Today is cold. Outside even looks cold with a clear, steely blue sky dotted with white clouds. The breeze borders on a wind. The sunlight is sharp. Leaves are falling. The oak tree by the deck is almost bare. It is 37˚ but feels much colder. I have to venture out today, three stops. I dread the dump stop. With a wind whipping across, it feels like Siberian steppes must feel in the dead of winter. I’ll have to brace myself.

When I was a kid, even on the coldest days, I never wore a hat despite my mother’s demands. I’d take the hat and put it on to satisfy her but then tuck it away when I was out of sight. I did wear mittens, but mittens had a drawback. When covered with snow, they weighed hundreds of pounds.

When I was little, I wore ski pants. They matched my jacket. When I wore them to school, they went under my skirt. The ski pants made noise when I walked, a sort of swishing sound. In the confines of the cloak room, I’d take my shoes off first then the ski pants. They’d hang from a hook underneath my jacket. It took a while to get both of them to stay on that hook though sometimes the clothes on the hooks on each side held them up.

Outside my front door and below the steps was a small grassy hill. A street light shined on the sidewalk. When it snowed, I used to sit at the picture window in our living room and watch the flakes fall. I remember they sometimes fell sideways in the wind. I always hoped the snow would fall all night so in the morning I’d hear the no school whistles blast from the fire station tower. You had to count the whistles to make sure it wasn’t a fire alarm.

When I moved to the cape, I went to public school for the first time, the high school. My mother and I had to shop for school clothes that year because before that I had always worn a uniform. I actually remember my first day of school. I wore a black wraparound skirt and a madras blouse. I stood in the bus port by myself. I didn’t know anybody. My homeroom was the first room on the first floor. I sat in the back hoping not to be noticed. I feared being called the new girl, but I wasn’t.

This morning I kept asking Nala the time and the weather. When I heard nothing, I checked the connection. Still nothing. I was going to disconnect and try again when I realized her name is Alexa.

The morning is dreary but warm. It is supposed to rain all day, light showers. The dogs love being out, even in the rain. Last night Nala stole some candy off the table. I went outside and chased her. I was playing get you, and she was playing keep away. Below the deck is light from the spotlights but beyond is dark. I fell into a hole. Luckily, there was no sharpened bamboo. It was a Nala hole covered by leaves. I had run outside in a t-shirt and my slippers so after fifteen minutes I was so cold I gave up the game. I think Nala was disappointed.

My kitchen floor has a new layer of paw prints. Archaeologists would start stratigraphy and map each layer and check for artifacts. I was glad I didn’t wash it yesterday.

I got my booster on Wednesday. It only hurts when I touch it!

Dinner was delicious yesterday. I filled the air with a chorus of yums. I have leftovers, enough for lunch. I even have more apple crisp. What I don’t have is the toffee. Nala stole it.

When I was a kid, Friday suppers after Thanksgiving were open turkey sandwiches on toast and covered in gravy. Stuffing was on the side. I loved those sandwiches. The white bread was soft and absorbed the gravy. The stuffing was even better reheated. For dessert, I had lemon meringue pie.

I find myself yelling at odd plot details in movies. I’m watching Behemoth. The title gives the plot away. One of the characters, a teenage girl, refused to leave the restaurant where she worked until she’d saved the money in the register. The restaurant fell into a sink hole. She hasn’t stopped screaming. I keep telling her it is her own fault (which is a wonderful description given the earthquakes). The behemoth just rose from the mountains. Our hero is on it. His companion is screaming.

Spiders and snakes have never scared me even after I saw The Fly. The ending of that movie is still etched in my memory drawers. The fly with the human head is caught in a web with a spider advancing. He? It? was yelling, “Help me. Help me.” Someone did and smashed both the spider and the fly with a rock.