Last night was downright cold. My car was covered in frost this morning. I gave thanks that I no longer have to scrape windows before work. The morning is already getting warmer. We are up to 42°. We’re having a heat wave. Where’s my Hawaiian shirt?

My dance card is filled with uke this week. Tonight is our Christmas party, Tuesday is practice, Wednesday my lesson followed by an afternoon concert and on Thursday and Friday more concerts. My house is nearly bare of decorations. I need to find time in between my uke events to Christmas my house. I’m starting today.

I’m the mouse in the maze, sort of. I set the trap yesterday morning. When I checked later, the peanut butter was gone and so was the mouse. I figured he was sitting in the cabinet full and happy. Being an eternal optimist, I refilled the trap. This morning, the sassy rodent had struck again. The peanut butter was gone. I made a couple of adjustments in the trap and reset it. I want that mouse. He’s mine.

Winter was inevitable. Even as a kid I knew that. It was the season of bundling. It was walking to school in the cold mornings and seeing my breath, my sort of personal winter, sort of icy, fog. The walk to school in winter was quiet. My friend and I whispered without even realizing. Frost covered parked car windows. Houses still had their lights on to counter the winter morning darkness. I remember how happy I was to get to school, to the warm building.

During my first year in Ghana, I was dreading Christmas, my first Christmas ever away from home. Nothing was familiar. Fir trees didn’t grow. Houses and streets weren’t decorated with lights. I heard no greetings of Merry Christmas. It was the harmattan, hot, dry days and cooler nights, no hopes of a white Christmas. I didn’t write home about what I was feeling, but I think my mother knew. She sent me a box of Christmas spirit. She and my aunt paid the postage to send it airmail, a not so small fortune. In the box was a fir tree, not tall but perfect regardless, decorations for it, some from the family tree, brick crepe paper to make a sort of fireplace, a small Christmas stocking, Christmas cookie cutters and sprinkles. In that box, I found Christmas. I could see it, but most of all, I could feel it.