Today is yesterday. I am not being metaphysical here. I’m talking about the weather and the ever present clouds, but today there is a tiny difference. The air feels warm. It will be in the 40’s today and the next few days. Rain is predicted for this afternoon, and, what a surprise, clouds are predicted for tomorrow.

My dance card is empty today except I have an hourlong session of strumming and uke playing tonight. Last time there were 8 or 10 of us playing St. Patrick’s Day songs on Zoom. I enjoyed the evening. I expect I will again.

My house is clean, but, nevertheless, I always see clumps of cat hair lying on the floor or swirling in the air when I walk, especially upstairs. Gwen doesn’t come downstairs, but she is quite active upstairs. I can hear her walking and jumping, and I do find balls of hair on the stairs, in my room and in the bathroom.

When I was a kid, we always had a dog, mostly Duke, our boxer. When I was in high school, we got a cat. Duke loved the cat. My father didn’t. He told us the cat had to go before he came home on Friday. Back then he was only home on weekends because he was working in Presque Isle, Maine, our next destination. Well, that cat loved my father from their first meeting, and the cat was going nowhere. He was home. Gideon used to ride in the car with my dad and would lie behind him on the seat top. Once, Gid gently bit my father in the nose while my father was driving. It was pretty funny, even my father thought so.

I have to fill the bird and suet feeders. Skip was here yesterday and shoveled a path across the deck to them. That is my entire task list though I am toying with making my bed. The dreaded laundry is tomorrow.

Christer has sent the recipe for rhubarb cream and rhubarb soup. They were his grandmother’s recipes. I know one of my Coffee regulars has asked for the recipes, but I have an incorrect e-mail. Would my rhubarb fan please send another e-mail?

I don’t often dedicate all the songs of any day on Coffee to one singer, but Joan Baez has, since I first found folk music, been one of my favorites. I still have some old vinyl from the beginning. Joan Baez is 80 today!!

I loved this. I knew just about every actor. It made me smile how emotive most of them were. This poem is an American view of Santa but the British do it justice.

Yesterday was freezing, and I had a busy day. The post office was first. I went to mail the packages which should have gone out with the rest of them on Monday, but I had left in my trunk. Priority mail won’t make it by Christmas the clerk told me. I asked how I could have a guarantee. He said pay $100.00, and everyone behind me in line laughed. I didn’t pay. The other two stops were medical; well, one was dental. They found a tooth which needs a crown.

Around nine last night the snow started. It came whipping down sideways from the north. I know that because when I ran across the street to get my mail, my face got pelted. I put up my hood. My face still got pelted. The car had a snow layer which looked icy. I was careful.

When I woke up this morning, I could hear the rain. What snow there is looks ugly, pitted. When I went to get the papers, I left footprints in the slush, and the bottoms of my flannel pants got wet. The streets have two tire tracks filled with slush. It is an ugly day. The rain will turn into snow later, but the amount is iffy. The paper had this description of today’s weather, ” Windy with wet snot at times.”

I have housekeeping chores today. There is a pile of boxes to be put into the car and one trash bag for the trunk. I hate the clutter. Two packages came today. I found the first wrapped in plastic on the steps. I could see the slushy footprints of the delivery man. Henry alerted me to the second delivery. There was a package from Target on my steps delivered by a regular driver in a regular car who waved: it was sort of odd. One box has a gift for my sister. I’ll just readdress the box and sent it along. The other has a Christmas vinyl tablecloth with the best colors and wonderful designs of Santas, trees and stockings. It is a just in case keeper. I also bought some socks.

Today is dark so the living room is night time lit. The tree is on as are candles around the room. On the hearth is a winter scene, a birthday gift this past year. It nicely lights up that side of the fireplace. My painted gourd is lit as are a wooden star and twigs with lights among pussy willows. The low light in the room, the quietness of it all, gives me a sense off comfort. I like to sit there in the living room. Jack likes to sleep on the anti-scratch chair cover, there because of him, a bit of irony. Henry sleeps on the rug. He knows to stay off the living room couch.

I’ve been playing Christmas albums on my record player. I love the sound, scratches and all. Do I need to mention the album my classmates and I made with Guy Lombardo and the Royal Canadiens? I played that album first. The one early note in Winter Wonderland is my celebrity moment.

Okay, not crazy or odd but it’s Perry. You have to have Perry Como at Christmas.