared a house but didn’t get along. Maybe that started the fight, but I don’t know. I do know it was quite a fight. They rolled down the hill together punching each other the whole way. We all stood and watched. I don’t remember how long it lasted or why it stopped. I was just amazed that two adult men were fighting in the backyard.

The second memory was of a women burned because she got too close to the stove, and her robe was set on fire. The ambulance gathered a crowd including lots of kids. The woman lived in the first apartments built for the elderly, what my father used to call wrinkle city. I remember the woman on the stretcher. Her hair was gone. Her head was red. My sister remembers the woman’s arms.

Memories often just sit waiting to be unearthed. My two memories today go way back to my childhood. I hadn’t thought of them in years.

The morning is warmer than it has been all week and tomorrow will be warmer still. The sun is bright, the air clear. Only the the smallest branches are moving. I need to go out later to get a few things, and I’m glad. I wouldn’t want to waste a day like today.

Sometimes I wake up in the very early morning. I check the clock. The other day it was 5:15. The house was dark and nighttime cold so I turned over and easily fell back to sleep.

When I worked, my alarm jarred me awake at 5 o’clock. I’d get out of bed, make my coffee, turn on the morning news, check my e-mail then be out of the house by 6:20. The papers usually came after I’d left. They were evening papers.

In Ghana, I didn’t use an alarm clock. I went to bed so early I woke up early. My bedroom windows stretched across the side wall and faced the school compound. From those windows, I could hear the voices of my students, their buckets clinking and water filling the buckets from the pump. I’d get up and get dressed then sit outside on my porch to have my first mug of coffee. For breakfast every day I had two eggs fried in peanut oil and two pieces of toast. After breakfast, I’d sit on the porch for a bit and dawdled while I finished my second mug of coffee. Soon enough it was time to teach my first class so I’d walk over to the classroom block and begin teaching. In between classes, I’d walk home and have another cup of coffee, my third of the day.

I loved mornings in Ghana. They smelled of wood burning. Roosters announced the start of the day. The air was not yet stifling. I didn’t ever have to rush. I could just sit on the porch and take it all in: the sounds, the smells and the roosters.

My mornings now remind me of my Ghanaian mornings but without roosters or charcoal fires. They are leisurely. I get to dawdle. On warm days I sit on the deck, drink my coffee and read my papers. I watch the birds. They are my silent roosters.

Warmth is coming but not today. I just have to be patient until tomorrow when it will reach at least 42˚. That’s tanning weather. Maybe the snow on the deck will melt by then, but I’m not confident. It is a hard, crusty snow.

If I could pick things to learn, I’d start with a musical instrument. I’m thinking ukulele. I’d get to wear a Hawaiian shirt, a straw hat and a lei. I wouldn’t sing along. The nun I had in the third grade made me too embarrassed to sing in front of people. The next thing for me to learn is cake decorating, using all the tips of the frosting bag to make magnificently frosted cakes over which people would ooh and ahh. I’m thinking I can start slowly with the star tip and do borders. If that doesn’t work, I can just turn the border into a straight line. I’ll call that plan b. I guess it would be easier to start decorating on paper first but that’s no fun. I wouldn’t get to eat and share all my mistakes.

I wish I knew a foreign language. I have words in Spanish, French and Hausa but sentences are a bit beyond me. I string three or so words together and hope I make sense. Charades too work well enough, but the one problem I usually seem to have is what in the heck am I eating. Once I was a clucking chicken and a mooing cow. The waiter laughed at me, but he mooed back so I knew it was beef under all that gravy.

Yesterday I stayed home, didn’t even get dressed. I read my library book a good portion of the day. I had crackers and cheese for a late lunch and eggs for dinner. They are my favorite fall back meal. I like they have so many configurations: hard boiled, soft-boiled, fried, poached or dropped eggs on toast as my mother always called them, scrambled and in an omelet with cheese, ham and on and on. I’ve had chicken eggs, goose eggs and Guinea fowl eggs. I have no preference. I like them all, mostly over easy.

Winter holds sway. Yesterday was windy and cold, really cold. I did my errands quickly so I could return to hearth and home. The day is a pretty one still cold but much less windy.

I have plenty of books to read, and there are B science fiction movies to watch. Right now it’s acid rain that eats through cars, buildings and people. It is really awful so I’m enjoying it

My dance card has been empty of late. The only entry most weeks is Sunday game night. I do errands but reluctantly. Winter puts me into a bit of a stupor.

My father worked for Hood Ice Cream. He became the manager in Hyannis which is why we moved to the cape. We ate a lot of ice cream. I remember my father once brought home a pint, and my sister wanted to know if it was for dolls. My father loved vanilla ice cream with Hershey’s Chocolate Syrup, lots of chocolate syrup. My favorite is mint chocolate chip though I did go through a mocha phase for a while. I think the only ice cream I don’t eat is butter pecan.

I’m staying in my cozy clothes. I have a book I’ve almost finished and a new one I got yesterday. I have plenty of food to keep me nourished like plantain chips, pizza, crackers and cheese and one frozen ice cream bar.

I do have to fill the bird feeders. A cardinal couple drops by most days as do the stalwart chickadees and nuthatches.

Henry seems to love this weather. He goes several times a day and runs all over the yard. I envy his energy.

I’m now watching a movie called Ice which is the whole plot. Sorry about the spoiler.

Today is a lovely winter’s day. The sun is bright with nary a cloud in the wide expanse of the blue sky. Though it is cold, it is above freezing so I can hear drips from the roof. When I went to get the papers, there was black ice on the road. I walked gingerly.

When I was a kid, a patch of ice meant running then sliding. The game was to slide the furthest. Sometimes we’d fall but usually into a snow bank next to the sidewalk. We’d laugh. It was all fun.

Recess this time of year wasn’t much fun. It was always cold. Most of the school yard was plowed and sanded, but we couldn’t play much, no jump roping, no basketball, no catch. Mostly we stood in groups, tried to stay warm and just talked. Girls were with girls on one side of the schoolyard and boys were with boys on the other side. We were too young for the twain to meet.

When I was in high school, we had the tiniest outside area. It bordered a parking lot. I think it was just meant for us to get some fresh air. We’d go out after lunch for ten or fifteen minutes and huddle in groups to stay warm.

Henry loves being outside and stays for the longest time. Yesterday I went from window to window watching him to see what was holding his attention. He ran along the fence line then stopped, sniffed a bit then ran again. His paw prints are all over the yard.

Last night I had the weirdest dream. I’m guessing its source was the story of the man who fought off a mountain lion. In my dream, I think an animal was attacking me so I kept fending it off with my hands. In defending myself, I grabbed my arm, perhaps thinking it was the animal’s face or leg, with my other arm and used enough force it woke me up. Should I run into a mountain lion, I’ll be ready.

No snow last night, just rain, so I’m content. The sky is gray but a light gray. It’s warm for now. Tonight, however, will be cold so I need to put deicer on the front steps before the wet snow left over from Saturday freezes.

Yesterday, the kids on the street were sledding down a neighbor’s front lawn, a hill of a lawn. They used thin metal sleds that look more like metal signs. They went far and fast, even across the snowless road.

Game night was great fun. Luckily, I did not have to wear the L earned last week, a night of total losses for me; instead, I was the big winner. My friend Tony wears the L.

I have no chores on my to do list. I could find a few, but I don’t really want to do anything constructive. Yesterday was busy. I went to the dump and then to the grocery store and then made food for last night. I went with comfort: mac and cheese and garlic bread. The Mac and cheese was delicious, oozing with Irish cheddar. The garlic bread was just the right touch. My friend, Clare, did the dessert: mint chip ice cream with hot sauce and whipped cream, a decadent end to a great evening. We do treat ourselves well.

When I was a kid, we couldn’t eat meat on Fridays. That meant school lunches with egg or tuna salad sandwiches. We didn’t like peanut butter and jelly or peanut butter and marshmallow. We thought of those as snacks, not meals. For dinner my mother often made fried dough which was our favorite. She’d fry the dough, and we’d slather it with butter then sprinkle on a bit of salt. She couldn’t fry fast enough.

Everything is melting. The drips are falling from the roof. The snow is gone from the roads. When I went to get the papers, I easily pushed the snow off the windshield using those papers wrapped in plastic. The sun is so bright on the snow I had to squint. The high today will be 40˚.

I didn’t go out yesterday, but I will today, to the grocery store for a few provisions. A snow storm starts tonight around eight, but I won’t get the heavy snow as it will turn to sleet quickly. The prediction is for 1-2 inches of kick away snow. The cold is coming back with a vengeance starting Tuesday night.

I’m in trouble. The best food to ward off inflammation is beans. I really hate beans except for string beans. They just don’t look like beans to me. String is the perfect description.

I want companies to hire older people, older like me, to test opening cans, bottles and packages. Today I tried to tear open a Henry treat bag at the indentation on one side of the top. It didn’t open after three or four tries so I had to use scissors on what was a reusable bag. Jar and bottle tops are often difficult to open. I turn and twist the top to no avail then I tap it on the floor hoping that will do the trick. I have a few gimmicks, tools, for easily opening tops, but they don’t always work either. Once I almost took the jar down the street to my neighbor, but that seemed too silly, and I’m not one to give up. On a few cans, the silver hand can opener won’t work. I think evaporated milk is one of them. My solution is to poke two holes, one on each side of the metal top, and wait for all of it to drain out of the small hole. Given all of this, I am willing to offer my services for a small fee to any company hoping to accommodate the growing older generation of baby boomers. I can see the ads now: Top tested by older folks and guaranteed to open.

“Walking in a winter wonderland,” is my theme song for today. The snow started around seven. It must have been mixed with rain as it made a sound when it hit the windows. I went back to bed. When I woke up, the world was silent. It was snowing.

When I let Henry out, he didn’t make it beyond the back door. I didn’t know if it was the snow or if he just couldn’t wait. He did go out later and went down the stairs so the snow was not a factor. I guess I slept almost too long for Henry.

The snow is heavy, perfect for making snowballs and snowmen but not so good for sledding. If I were a kid again, I’d want to be outside playing in the snow.

TCM has brought back my Saturday Double Creature Feature and has even added a third creature. I watched The Time Tunnel first, and now I’m watching Forbidden Planet. One of favorites is next, Them! I love those giant ants. “Make me a sergeant in charge of the booze,” is a line I always remember.

I am not going out today. Nothing is urgent enough to get me to clear off the walk and the car so I can hit the road. I’m thinking of baking later this afternoon. I’m hankering for something chocolatey.

On Saturdays my sisters played in the backyard, my brother was with his friends or even sometimes with me roaming the town either on foot or on bicycles, but if a good movie was playing, we’d go to the matinee. I think my mother loved that we were out of the house for so long.

I have racked up a fair number of sloth days lately and am actually getting antsy. I need to find something to entice me to get busy. I guess chocolate will do, maybe even frosted brownies. My mother used to make chocolate brownies with chocolate frosting and chocolate jimmies (sprinkles for those of you outside of New England). I don’t think I can do any better!

It is quite late I know because I had to be out and about early then I came home and did my usually morning stuff like the papers and a couple of cups of coffee. I added English muffins to the mix on which I slathered a royal fig fruit spread which raised the muffins to an ethereal level. I ration the fig spread.

Snow is coming again. The first storm will only drop around 2 inches, but the second snow storm on Saturday will be a combination of rain and snow, a wintry mix here on the cape. North of us could get hit with as many as 9 inches of snow. There is still time to pack your bags and move. As for me, I’ll hunker down after a quick trip for provisions which include chocolate and maybe a piece of pie.

Henry has turned another corner. The last one was when he started following me even into the bathroom so he can get patted and scratched. When I got home today, he came out of the den to greet me. That was a first.

I am watching The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind. It takes place in Malawi, but one scene is the same as one of my memories of Ghana. To prove that a child is old enough for school when there are no records, the child has to put his right hand across the top of his head and touch his left ear.

Now I have to hunt for my mukluks.