Yesterday, the snow was melting, and all I could hear was dripping. It was warm, in the mid 40’s. It felt like spring after all the freezing days in a row. My flannel shirt was enough. The dogs stayed out longer. Nala did zoomies. Henry watched. Today should be the same but probably without the zoomies.

Spiders’ webs crisscross the walls. I haven’t ever seen bigger webs in the house. They look like they belong somewhere scary and haunted, a place kids avoid by walking across the street. I have been wandering from room to room dispatching said webs with my long handled duster.

I made food gifts for my friends. My kitchen hasn’t been that busy in a few years. I filled gift bags with my English toffee, home-made vanilla, chocolate chip and peanut butter cookies. I even tucked in one of those John Hancock Christmas Carol books we all remember. I bought them on e-bay.

I can close my eyes and see the living room in the house where I lived the longest growing up. It wasn’t a big living room. One wall was a picture window with smaller windows on each side. The other long wall was where the couch sat. The TV was in the corner of the room. It was in a big cabinet far too big for the small TV. Every Christmas we moved the TV so the tree could sit in that corner. On the wall behind the couch, Christmas cards were displayed on a string which stretched from one side of the wall to the other. A desk was right by the front door. Beside the desk was a closet. My father always hung his top coat there and put his fedora on the shelf. Sometimes we hung more Christmas cards on the wall behind the desk.

At Christmas time, on the shelf of the picture window was always a candolier with five orange bulbs. The windows on each side held a candle, also with an orange bulb. That seemed the popular color. Our stockings were hung on a small bannister near the bottom of the stairs. The living room was the only room decorated for Christmas.

Every morning we’d open the advent calendar. I remember the excitement mounting day to day as we got closer to Christmas. It made us almost giggly.

The morning feels warm at 33°. The sun is bright, and the blue sky is cloudless. The snow is crusty. It crunched under my feet when I made my way to the car. I finally cleared off the car’s windows and roof. Because I have no scraper, I used a dustpan. It worked better than a scraper as it also cleared the chunks of snow I scraped. The car is ready to go.

Yesterday I made a batch of cookies, chocolate chip cookies to give away. I, of course, had to taste them. They were so good I even had a couple for breakfast. Today I’ll make another batch, peanut butter cookies, then I’ll wrap up the gifts for my friends. The counter is filled with all the finished food gifts and the Christmas bags and wrappings. Once the peanut butter cookies are done I’ll wrap everything.

One year when I was in the seventh or eighth grade, I got an outfit for Christmas. It was a skirt, a white sweater and a gold medallion on a thick chain. Right away I tried it on. It fit perfectly. I decided I would wear it to mass, but it was too early to go to church so I went back to bed and didn’t even change. When I woke up, it was still morning dark, and I was already dressed so I knew I could make the first mass of the morning. That was my favorite Christmas morning walk. I saw no cars or other people. The only sound was the clicking of my shoes on the sidewalk. The morning felt solemn. Some houses were well lit while others were still dark. People were sleeping. I guessed they must be old people. The church was dimly lit. Only a few old ladies sat on the pews in front of the side altar. The priest was by himself, no altar boys. The mass was quick. My walk home was in the sunlight.

Another Christmas, when I was in high school, I got the best gift. It was when I was well beyond the toys for Christmas age, the age when I wanted clothes and books and records. I remember the Christmas when I got the best outfit, the one everyone was wearing. I got a pair of stirrup black stretchy pants, ski pants thought I never skied. I got a bright pink angora sweater. It was fluffy. I also got a ski parka with a zippered front pocket. It had a cord hemmed around the bottom. My mother had outdone herself. She had found the perfect gifts. I couldn’t wait to wear my outfit. I wanted everyone to see.