“See the dancing snowflakes. Practicing for the snowball, I suppose”—
Posted January 23, 2026 by katryCategories: Musings
Today is a dull, winter’s day with a muted sun, clouds and only a few spots of blue. It is in the mid-30’s. The deep Arctic front starts this evening when it will get down to single digits, think 7° as the high. Monday will be the warmest day, says I with tongue in cheek, at 37° with a nighttime high of 18°. I did mean high!
Snow is coming, not just cover the ground snow, but historic snow, enough snow for constant weather warnings and updates. It seems the exact amount of snow changes with the hour. It starts Sunday and will continue through Monday. The cape is predicted to get 6-12 inches but the snow could mix with rain here by the ocean. Boston wins the predicted amount of snow crown, 12-20 possible. I’ve been channel hopping, looking around hoping to find the weather site with the least amount of predicted snow. Maybe hoping will make it so. I can live deluded for one snow storm.
I can predict my future. I know for certain what the next few days will be for me. After today, I will stay home, warm and cozy. I’ll start a new book as I just finished the latest Robin Cook, a Christmas present. I’ll loll on the couch. I’ll eat bon bons and sip champagne. ( Make that last one a wish, the bon bons and champagne.)
My sister and brother-in-law Rod surprised me yesterday. They have been surprising me for a while. When I ran out of coffee, they sent me a large bag, 18 ounces large, of coffee. When my coffee maker developed a mind of its own as to whether or not it wanted to work, they sent me a new coffee maker. Yesterday was a package from Harry and David with chocolate, cheese and sausages. I’m calling that the start of my snow preparation kit.
My family and friends have taken care of me this winter. Thank you, all of you.
I am going to make a quick trip to the grocery store. I can think of no better way to spend my time than fighting crowds at the milk aisle. I need animal food, mostly dry dog food. I didn’t buy a big enough bag on Sunday. Jack, too, would like a bigger variety of canned food. He didn’t eat the prix fixe menu of fish he was offered the last couple of days. He ate the bowl of treats both days. Jack knows the way of the world.
When I was a kid, I would have been positively elated, even giddy, at the thought of this much snow. No question, Monday will be a snow day, and Tuesday too looks likely. My mother must have been beside herself.
“The sky is falling. The sky is falling.”
Posted January 22, 2026 by katryCategories: Musings
Tags: books, family, fiction, life, writing
Today is a gift from Mother Nature. She is feeling guilty about the snow storm coming on Sunday. The last update predicted 9 inches of snow. I’m going to move my car to the drive-way. I’ll back the car in so the plowed snow pile will be in front of the car, not surrounding it. I was able to clear the windshield of ice in time for the snow to cover it again. I’m living in a winter loop.
It is 46°. The snow and ice are melting. I can hear the drops. The sun is behind clouds but bright enough to light the sky. It’s a pretty day, clouds and all.
When I was a kid, I loved to read. It all started when my mother read me Golden Books. She told me she used to ask me the names of all the animals and people around the back cover, and I knew them all. I knew some words in the book only because of repetition, the number of times I had my mother read me my favorite Golden Book, Henny Penny, I used to sit beside her on the couch following every word. I still have a copy of the Golden Book, a newer one. It was in my stocking. My mother remembered.
I read the Henny Penny. It had been years. I love all the rhyming names of the animals. When I was little, I used to giggle when my mother would recite them to me. Even now I smile at Goosey Loosey, Turkey Lurkey and the rest. I admit to being a bit horrified at the ending. I have a great memory. When I was eleven, I found it sort of lurking in my head. I remembered pieces of pages and book facts though hardly trying. I did well in school. Most of all, I learned how to save memories. I filled memory drawers with so many pictures. They still often pop into my head and send me a memory. Where am I going, you might ask. Well, I had no memory of the ending of Henny Penny, aka Chicken Little. I knew the beginning and the middle, but I had blacked out the ending. Then I read it. Foxy Loxy (Spoiler here: if you haven’t read the story, do that first) ate them all. My mouth dropped. That was totally new to me I thought. I had no memory of their fates. I just figured they made it to the king. I was horrified. I really had enjoyed those characters. Now I wonder why it was popular. Is there some sort of moral I am missing? Is the fox just the fox? I’m just gobsmacked.
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