The rain started around three, and it is still raining. The high today will be 41° so no freezing. Tomorrow will be both rain and snow. We have had such ugly weather.

Henry pulled a Nala last night. I had two sausages from the butcher shop. When I was putting them in the pan on the stove, Henry grabbed one from my hand. I was shocked but not too shock to yell. I didn’t realize he had dropped it until I stepped on it and squished it a bit, but the five second rule was in effect so I picked it up and washed it. The sausage was none the worse for wear and was quite delicious.

When I was a kid, we played games, mostly on Friday nights. My parents also played with us. We played board games and card games. I remember Go to the Head of the Class, but I remember Sorry the most. It was a wonderfully vicious game. Retribution was part of each move. I still have that original Sorry game.

I learned all sorts of card games from my father. Our favorite was cribbage. He was a fanatic. He hated to lose. I remember as an adult sitting at the kitchen table playing until he won.

Starting when I was young, we played whist. My father and brother were partners as were my mother and I. We won all the time. My brother used to beg to change partners. We never did. Whist was also the big card game at my college, but it was kitty whist. My father scoffed. We played Casino, Fan Tan and Gin.

Even when I was an adult we still played cards at the kitchen table. My Uncle Jack used to come as did my Aunt Mary. The bar was set up on the counter. The room was filled with smoke. Even in winter we kept the back door open. High Low Jack aka Pitch was the big game. My father was a mad man if he didn’t make his bid. All of us had a single purpose, trump my dad. Those nights were such fun.

Today is cloudy but warm. The rain will be back tomorrow. With all this rain, I’m beginning to feel like a character in Ray Bradbury’s All Summer in a Day, a short story which takes place on Venus where the sun appears for only an hour every seven years.

I remember when I got my first transistor radio. It was a Christmas present. The radio was big and square and made of leather, brown leather, with decorative holes in the front. It had a dial on the side for channel changing. On the other side was the on and off dial. We only got AM radio in those days, but we had so many choices. Up and down the dial were channels playing rock, 50’s rock. I loved that radio.

My bicycle would sometimes slip the chain. I’d have to turn the bike upside down and try to get the chain back on the sprockets. It was frustrating and took time. It was also dirty. My hands got greasy.

When I think back, I am amazed at what I ate when I was a kid. I’ve mentioned the sardines. Now, they gross me out sitting there headless side by side in the oval can. Many times for lunch I had Chef Boy-Ar-Dee spaghetti. I remember the picture of the chef on the can. He had a mustache and wore a puffy white chef’s hat. He sort of looked Italian to me, the closest his spaghetti ever got to Italy. When I was in Ghana, my mother sent me a few boxes of Chef-Boy-Ar-Dee’s pizza kits. I savored those. Wonder bread was always white and soft. It was the only bread we ate. I remember the big red Wonder on the package. I also remember it was Howdy Doody’s favorite bread. It made great toast. Creamed corn does taste good, but you have get by its looks. It used to spread across the plate and contaminate my potatoes. I can’t remember the last time I ate it except in corn bread.

My dance card is empty until Tuesday’s uke practice.