Outside my window every day looks the same. Every day feels the same. Today is cloudy and cold, in the low 30’s . A wind blows the upper branches of the pine trees. Last night we had touch of snow, too little to be even a dusting.

When I go back to my hometown, I ride through the square. I take a trip through my memories. The old buildings are still there, but the shops and stores from my childhood are gone. Stoneham is old. It was settled in 1634 and became Stoneham in 1725.

When the original stores in the square disappeared, they were missed, but after a while, they were forgotten. I have singular memories of each store. The fish market had a peculiar smell even outside on the sidewalk. The cobbler wore a striped apron. He was always bent over a shoe. Poulo’s drug store was small. Mr. Poulo always wore a white coat with buttons, the old Dr. Casey look. I remember he had a mustache. The movie theater is still there but has been reincarnated as a live theater. I have seen plays there. Nobody throws candy anymore. Hank’s Bakery had the smell of fresh bread. I don’t know if the downstairs bowling alley is still there. I always heard the noise of the pins. MiddIesex Drugs was on the corner. It had everything. Kennedy’s beside it had barrels with rounds of cheddar cheese outside by the front windows. The store where you paid electric bills had stoves in the window. The men’s clothing store window had mannequins wearing suits. I could see the salesmen through that window. They too wore suits. My square was the neatest place.

As I get older, I get more nostalgic. My memory drawers open and all those wonderful memories jump into my head. I am ten again.

Let’s see. How do I describe the weather.? Hmmm, this is a tough one. I’m going to say cloudy and damp or was that yesterday or even the day before or the day before that, seemingly endlessly before. Last night I watched the news and weather. The prediction was most of the area would have sun. The only outlier was the cape. The consolation is the temperature is in the low 40’s.

My dance card is empty until Tuesday’s uke practice. I also have a lesson and a concert next week. February is a busy uke month.

When I was a kid, I almost always biked by myself. On Saturdays I’d maneuver my bike out of the cellar and take off down the hill. I seldom had a destination. I just went. Sometimes I’d ride by the golf course and hunt errant golf balls. I’d find some in the gutter and on the lawns across the street. Those first finds of the day went into my bike basket. I’d ride by the lake. Sometimes I was lucky enough to find a duck feather. It went into the basket. I always rode my bike keeping an eye out for treasures.

I have always been a Hostess fan. I thought the cupcakes were like manna from heaven. They had everything, chocolate with chocolate frosting, cream in the middle and a swirl of white on the top. What’s not to love? I also loved Twinkies, Ding Dongs and Sno-balls, both white and pink. My mother would sometimes surprise me with Hostess in my lunch box. I think I yelled amen when I saw them.

My mother used to go crazy when she saw holes in my socks and loose elastic in my ratty underwear, but I didn’t care. Nobody could see them. I still wear socks with holes at the toes. It feels wasteful to toss out socks because of a little hole. I tried sewing a few of the holes, but my sewing skills are mostly limited to buttons so the tip of my socks ended up lumpy, but I still wore them. My underwear is no longer ratty. They are fit for any accident. My mother would be thrilled.