The snow flurries continue as does the cold. My walkway and car are covered again, but I am going nowhere so the car can stay covered for a bit. Maybe this afternoon I’ll get up enough energy to care to clear the car when I go to get my mail.

Just a little bit ago I let Henry inside. He is still using the dog door only one way, out. When I opened the door, I surveyed my little world. I cheered to see some patches of blue.

I do have a plan for the day. Yesterday six plastic bins were delivered. They are upstairs as I bought them to store the Christmas presents I buy all year. Last Christmas was a horror of bags and boxes, and it took me a while to divide the presents into piles, into what belongs to whom. Part 2 of the plan is to clean underneath the sink upstairs. It is a jumbled mess. It is a spot I put things into, but I never seem to take anything out of the cabinet. I hate cleaning, but I do like weird cleaning, weird places which seldom see the light of day. Maybe that should be a list.

The snow does look lovely on the tops of branches and in the back yard. Henry has ventured but not far, not to the back of the yard yet. I can see his route in paw prints. He seems to like the snow. Henry has a coat I bought the first winter he was here. It is a blue plaid, but Henry has yet to wear it. He is never out long enough to need a coat.

When I was a kid, this would have been the perfect Saturday. I’d have dragged my sled from the cellar and ridden it all day long. My house was on a hill, a long hill, almost to the top. We’d pull our sleds to the top, hold them in our hands, run with them then we’d throw our sleds to the ground and jump on them stomach first when they hit the ground. We’d pick up speed just about where my house was and ride all the way down to the cross street. You could hear us scream in delight because nothing is better than sledding down a tall hill fast and furiously and pretty much out of control.

During the night, we got another inch of snow. Even now there are flurries. It is cold, 34˚. The best part, well, the only good part of today’s weather, is no wind. It would feel so much colder with a blowing wind.

The snow flakes are gentle. They seem to float to the ground. Sometimes the flakes come from the north. Other times they fall straight down. Henry ran right down to the yard when I opened the door. The new snow didn’t bother him at all. I threw some deicer on the steps just in case.

Today I have no errands. I don’t even have any sort of a list. I have plenty of food. I have books to read. I have movies to watch. I have naps to take. It could be a full day.

I’m glad there was no velcro when I was a kid because I had to learn to tie a bow with my shoe laces and to connect the two sides of my jacket’s zipper so I could zip up my coat. My mother used to go crazy when I left my jacket open rather than wrestle with my zipper when I walked home from school. Zipper lessons soon followed.

Buttons weren’t easy. Sometimes my fingers didn’t work, and the buttons wouldn’t go into their holes. Finishing all the buttons took time so often I’d just button one at the top and another at the bottom.

I learned analog time when I seven. The hands took a little while to learn because the same time went by many names: 15 minutes past the hour was quarter past the hour and 45 minutes before the hour. I have never bought a digital watch. All of mine are analog. I like the moving hands.

When I was a kid, if we lost electricity, we used candles and maybe one flashlight to light the house. The flashlight was used when we went up the stairs to the bathroom or to bed. I remember sitting in the living room and watching the flame flicker. We’d wet our fingers and run them through the flame. It never hurt. We felt like we had super powers. My mother didn’t. She always told us to stop.