Today is going to be rainy. It is already damp. The weather is warmish, in the 50’s. The clouds are a light gray, not so ominous. I have a concert today at 5, but I need gas and a few groceries, including dog canned food, so I’ll go early and shop.

I don’t remember the first time I made it to midnight on New Year’s Eve, the first time I got to ring in the new year which is, if you think about it, quite a responsibility. We made a racket with our metal noisemakers. I spun mine for all I was worth. Out with the old. In with the new.

When I was older, I went to New Year’s Eve parties. We all did. I remember the hoopla at midnight, the toast, the yelling of Happy New Year and the kissing. One New Year’s Eve my mother and I did first night in Reading, the town next to hers. It was fun. We went to a few venues then stopped for dinner and had Chinese, traditional for New Year’s Eve. The last half of the evening we traveled all over town. We lasted until midnight.

I have no collection of celebrating New Year’s in Ghana other than dinner with friends. We were on school holiday, and I usually traveled to Accra then points east, Togo and Benin, Dahomey in my day. I’d run into friends I hadn’t seen in a while at the hostels in Accra and Lome, Togo, and we’d get together for dinner. I ate a lot of bifteck and pomme frites in restaurants along the water in Lome. I also remember a lobster dinner in Lome. The lobster had been grilled, first time I ever had it that way. In Accra, the treat was Chinese food, a few times of the year.

Tonight I’ll be home after the concert. I’ll be awake at midnight as I usually am, and I’ll welcome the new yer and make some noise. I always hope that every new year will be better than the old one wearily walking away.

Today is an early spring day when it is chilly but not cold. It is in the 50’s. The wind has disappeared. The sun is bright and glints around the branches to brighten the yard. I need to go out later. It is a lovely day to be outside.

The dogs are my barometers. This morning they were out a long time so I knew the weather had gotten warmer. When it is cold, they are out and back inside quickly huffing from the cold air. Even their fur feels cold but not right now, not today. They are out again, missing their naps. That is the sign of a sweet day.

When I was a kid, the New Year didn’t really mean much. January was January no matter the year. My only acknowledgment was changing the year on my school paper headings.

I don’t make resolutions. I am quite bad at meeting expectations so resolutions just set me up for failure. I could be better in many ways, but I can work on that anytime. I don’t need a resolution.

After Christmas, I aways showed off my new Christmas clothes. Because I wore a uniform to school, my wardrobe wasn’t very large so I always loved preening in my new clothes. I remember one year, the wonderful year of the white sweater, a fluffy white sweater, and a new plaid, woolen skirt. I also got a gold pendant on a heavy chain. The pendant was big and looked like the sun with rays all around. I remember wearing the new ensemble Christmas Day to church and to my grandparents’ house.

I have mentioned this next outfit on other blogs. It is my all time favorite clothes present ever. The pants were black and had the foot loops ski pants had. The sweater was pink and fluffy, Angora fluffy. It was beautiful and the height of fashion. I also got a ski jacket, the sort with no lining you wear with layers. I remember it had two pockets and a half way zipper. It was blue. It too was quite fashionable: being a skier was unnecessary. I wore out that ensemble.

This Christmas I stayed in my flannel pants and sweatshirt. The pants had a Christmas theme. There were fish and lobsters wearing Santa hats or carrying strands of lights. There were decorated sleds. I felt festive.

I got a new t-shirt for Christmas from my sister. It is black and says, “You don’t need therapy. You just need to go to Ghana.” The truest words ever written on a tee-shirt!

The morning is warm at 46°. The sun hangs in a blue sky intermittently covered in clouds. The blue is both dark and light. The clouds are thick in some spots and wispy in others. It is as if the day hasn’t quite decided what it wants to be.

I was out and about earlier as I had PT this morning. It was slow going as my finger is sore and swollen from PT Tuesday and uke Tuesday night. Before I left PT, I was able to switch all my Tuesdays to different days. That should help.

When I was a kid, today would have been a warm enough day for bike riding, but first, before I could put my feet to the pedals, I had to get my bike out of its winter quarters, the cellar. In front of the cellar door was a concrete wall. The steps were to the left. The space between the door and the wall was so narrow I had to lift my bike, back wheel to the ground, front wheel to the air, and turn it left then I could walk it up the stairs. It became quite an easy maneuver, honed through practice.

Even when I was growing up, I noticed that after Christmas things changed. The colored lights were gone. Darkness came back. Only the street lights with small shining circles below them were lit. I still liked my presents but some of the newness had worn off. They felt familiar now. There was no excitement, no countdown of the days. We went day to day. If the weather was good and we had snow, we’d sled, on cold days we’d ice skate, but on warm days, we’d pull out our bikes, but the days were often grey, cloudy and cold so we were stuck inside. We watched TV. I read. We played games, board games, but it didn’t take long for ennui, a winter malady, to take over. Everything was boring. By the end of the week, we were ready for school, for the end of Christmas vacation. Nothing entertained us any more. We were into a bleak January. All the good spirits were gone.

My dance card has not been empty this week. I had PT twice, uke practice on Tuesday, and we have a concert Saturday. I didn’t even have time for naps. I’m not sure if I really like busy weeks. I am, at heart, a sloth.

Today is cold. The high is right now at 34°. I was out earlier as I had PT then I shopped at Agway. I got plenty of dog food cans but forgot the dry. I’m finding my mental lists tend to loose a few items from here to there. I’ve used mnemonics, but I didn’t this time. I was sure I’d remember.

Even when I was a kid, the week after Christmas was slow. If it was cold enough, we’d go skating at the temporary rink in Recreation Park. Sometimes we’d skate at the swamp. Once in a while, we’d take the bus to the MDC Rink in Medford. I remember the bus made a stop at the New England Sanitarium and Hospital. That’s where I was born. The stop was in front of a beautiful old stone building. Student nurses lived there. I’d see them sometimes in their white uniforms and stiff caps. I skated until my feet began to hurt. I remember on the walk home my feet felt strange out of the skates. I was tired by the end of the day.

I’d read my new books. I always got books for Christmas. One year I got the book Alive, the story of the rugby team whose plane crashed in the Andes. They were there 10 weeks before being found, and only 16 of the 45 passengers were found alive. They stayed alive by eating human flesh. I read that book all day Christmas Day. My mother told me I should be saving it, not reading it so quickly. I pondered that and rejected it.

Our Christmas dinner was always in the early afternoon, usually around two. It was always spectacular, special. We had turkey when I was little, but when I was much older, we had a rib roast or a crown pork roast always accompanied by potatoes. My father was the original meat and potatoes guy. We had the squash dish which appeared on every holiday table. The rest of the vegetables, except for my father’s canned asparagus, varied year by year.

After the dishes were cleared and the kitchen put to rights, the table was laden with desserts: heaps of cookies, maybe a pie or two, whoopee pies, date nut bread and candy, my English toffee. We’d eat dessert in the living room. The tree was lit and the presents were stacked in individual piles. I’d look through my stocking again. Christmas Day was always the best day of the year.

Today is a pretty day with lots of sun and lots of blue. It is warmer than yesterday, all the way to 26°. I am down to one can of dog food and a couple of packets of pumpkin for dogs. I figure I can mix the two and pick up the cans of dog food tomorrow as I’ll be out anyway for PT at 11. I love to confine my errands to one day. That allows for a sense of accomplishment and free days the rest of the week to loll.

Yesterday was a Merry Christmas. I had coffee and read the paper then I opened the presents from my sisters and oohed and ahhed. The presents were unique. From the flea market came the neatest, old fashion metal noisemakers decorated for New Year’s with a couple wearing masks when they danced. They joined my collection. From my home town came a cookbook and a picture of the 10-Footer, the backyard shoe shop belonging originally to Mr. Doucette, a designated historical site. There were woven baskets, decorations like a really neat looking cloth Christmas tree with what sort of looks like three sets of arms, a gift card from my favorite place to shop, Ring Brothers, and my cinnamon lollipops just to name a few of my gifts.

I had a great time opening packages despite Nala checking out every package. My sister Sheila gave the dogs each a new stuffed animal which makes a squealing sound. I find the toys all over. They are a hit as were the frosted Christmas dog cookies she sent, two for each pup. She sent me my peanut butter balls and my sweetened walnuts. I take one peanut butter ball every time I am in the kitchen. I find myself making extra trips. Dinner was late, spaced well after my shrimp and my clam chowder. It was delicious.

Today is a lazy day. I’m going to read through my new cookbook and look at all my presents. I’ll munch a few See’s chocolates, a gift from my sister Moe in Colorado. I have cheese and crackers. I have egg nog. Today will be a sterling day!

Merry Christmas! I hope for all of you the most wonderful day, a most memorable day filled with the joys of Christmas. Let the festivities begin.

All the Christmas lights are lit. I even lit the red pepper lights and the clam lights in the kitchen. The house is merry. I will open presents and drink some egg nog, a perfect way to spend the morning. I’ll play Christmas carols all day. I’m wearing my Christmas flannel pants, the height of coziness in the spirit of the day. My slippers keep my feet warm. I have Christmas cookies, a gift from my friend and neighbor. The coffee is fresh, strong and hot. It is a perfect Christmas morning, and I haven’t even opened my gifts yet. Amazing!

Today is freezing again. We have snow flurries. We had some yesterday, and they stayed on the grass. My walk is clear, the snow blown by the wind. The temperature is 20°, and, with the wind, feels like 9°. I have nowhere I want to be, except home.

I remember the first look through the banister at the tree surrounded by presents on Christmas morning. The view was jaw dropping. I was awed. In the front were always the games. I remember the year Sorry had the front spot. My Ginny and her new furniture had a bit of the spotlight one year. I remember first seeing her pink bed. My bike towered over everything. I didn’t care if I had another present under the tree. I had already gotten the best present.

When we were older, and in a different house from our childhood, the presents were in piles about the living room in the same spots every Christmas. All the presents in the four piles were wrapped. That made for some shaking and some guessing before opening the gifts. My father would always get a trash bag for the discarded wrappings. He would hold it in front of us so we could collect the piles of paper and put them in the bag. My dad and his trash bag is a memory from the back of the memory drawer which I only open once a year, at Christmas. The trash bag is a cherished memory, not the usual Christmas memory, but cherished because it has my Dad.

Last night the wind started. I was with Jack in the cat room when a wind shook the house. All three animals looked up. I looked at the walls. That was the strongest wind of all. It was scary.

My tree is still unlit, but that is only because I stayed away; now, however, I am ready again to brave the unlit lights except I have a plan. If they don’t get lit, I’ll just replace the strands. I have more.

We used to hang our stockings on the tiny bannister on the way upstairs. Mine was on the top. I was the oldest. I remember that stocking and my name in glitter. Over time it started to unravel. That’s when I lost touch with my stocking. I figure it must have been tossed when my parents moved, and I was in Ghana. My sister, the youngest of the four of us, still has hers. I think because she and her stocking moved together. What a wonderful thing to have!

I gave each of my sisters’ kids, a niece and two nephews, their Christmas stockings. I even needle-pointed my niece’s, and my mother backed the stocking. I think it has immeasurable value, my mother’s handiwork. I also gave my niece and nephews’ kids their stockings. My sister told me it was a tradition. My last grandnephew was born a year ago. He got a different sort of stocking, one knitted by a woman in England. I found her on Etsy and have used her talents three times for three different stockings. She never disappointed.

I used to think that traditions came from way back. Some do but others are new. I used to fill three piñatas, one each for my niece and her two brothers, my nephews, to be whacked on Christmas Eve. It was a Christmas highlight. Now, my niece and my nephew filled piñatas for each others’ kids. It is an aunt and nephew thing.

I send gingerbread houses to be constructed and decorated to my niece and nephews. I started sending them to my sister’s kids when my oldest nephew was three. The houses are sent to their kids now. One of my favorites pictures of one year’s completed construction was the Star Wars encampment my grand-nephew built, the one who is now 16. Walls were still walls, but his walls circled a rebellion camp. He used his Star War figures to protect his people behind the walls of his gingerbread house. It was a grand design.

I am quite behind my time. The morning has been busy. I had PT, went to the dump, shopped at Ring’s and went to have blood drawn. I’m tired of the car, and ‘m tired of clothes.

Last night I put my tree in the stand and put on the lights. It was lovely. I then moved the tree to its Christmas spot. That was a mistake. It fell over, and the lights wouldn’t light. I tried everything. I know the expletives that exploded from my lips zapped me directly to the naughty list. I didn’t care. About then I decided to take a break and work on the tree today. That will be my next task, not an impossible one I hope.

Earlier today Miss Nala kept me busy. She stole the cloth basket from the upstairs bathroom. It was made in Ghana with Ghanaian cloth. She sneaked it into the backyard and was doing zoomies with it in her mouth. I watched. A couple of times, she ran close to me and dropped it, but if I made even the slightest move she was off again. Finally she dropped it, and I grabbed it. Before I left for PT a bit later, I moved enticing decorations into the bathroom and shut the door. When I got home with my groceries, I was putting them away when she tried to steal my Snickers bar. I caught her.

I’ve decided I am the living embodiment of the Black Knight from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. “Tis but a scratch.” I had my uke practice then a concert yesterday. My knife wounds opened so I now carry band-aids everywhere I go.

When I was a kid, I could barely wait for Christmas. Tomorrow was the longest kid day in the year. Nothing could make it go any faster. We took turns opening the Christmas cards which came in the two deliveries. We watched A Christmas Carol. By then it was early afternoon. I don’t even remember if we ate any meals. I’m thinking sugar cookies and candy canes. I liked the way candy canes stuck in my teeth. I used to click my teeth together.

We are expecting a warm day tomorrow, a high of 55°, but we are also expecting thunder showers and a low of 19°. It sounds like a day to stay home. I have a few ornaments to make with cinnamon sticks and oranges and a gingerbread house to put together. I’m thinking it sounds like a fun day.

Today is gray and damp. It is 37° and will only get a few degrees higher. I’d like some sun. I don’t think that is asking too much though I should be glad we are not freezing like much of the country is. I have to go out today. Jack needs treats. The last of them were eaten by the devil incarnate, Nala. The dogs too need treats. I think I do too.

I’m getting my tree. It is the latest I have ever bought a tree. I wasn’t even sure I should put one up, but I have a plan. Glass ornaments on the bottom. Nala is never attracted to glass unless it is slathered with peanut butter or the like. My favorites, the cloth ornaments like Sherlock, Mark Twain and Captain Hook, will go up high. I’m getting a small enough tree so I can put it on the chair in the corner of the living room. My fingers are crossed.

One of the decorations I found yesterday is a stocking which has bones and toys on it, and at the top it says, “Good dog.” It is hanging over Henry’s bowl.

Last night my house was beautiful. All the outside lights were lit. I moved the extension cord from the wet outlet which didn’t work and added it to the plug on the other side of the fence. Inside the house, colored and white lights twinkled. The scrub pine has multi-colored lights. It stands in its usual spot in the corner of the dining room. In front of it is one of my vintage plastic Santas lit by a white bulb inside. On the table is my block Christmas tree, on a lazy Susan. There are rows of children’s blocks, and each row has a Christmas saying. That took me so long to make including the hunt for blocks. My hands were constantly covered in glue, but now the tree is covered in white lights. In the living room, my small pine cone tree on the table also has white lights. Colored lights hang from the mantle. A larger plastic Santa is lit and stands on the hearth. A gourd is lit from inside and the light shines through small holes. On the table sits a lone candle. I sat in the living room last night amid the lights. I was delighted.

Today’s weather is winter, 38°, but the wind makes it feel colder. Luckily, though, I’ll be home all day. I have the sniffles so I’m going to baby myself. I’m too busy for a cold. Maybe I’ll outrun it. I do have a few errands but tomorrow is soon enough though I am a bit disappointed I won’t be getting my tree today.

I brought up some decorations yesterday, three trips from the cellar, but I’ve barely scratched the festive surface. There are bins and more bins to look through. I love finding decorations I haven’t used in a while.

I am my father’s daughter. Yesterday I sliced oranges so I could dry them to make ornaments. I also sliced two fingers. They bled profusely. I used tons of band-aids then went to gauze, and that finally stemmed the flow. This morning I took all the band-aids off both fingers. The finger with the smallest slice started to bleed, but one band-aid was enough. I’ll get the first-aid supplies ready. I have apples to slice.

Nala is wearing a Christmas neckerchief. It is red with decorated trees. I’m hoping Santa Claus will be taken in and not recognize her. Maybe he’ll think she’s on the good list though we know better.

I don’t remember how old I was when I found out about Santa Claus. I just remember not being disappointed or upset. Christmas was still Christmas, and I didn’t have to worry anymore about the naughty list. What a relief that was.

My mother made Christmas an extravaganza. We all helped decorate the house. When we were young, and my parents didn’t have much money, the cards went up and we stenciled the picture window with Santa and trees. The windows facing the street all had orange lights. The tree was beautiful and full every year even if it wasn’t. We decorated cookies and made ornaments. Santa never disappointed.

My mother always put out a set of four small ceramic Santa mugs. Their handles spelled noel. I don’t know what happened to that set, but I found a set just like it in an antique store. I bought it, and I put it out every year just as my mother did.