Misery fills my day. The temperature, the real, not feels like, was 2° when I woke up. The house was a bit chilly, think mid 60’s, so now the heat is blasting. As for last night, around 2:30 or so, I was reading in bed when the electricity died. I decided to nestle under the covers with the dogs and go to sleep, but only a few minutes later the lights went on, and I could hear the heat. This morning is when sheer misery entered my life. My TV died during the night. The poor old thing probably couldn’t handle the quick on and off of electricity. I am bereft. It feels as if I’ve been thrown back in time to the days before TV. I will hunt for a new one, and until I find what I want and can afford, I’ll watch TV on my laptop.

When I was a kid, we first lived in South Boston. I have flashes of memories from back then when I was all of two or maybe three or four. I remember playing in the yard filled with clothes lines, and I can still see in my mind’s eye the building where my mother brought me for nursery school. It was made of brick and was across the street from our building. I don’t remember leaving, but I guess I just went out the door and went home. My mother brought me back, and I left again. It was the same the next day. I never went back. That was my first school experience.

Still in South Boston, the neighbors got the first TV. They used to open their apartment door so all the other neighbors could watch. It was like a movie theater with lines of chairs in the hall. It was miraculous.

I don’t remember when we got our first TV, but I also don’t remember a time before TV. The first TV I remember was in a giant cabinet with two doors. The set itself was small. We had an antenna on the roof and rabbit ears inside, but, regardless, the TV picture was often streaked with lines, and it flickered. I don’t think I cared. It was miraculous.

When I was in Ghana, I didn’t miss TV. I had a cassette player sent to me by my family during my first year. They had also sent maybe five or six cassettes. I played them most nights. Music and reading were my evening entertainments. I was quite content. I hope the same for now!!!

Cold doesn’t describe today. Frigid gets closer. Right now it is 21°. Add the wind and the temperature drops to a single digit, 7°. Tonight the high will be 14° and the low-7. I got my papers and yesterday’s mail this morning, and I can attest to the cold. I doubt there are enough layers to keep me warm so I have no intention of going out today. I won’t even get dressed. I may have to bake some brownies or something else sweet as I have nothing in the house. Chocolate would make today near perfect.

Yesterday afternoon I toyed with a nap. I put my book and glasses on the table and settled on the couch. I think I drifted off then I heard a noise. I checked. There she was, Miss Nala, looking at me with my glasses in her mouth and a proud look on her face. I asked her to drop it, which she sometimes does, and I mentioned a treat, but she ran out the backdoor. A few minutes later Nala came in for her treat, no glasses in her mouth. By then it was getting dark so I took my lantern and went outside. I held it close to the deck and hunted. I found my glasses in a small drift of snow. The only damage is one ear piece bent a bit. I know you’re probably thinking why did I put them where the queen of felonies could steal them. The glasses have always been put on that on the table. We’re talking years. I have no inkling as to why she steals what she steals except for the food. She found my carefully hidden stash of animal crackers. I am still devastated.

When I was a kid, I went to St. Patrick’s Grammar School from grades one to eight. I remember two teachers more than others. The first was my sixth grade teacher, Miss Quilter. She made everything come alive. She made me want to be the best I could be. The other was Sister Hildegard. She was my eighth grade teacher. She should have been retired. I used to leave school a few hours early. I never sneaked out but always told her where I was going. She’d wave her hand in dismissal, and I was gone usually with my friend Jimmy. Sister Hildegard did not enjoy my classmates and me. She accused of collusion with the devil. She used to say when we graduated she’d write across the backboard in giant letters, “Thank God they’re gone.”

The snow lasted about 20 minutes this morning. It was wet and heavy and had started sticking to the ground just before it stopped. Real winter has reared its ugly head. We’ll have mid to low 30’s during the day and the twenties and lower at night until the weekend. That is when winter truly bursts onto the scene and freezes us all. At night, on Friday, it will get down to 10°, Saturday 6° and Sunday 15°. The weird day is Sunday. It will be in the 40’s during the day before it plummets to the teens. My plans for the weekend will be to stay home and stay warm. I may even have dinner delivered. I’m thinking Chinese.

Hooray! Today is graduation day. I had my last PT this morning, mostly measurements of the finger, sort of the final exam. I have been a bit frustrated by the slowness of the changes. The finger tip still dips and the finger periodically swells. My PT person kept telling me that the bite was horrific, and the finger was massively damaged so it will take time, up to a year my surgeon told me. My PT person is pleased with the progress. I expect I should be too. All this started 4 months ago.

When I was a young teen, my brother and I were in a car with friends. We drove by a policeman sitting in his car. My brother told me to bark out the window. I didn’t know why, but it seemed innocent enough, maybe be even a joke. It wasn’t. The cop chased our car with blue lights blinking. He wanted to know who barked. “I did.” I got a lecture about respect to police and how lucky I was not to be arrested. For barking out the window? Come to find out this policeman had killed a dog which he thought was attacking him. My brother knew it. He set me up.

When I was still working, I was driving home one night from a meeting. A police car was behind me. As I turned into the street, he turned his lights on and followed me home as it was just around the corner. I was flabbergasted. I hadn’t been speeding. He pulled behind me. I could see my neighbors peeking through their curtains. The police office got out and came to the car. I rolled down the window. “Hi, Miss Ryan.” It was one of my former students who thought he’d say hi.

Since I started writing this, the day has darkened. Nothing is moving, not even the smallest branch. It is really cold. I’m glad to be home.

Last night it rained. It was unexpected. The morning started as a leftover, cloudy day, a warm day at 45°, but the sun has broken through and the blue sky spans the horizon. The Globe had an article about this winter’s heat. January’s average temperature was 16° above normal, and they are predicting an almost snowless, warmer than average February. Soon enough, okay not so soon, New England is predicted to have weather similar to present day Florida’s winter warmth. I guess that means a return migration. They’ll be back, all those Floridians who used to be New Englanders.

Yesterday I outdid myself. First, I cleaned the yard and was quite surprised by the treasures Nala chose to steal. One was the wastebasket from upstairs. It is made of Ghanaian cloth and is lined with plastic from water sachets which are heat sealed plastic bags filled with sanitized water. They are sold by small girls from trays carried on their heads. They are the trash everywhere in Ghana. Surprisingly, there was no damage so it is back upstairs, but I don’t know for how long. I also found the jar of my Colorado blueberry jelly. The cover was still on. Empty cat food cans filled with water littered the yard. Gnawed, torn pieces of paper were all over the yard. My prisoner stick worked well on those. I found stuffing from cloth Christmas decorations which looked like snow, fluffy white snow. When I finished, I treated myself to coffee and toast with blueberry jelly.

My next chore was to bring down to the cellar the bins filled with Christmas and those decorations too big for the bins. I made 5 trips going slowly one step at a time as I do have a near tragic history with stairs. Think broken bones. On two of those trips I took only one decoration at a time, first the block tree then the pine cone tree. No animals were hurt during this activity. I replaced the front door wreath with a wooden snowflake then I took another coffee break.

Last night I was tired. All that cleaning is unnatural. I am a sloth.

The sun was shining earlier. I was surprised at how warm it was when I got the papers. It was 50°, almost today’s high of 52°. No wind is the difference. I have a list of chores. Topping that list is the yard clean-up. I see papers everywhere. The house is next. It too still needs a bit of clean-up, but for that I need my dustpan and brush. It was in the living room. It isn’t now. I guess it grew appendages.

Sometimes I forget what I want. I start to go to somewhere, but then, on the way, I get distracted by things like a crooked picture, a giant, menacing dust bunny or Nala’s chewed scraps of paper. I stop to clean, but by the time I’m finished, I have usually totally forgotten what I originally wanted. I decided to start carrying a notepad and a pencil connected to the pad by a string. I’ll write on the pad the day and date and where I’m going and why. I’ll just have to remember to check.

When I was a kid, I had no idea what was going on with world until John Kennedy was running for president. I read the paper for the news, followed his campaign and wore his buttons. “If I were twenty-one, I’d vote for Kennedy,” is the message on the big campaign button and my favorite button. My second favorite is, “Returned Peace Corps Volunteer for McGovern-Schriver.” I also have a McGovern-Eagleton button I pinned to my backpack when I went to Europe the summer before the election. In Finland, I was sitting in in the hotel restaurant having dinner, reindeer, and watching TV. I was in the Arctic Circle with herds of reindeer blocking the road and an endless sun.

When I lived in Ghana, I knew what was happening in the world as it was summarized in the Week in Review from the New York Times which Peace Corps sent us every week. So much was happening. I missed, in my first year, 1969-1970, the moon landing, Woodstock, Manson, the breakup of The Beatles, the continuing anti-war protests and Kent State.

I, hungry for news, at first greedily read that paper, but, within a short time, I’d only browse the column headlines then give the rest of the paper to Thomas to use to start charcoal and to sell in the market. Time moved, and I stopped reading the Week in Review at all. I disconnected.

Today is lovely. It will be close to 50°, but a strong wind blows now and again chilling the air even more. The sky is mostly blue. I’m staying close to hearth and home. I have chores. Some Nala trash still litters the backyard so I’ll grab my prisoner stick and get clearing. When I walk through the house, I am ominously surrounded by dust devils. They swirl around my feet. They need to go. I’ll vacuum. The kitchen floor needs sweeping and washing. After days of ark building rain and dogs coming and going, the tile floor is covered in dog prints.

The nuns would call Nala an occasion of sin. She is a bad influence on Henry. Yesterday she brought a small branch into the house, chewed it a bit then lost interest. Later, I saw Henry with the branch in his mouth. Nooooooooo!!!

I am bored. Last night I finished my book and haven’t started a new one. I keep looking but have yet to find anything on TV to watch. I started watching but didn’t finish movies, old TV shows and even the news in case I missed anything. None held my interest. I’m still in my cozies and have no desire to get dressed. I’ll do a few chores then feel as if I’ve deserved the nap I know I’m going to take.

Once Christmas is over, winter has little to commend it. When I was a kid, the weather determined my activities for Saturdays. On nice winter days, I would do outside stuff like skating and bike riding and sledding if we had snow. On ugly, cold, wet days, I often went to the Saturday matinee, a winter only event. I remember only two movies: The Wizard of Oz and The Song of the South. My favorite scene from The Wizard of Oz was when the house landed in Munchkin Land and everything was in color. That was jaw dropping. In Song of the South it was Zip-a-Dee-Do-Dah. I always wished I was right there in the movie skipping and singing along with Uncle Remus, the three kids, Br’er Rabbit, Mr. Bluebird, the bees, butterflies and hummingbirds.

I just turned up the heat. I can’t seem to get warm. I’m about to layer.

The day is beautiful but cold at 38°. The high will be 39°. I can hardly wait. Where the heck is that sunscreen?

The dogs stay out a long time. I get nervous. Memories of Miss Gracie, the talented 6 foot fence jumper, flood my brain so I go check on the dogs! I should know better. They are always there. Henry comes when I call. Nala mostly does, but she takes longer and sometimes even hides, especially if she has a spawn or some other creature already gone to its heavenly reward in her mouth. If I go into the yard, Nala will run the circuit of the yard at breakneck speed still carrying her prize. I let her. Nala loves to lie in the sun in the rough grass near the back fence. I can’t see her from here because of the trees so I go into the yard. She is usually sprawled and asleep. I want Nala’s life.

When I was a kid in probably the second or third grade, I saw at the top of my neighbor’s paper JMJ. It wasn’t her name so I asked. She said it meant Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Why at the top of your paper? She told me they are blessing her endeavors (my adult word). I didn’t add the initials to my paper. I winged it on my own.

Life gets quiet for me this time of year. I stay home in my comfy clothes unless uke and PT force me to get dressed and out of the house. I have only one PT left. Uke is twice a week, large group practice and a small group lesson. That will continue. I promise I will not grouse about getting up, dressed and out twice a week. I like my uke.

I don’t use much ketchup or, if you prefer, catsup. The other night I had hot dogs for dinner, a common occurrence in this house. I use mustard and piccalilli. Once in a while I use ketchup on my burgers and my fries, but I prefer mayonnaise on both. I believe it is against the law in 38 states to put ketchup on hot dogs.

Today is warm, actually 50° warm. The wind, though, is chilly. I had PT earlier and after PT I had to stop for animal food which is why I am so late. I only have one more PT session left which means my dog injured finger, think bitten, may permanently look like a dowsing rod.

Similar to figuring out the age of a tree from the rings is finding the age of the old person from the winter layers. Today I wore my flannel shirt. That was it for upper warmth. One lady had on a heavy shirt, a hooded sweat shirt, a down jacket, a scarf covering the bottom part of her face and a hat pulled down over her eyes. In the old days, she would have been a bank robber or a train robber hiding her identity.

Nala didn’t come inside right away yesterday morning. I knew exactly what that meant so I went on the deck to check. Yup, she had a flopping spawn in her mouth as she was running about the yard. I turned around and went back into the house. I have learned she will run a while, get tired of it and come inside. That’s what happened, but later it was Henry who didn’t come inside. That hasn’t happened before. Yup, he had the now headless spawn. I put him and Nala into house then threw the spawn in the brush outside the fence. Nala’s yard trash is getting far more complicated.

When I was in Ghana, Patrick, another volunteer, and I went into town to see a movie. We got the roof seats, the expensive seats. Think Green Monster. We ordered kebabs hoping for beef and not liver. The server first brought up soap, a bowl of water and towels as it was customary to wash your hands before eating. She brought up the meat. We got liver. The movie came next. It was Bollywood singing throughout the whole film. But it is the ride home which is the climax of this story. We each had our own motos. Patrick was ahead of me. It was night. I kept looking at the sky and the stars as I drove. They were always mesmerizing. When I looked at the road again, Patrick was gone. The road was straight for miles so I would have seen his bike lights. No lights. No Partick. My mind reeled. I went first to aliens though I should have seen their landing lights. I stopped to check the fields, but they were down to dirt, no crops, no Patrick. The stars were so bright you could read by them. Patrick was gone. I didn’t know what to do. How do I explain the missing Patrick? I heard a noise, “Hello, Hello.” I followed the sound. I found Patrick. He and his moto had fallen into a hole, deep enough to hide them, in the middle of the road. I helped him out. The moto was fine and so was Pat. I was disappointed. Finding him had ruined a potentially great story.

A while ago I swear I saw the sun behind a bank of clouds, but I was hesitant to believe my eyes so I went back to my coffee and papers. When I looked later, a bit of blue sky was poking through the grey. I wanted to dance in the street, but I’m glad I didn’t because the clouds are back, darker than before, and the wind is stronger. Nothing is left of the blue. The day is cold at 39°, but the wind makes it feel so much colder. I have uke practice tonight. Bundling will be in order before I hit the elements.

The forecast for today is partly cloudy though fully cloudy would be more accurate as the clouds have taken up permanent residence. My mood is even starting to resemble a cloudy day. I need sun.

This morning when I was going back into the house I stopped short at the front garden, startled by what I noticed. I saw green shoots. On the left side of the garden, the shoots are an inch or more above the ground. The ones on the right are a bit taller. All this winter warmth has beguiled Mother Nature.

The dogs are restless. They have been on and off the couch and back and forth outside. Henry is sitting at the front door watching for shadows. He is barking, of course. Nala is looking out the den window, her window, the one with the nose prints. I have no idea what occupies her attention as there is no one next door at the rental, and the spawns have not been around of late. Maybe she is just hoping.

My favorite cake is chocolate. I like it with chocolate frosting. Spice cake is not so common, but I’m a fan even though It has almost been forever since I last had a slice of one. I don’t like cake and ice cream together. I never have. The cake looks gross once the melting ice cream hits it, and, once it does, the ice cream gets crummy. Lemon is a favorite, even a lemon donut. Lemon meringue pie is heavenly.

Sun just won’t be enough for me. I think I’m needing chocolate in any form. I’ll also take lemon in a pinch.