I am a prisoner to the cold. We are at 24°, the high for the day. I choose to stay home and keep warm. I just ordered a grocery delivery. I even ordered some goodies, some Snickers. The old buy 2 get 2 free hooked me. I think putting the groceries away will be my only exertion for the day as I’m thinking I can’t count turning the pages of my book. I am a sloth and proud to be one.

When I was a kid, there wasn’t really much to do all winter. On the cold, snowy days we could sled or skate until the cold got to us. Sometimes it was a bicycle day but not on the days I had to bundle to keep the cold at bay. I remember one Christmas Eve when my mother sent me to the corner store for bread or milk. I don’t remember which. I just remember I rode my bicycle. First, I had to wrestle it out of the cellar then turn it so I could pull it up the stairs. After that I was free to ride down the grassy hill, a route forbidden by my father, then ride down a couple of streets to the store. I was not a fan of that errand. It was Christmas Eve, not a day for ordinary yet there I was on my bike buying bread, the most ordinary of errands.

Getting to the big day was filled with fun, growing anticipation, lights, and trees lit inside and outside, Advent calendars and Santa and a constantly updated list of what I wanted for Christmas. When we had disagreements as to whose turn it was for the Sears Catalogue, my mother intervened. I think she gave us deli numbers.

Christmas Eve was so exciting it took a while to fall asleep. Christmas morning was a whirl. We had breakfast, opened presents, and I remember showing my mother what Santa had left for me, and she oohed and ah-ahed. We went to my grandparents. The whole day was filled. I was exhausted and fell asleep early.

The wonderful feelings hung around. I loved my presents. I had a variety, enough to make the gifts interesting and even some fun. I did hate when it was time to put Christmas away.

I do less for Christmas now though I like it more. I pick and choose among all my favorites as to what my house will look like. Maybe it will be winter or all my plastic Santas or my Putz houses, my uglies. I do love my uglies, those Putz houses and churches. I also have many snowmen. Other than the Santas, and, if need be my tree, the house decorations seldom come down and are fitting through the whole winter. I still get enjoyment from lights on garlands of mistletoe and pine and draped across the fire screen to the giant basket from Africa where they end in a circle. Other nooks you might have missed get small strings of colored lights. I don’t have to put the feelings of Christmas and the lights of winter away until it is time to put all of winter away. By then I’m ready.

Happy New Year!

It is a pretty day. I woke up to a couple of inches of snow. It was cloudy then, but the sun has taken over the blue sky and chased away the clouds at least for the meantime. It is 24°, an uninviting temperature. It is also the high for the day. I’ll be quite content to stay home and watch the day pass through the windows.

I won’t clear off my car because of the cold and because I have no interest in clearing it. I have no obligations, no appointments until Tuesday. I hope by then or even sooner I’ll have the energy to attack the car. I know I’ll have no choice.

I live with 3 pets, two dogs and a cat. The dogs had a rocky start and some scary fights. I got more injured than they though Nala had a drain and the cone of shame. They have not fought for a long time. Henry will growl at Nala every now and then as a comment on her unacceptable behavior, and she knows enough to stop. They sleep beside each other and Henry often rests his head on her stomach. She just sleeps.

Henry is my protector. He growls and barks at anything he sees or imagines as dangerous or needing warning to keep away. If it is a frantic bark, Nala will join him.

When I was a kid, our boxer Duke was fiercely protective of the four of us kids. Even if we were playing with my dad, Duke would put his mouth around my dad’s wrist and just leave it there until he unhanded us. I remember once during a storm Duke barked fiercely, scarily. We opened the inside door and saw a guy walking in the rain and the wind. If we hadn’t held Duke, he might have gone through the screen at the guy and started barking at him and scaring him. We knew Duke wouldn’t hurt the guy but that guy didn’t know. It was easiest to hold him and shut the door.

My dad always said not to stop my dogs from barking. He called them my DEW line. I should thank and compliment them he told me. My father never heard Henry. He was never confronted with a dog who sounds ready to tear you apart. But Henry is mouth, a constant mouth sometimes. He is standoffish with company in the house. He’ll even get friendly. Nala is always friendly. I get to a breaking point and physically quiet Henry by patting him and distracting him. It always works. But he can still drive me crazy.

I have no expectations for the new year. The possible outcomes, short and long, seem to be still maybes. I’ll never understand that. The damage so far has been widespread, targeted. It has to stop. I would love some hope.