The morning is downright cold, only 32˚. The sun is just decorative but framed by a deep blue sky. Every now and then the wind blows. The dead leaves left on the trees blow sideways. The tree branches sway in the wind. The sharp, cold sunlight slices through the branches. The dogs are loving this weather. They have been out most of the morning. Nala, the thief, took some stuff from my bedroom into the yard, a new pair of socks and a phone I bought in Ghana. I saved both of them. My sister suggested I hide everything which might attract Nala’s slippery paws, but that would mean clearing my house and leaving only heavy furniture as there is no guessing what she’ll steal next.

I have to venture out today. I need more needles for Gwen’s insulin, and tonight is uke practice. It is a bundle up day.

When I was a kid, every day was pretty much the same, but I don’t remember ever being bored. The walk to school was different in every season. My favorite time was the spring when we could put away our heavy coats for light jackets. The morning air had a sweetness about it. In the fall I’d look for the prettiest leaves and carefully put them in my school bag. They would later be enshrined forever in wax paper. I’d shuffled my feet through the leaves on the sidewalks and kick the piles. The leaves almost jumped into the air. I remember mostly yellow leaves. The winter was my least favorite season. Even bundled up, I’d feel the cold especially when the wind whipped across the field below my street. Getting ready in the morning took the longest time. I had to get into my uniform and my warm socks. Next came my ski pants and a buttoned up sweater then my winter coat. My mother helped me put the coat on as I had to hold the cuffs of my sweater so they wouldn’t slide up the sleeve. Finally came my shoes or boots, whatever the day demanded. I’d shove my mittens in my pockets, but I’d pull them out if my fingers got cold. Winter was the bulky season.

I have a winter jacket I don’t wear. If it is only cold, I wear a hoodie. If it is freezing cold, I wear my heavy sweater, a bulky sweater. You can’t ever escape the bulky season.

The sky is still cloudy. The sun right now is taking a break, but it is warm at 44˚. Tonight will be a snuggle under the comforter night as it will get to the 20’s. I am declaring today a sloth day. Yesterday I washed the kitchen floor. Anything is better than laundry which still sits upstairs with the heap getting taller. Last night it rained. The paw prints are back.

After Thanksgiving, it was time to start Christmas. We checked the mail every day waiting for the Sears catalog. I remember the pages were brightly colored, but it was only the toy pages we cared about. Decisions were never made lightly and were seldom permanent. I’d circle what I wanted but keep looking until something else caught my eye and then I’d circle that. I’d put a K inside my circles. I didn’t want my choices to go to someone else. When I was little, dolls and their wardrobes and furniture were within most of my circles. As I got older, dolls were off the list. I wanted games and books and maybe a sled or new ice skates. I remember the year I got a Sorry game. It was front and center under the tree. Sorry is a forever game.

We had two closets in the living room. One was right by the door, and the coats were stored there. Between the living room and kitchen was a small space within an arch. On the left was the door to the cellar. On the right was another closet. It mostly held cleaning supplies. I remember one year I was getting a broom when I noticed a few brown bags on the top shelf. I had to investigate. Inside were three books, all part of a series. I knew they were for me. I read two of them. I just couldn’t help myself. I think I practiced being surprised so my mother would never know I’d read them. She never did find out, but that never happened again. I love surprises.

Catalogues have taken over. Sears is no longer. I get catalogues every day. They fill my mailbox, but I go through them all, each a Sears in its own right. I look for just the right gifts for friends and family. I circle my choices and put names inside the circles. Christmas habits are hard to break.