The morning is rainy. I can smell the dead wet leaves on the ground. It will rain on and off all day though the sun will peek through every now and then. The sky is a light grey. I can see the oak tree branches in the back yard being tossed by the wind. The temperature is in the low 60’s where it will sit all day. Tonight, though, will be more seasonal, in the 30’s.

Fall and winter rain make for dreary days, perfect for comfy clothes and a good book. The dogs, who appreciate cozy, are asleep on the couch. Nala is resting her head on my hip. I can feel her warmth.

When I was a kid, my grammar school was old. It was a brick building across from the convent and beside the rectory. Out front there was a big statue of an angel with a child. The first floor was up a set of stairs. Outside each classroom was the cloak room. There were never enough hooks for all our coats as each classroom had large classes. My first grade had over forty kids. The desks were the sort where you didn’t lift the top. Your books were in the desk, below the stationary top. You had to bend over to find the right book. The top had a groove for my pencils and a hole for an ink bottle. It was an old desk. I remember it was dark wood. The bathrooms were downstairs in the cellar.

I don’t like bulky winter coats despite the coldest weather. I have a couple, but I don’t think I wore one all last winter. I wore a hoodie and once in a while added a vest, my interpretation of layering. I have boots but not rubber boots. One pair is ankle high leather boots from Timberland. The other pair is waterproof outside and fleece inside but also ankle height. I always hope for a light snowstorm.

I think my aversion to bulky coats was because of my childhood. My mother made sure I was dressed for the Arctic. I wore a sweater under a heavy winter coat. I wore pink longish thermal underwear which went to just above my knees. My knee socks went to just below my knees. Neither of them met in the middle. I wore boots over my shoes. I always had to wear a hat and mittens though I often ditched the hat when I was out of sight.

This week my dance card is filled with uke: tonight’s practice, a lesson and concert tomorrow and a concert on Thursday. My fingers will get a workout.

The morning is windy, raw and cloudy. Sun is only a possibility. The high will be 49°. Today is an inside day. I’ll be an observer looking at the world through my den window.

When I was in the first few years of grammar school, the nuns used to pass out coloring book pages with holiday designs. We’d pull out our crayons and spend an intense afternoon coloring. I remember the turkey. The big part to color was the tail. Not ever having seen a real turkey, I multi-colored the tail feathers. I think the NBC peacock and my turkey were related. My mother always gushed at my masterpiece. She was quite believable. It was refrigerator art.

Thanksgiving is sandwiched between the two big days, Halloween and Christmas. I never counted the days until Thanksgiving. There was nothing surprising about it. My mother was always up really early, like 5 or 6 ish to stuff the turkey and get it in the oven. My sisters and I still wonder why she needed to be up that early. We watched the parade and munched on M&M’s, tangerines and mixed nuts in the shell. The bowl for the nuts was wooden and had silver picks in holes around the edge. The crackers too were silver. I actually found and bought an old bowl just like it. I fill it with mixed nuts more as a decoration and a memory.

When I think back to those Thanksgivings, images jump into my head. I can see my father carving the turkey. He always started with the legs. We had paper turkey napkins and a paper tablecloth with cornucopias. I always thought the table looked special, festive. There was a huge bowl of mashed potatoes and the gravy was in a boat. The boat name made perfect sense to me. It really did have the body of a canoe but one with a spout. Dinner was always around two.

The pies were on the kitchen table. One was always lemon meringue. That was my favorite. My father was an apple pie with cheese fan. I preferred custard pie over pumpkin.

My dance card this week is uke loaded. I have the usual Tuesday night practice and Wednesday morning lesson. There are two concerts. Wednesday is Hyannis and Thursday is Brewster. I’ll have to keep my fingers limber!