Yesterday’s St. Patrick’s Day dinner was superb. We feasted on the traditional meal of corned beef, potatoes, carrots and cabbage with wonderful Irish bread slathered with butter. In the background was Irish music compliments of Alexa. We were all in green as befitting the occasion. My friend Tony gave Clare, his wife, and me bags of St. Patrick’s Day goodies including green Snowballs, Necco Wafers and chocolates covered in shamrock decorated foil. It was a festive evening, a wonderful evening.

The weather is wintry with below freezing nights and mornings. Right now it is 24˚, but the sun is bright and the sky cloudless so the day is a pretty one. I do need to fill bird feeders and do a load of wash. That’s it for the day’s to do list.

Sometimes a perfect moment occurs, and I recognize it right away. These feelings of delight, of glee, usually come from something simple but wonderful.

I remember being in Ireland at a B&B in Youghal, a summer resort. It was off-season. My family and I, mother, father, grandfather and two aunts, were the only guests. My room was cold, no heat. The bed had layers of comforters. I took a bath, quickly toweled dry, put on warm clothes and jumped into bed.   I grabbed my book, a Dorothy Sayers Lord Peter Wimsey novel, and unwrapped my Cadbury fruit and nut bar. I broke off a piece and ate it. It was the food of the gods. There I was in Ireland warm under all those comforters, reading one of my favorite authors and eating chocolate. I knew I would never forget that moment.

I remember a summer day when I was sitting on the deck. Gracie was lying on the deck beside my chair. I was idly patting her. The sun was hot but there was a cooling breeze. The birds were in and out of the feeders. I could hear only their chirping. I realized they, Gracie and I had shared serenity.

The first sip of coffee in the morning, an outside shower at the close of a summer day, a favorite song playing on the radio, a book so good I can’t put it down, Maddie purring while I pat her, the first light of dawn and the last light of the day are moments to be savored, to be remembered. They are perfection.

The morning is chilly and cloudy so I was surprised to hear more drips from the roof. Given how cold it was last night, I checked the steps for any ice before I went to get the papers. They were dry. I was safe.

I love Twizzlers, cherry Twizzlers. When last I did Peapod, I ordered a big package of them and put them in the cabinet. A few days later, I had a sudden need for Twizzlers.  I went to the cabinet to get the package and was shocked by what I found. All the tops of the sticks of licorice were missing. There were gnaw marks. At least one mouse had returned. The old-fashion mouse trap had been on the floor with a glob of peanut butter inside for weeks, even months. On Wednesday morning I happen to look down. A mouse was in the trap. I don’t think he was there long, not enough mouse poop around the trap. Because the car was buried, I had to let the mouse go by the front door. It jumped into the deep snow and disappeared, fate unknown.

When I was around eleven, my family vacationed on an island in Maine. The house was isolated, at the end of a tire rutted road with grass between the ruts. I have a whole bunch of memories from that vacation. My father bought lobsters for him and my mother. The lobsters were alive. My father put them on the kitchen floor, and when they moved, my dog Duke kept barking at them. We stood around watching the dog and the lobsters and laughing. I figure the lobsters went in the pot, but I don’t remember that.

There was a sunroom off the kitchen. I remember a rocking chair and a bookcase. In that bookcase I found Robert Louis Stevenson’s A Child’s Garden of Verses. I sat, rocked and read that book cover to cover. I fell in love with poetry. I was amazed by Robert Louis Stevenson. He understood me as if he had been reading my mind.

The house got close, too many of us and too few private places. I took my book and went to read in the car. It was pouring so I ran. I stretched out on the back seat surrounded by the sound of the rain hitting the car. I read, and I fell asleep. I was there the whole afternoon until my father came to check on me.

My parent’s devised a treasure hunt. We followed the clues and ran from place to place. I remember a clue stuck inside a rotted tree lying on the ground. Our last clue led us to an old barn which was falling apart. A side of it was hanging. It was a great old barn, one perfect for later exploration. Our treasures sat right by the front opening. There they were, easy to find Hershey bars, the traditional ones. We were thrilled.

These memories sit in my memory drawer as clear as if they are new. I can close my eyes and see the house, the rocking chair and those Hershey bars.

This has been the most leisurely of mornings. When I woke up, I stayed in bed and finished my book then I came downstairs, got the papers and my coffee and read each paper from front to back. I then checked my e-mail and turned on MSNBC. That held my attention until the screen went black. That held my attention even more. The TV was on but the cable had disappeared. I checked on-line, and the Comcast page said problems in my area. I called my friend who lives in my area, down the street, and she has TV. I started a chat with Comcast but it disappeared so here I am.

Today is simply lovely. It is 40˚so the snow is melting. I am surrounded by the sounds of constant drips from the roof. I had my front door open to the sun for a long while until the sun started moving around my house on its way to the back, to the west.

Today is one of those quiet days I love. It’s a book day, a get cozy on the couch and read day. It’s a stay in the house and look at the world through the window day.

One of my prized travel possessions is a small book called JUST POINT! I bought it when I went to Russia in 1972 as I had no hope of pronouncing words I couldn’t read. The book is filled with pictures divided into categories. In the gifts section are pictures of leiderhosen, clocks, fans, lighters and statues, none of which I have ever bought, but it’s nice to know they’re handy just in case. There is a tobacco section should I ever feel the need for a cigar or a pipe. Ice is pictured in a bucket, and the phone still has a dial. Even the parts of a cow has its own page should I desire a specific cut of meat. I can travel by train, ship or airplane and point to what I need. A toilet seems to a prominent picture on several pages. For that I’m glad. In most of the pictures, people seem to be having a really great time. I especially like the smiling couple atop the elephant in the transportation section. He has a cigar and she’s wearing a hat. In that section, I get to point at the elephant, a rowboat, a canoe, a gondola, a sleigh, horses, a mountain tram or a camel. The automobile has its own section.

The emergency section is my favorite and it covers just about every contingency. A hand is being burned, hit by a nail and caught in a door. There’s a dog biting that same hand and some bees stinging it as well. I love the picture of a huge rock hitting a foot clad in high heels. Luckily for me there’s a picture of someone falling. I keep a sticky on that page. I can point to a sunburn, something in my eye and a traffic accident. Two pages are devoted to emergencies resulting from crime. There’s a pickpocket, a mugger, a camera snatcher and a suitcase thief. The last picture proves crime doesn’t pay as it is a policeman hauling away a criminal.

When I go where English is most decidedly a foreign language seldom spoken, this handy book will be safely packed in my carry-on. I can hardly wait to be in a place where I have to open a page and point. Page 19, however, will be skipped. It’s the one with the smiling beets and the Lima beans.

I know it is Wednesday, my usually quiet day, but I figured you were wondering what has been going on here in the land of sand dunes and beaches. At 1:15 yesterday the electricity went off for good. It had been going on and off all day so I was hoping that it would be back. Nope, that was the end of the warmth and comfort. My cell phone had no service so I was unable to communicate with anybody. My neighbor came over to check and make sure I was okay and to see if I need anything. I was glad to see him. I assured him that despite everything all was well.

We didn’t get anywhere near the amount of snow which was predicted. It is to difficult to figure exactly how much as the wind blew it all over there place. The snow is really high in some spots and barely covers the ground in others. For that I am thankful.

Last night I read until my fingers were too cold to turn the pages. I got under a down comforter and got warmer. I fell asleep until nine. I looked around the neighborhood. There were no lights next door so I figured they went to a motel or some other warm spot. A couple of neighbors had lanterns. One neighbor who is always awake most of the night had lights. He obviously has a generator. Now I want one. I read a bit more while wrapped in the comforter then fell asleep again until three. The house by then was about 59˚, and Maddie and I were cold. I fell asleep again. When I woke up this morning, the house was down to 51˚. I just couldn’t stay warm so I added afghans to my comforter. They helped. Poor Maddie’s fur was really cold to the touch. I put her on the comforter and build a bit of it around her. She is 18 1/2 so I worried, but she did just fine.

My friend arrived with coffee and chocolate cookies, the foods of the gods, just as the electricity came back on. It will take a while for the heat to warm the house.

No trees went down. The birds were in and out of the feeders even at the height of the storm, and Maddie and I are fine. All is right with my world!

I am going to my friend’s house for soup and company. I’m confident now that Maddie will be okay as will the house. I can already feel the heat.

I woke up this morning to a deep blue sky and a bright, eye squinting sun, but I was not taken in by the glory of the morning as the third nor’easter is heading this way. The weatherman says it will be a twenty-four hour event, and during that time it will dump 12-18 inches snow on us. That’s right. This time we get snow. The winds will blow as high as 60 miles per hour. The storm will start tonight around eleven.

I will join the rush to the supermarket. I need light cream, bread and cat food. I’m also thinking I need chocolate. It calms fears, gives comfort and chases away the blues. It even makes a nor’easter bearable.

The snow is almost magical, mesmerizing. When I was a kid, I used to watch it fall from inside my house out the picture window. A street light shined and highlighted the flakes. I could see them fall gently or be blown sideways from the wind. Now I turn on my back light and watch through the storm door. I keep track of the amount of snow as it piles on the top of the deck rail.

Last night as I was lying in bed, I kept hearing a sound I didn’t know. It was a muted scratching sound as if from behind a wall. It was intermittent. I had no guesses as to what it was. It was too loud for a mouse. It wasn’t a branch as there are none which touch the house. I had a couple removed last spring. They scraped my bedroom window. Maddie never comes upstairs so it wasn’t the pitter patter of little cat’s feet. I ran out of guesses and never figured it out, but it didn’t matter. I fell asleep anyway.

Because of the storm coming, I have to fill the bird feeders. I bought sunflower seeds, their favorite. I also have some mixed seeds I throw down under the deck for the doves who are ground feeders and for the spawns of Satan. I have suet for the woodpeckers. Maybe that’ll keep them from pecking holes in the back of my little library though it didn’t before.

By the time it starts to snow I’ll be ready and probably munching on chocolate. I’m thinking it might just be a rabbit, ears first.

I have a bunch of stuff on my to-do list including the dump which I did not visit yesterday. It was far too cold, and the dump is like a Siberian steppe when the wind blows so I stayed home and was quite cozy and warm.

My Nigerian seamstress is coming at 1 so I can’t get going until after she leaves. I hope to have time this afternoon to write Coffee, but if I don’t, I beg your pardon!

We have sun or maybe we had sun. I woke up and the morning was bright. I got the papers and checked out the garden. The yellow crocus have opened, and there are more of them. The sky is a cloudy blue. The sun keeps disappearing behind the clouds for a bit but has always come back. I’ll take the here again, gone again sun. It’s the best we’ve had for days.

I did not do the laundry yesterday. I walked around it on my way to the kitchen. I even added to it. I’ll try and work up enough energy to do it today, but I don’t really care.

Growing up is never easy. There are all sorts of things to learn, and I always learned the hard way when it came to my parents. I didn’t understand irony for a long time but then I mastered it. They weren’t pleased with me.

My mother used to say, “I see said the blindman as he picked up his hammer and saw.” I didn’t get it at first, but by the time I was eight or nine I understood what she meant. It was also about then I also started learning about tone. “It’s not what you say, but how you say it,” was another often heard phrase from my mother, usually directed at me.

My mother was an expert at guilt. If we were asked to do something and replied, “In a minute,” she would use that sad voice of hers and say, “Never mind. I’ll just do it myself.” The never mind was stretched out to the next block when she said it, and it was like a knife to the heart. We always scurried to do what she asked. I swear she smiled.

My parents were big on rhetorical questions, but I usually answered them anyway. “Do you think I have all day to clean up after you?” begged for an answer. “Do you think?” seemed an opening. It wasn’t. My father used to tell me not to answer back. I used to tell him he asked. I never won that debate.

I remember my father once telling me to help put the groceries away. It was an early Friday evening as that was always grocery time. I told him I was going out. He said do it. By then I had become an expert at deciphering tone, and I knew his well. I did what I was told with little grousing. In the process of putting the eggs in their little wells in the fridge, I dropped a couple. It was due to carelessness and speed. My father said he should have had my sister do it (the one seven years younger). I agreed and said I told you I was going out anyway. He didn’t appreciate my well honed skills at sarcasm and went ballistic on me.

I didn’t go out that night.