Flurries fell last night. The walk and some steps are again hidden under snow, light snow. Given his slide on the stairs yesterday, Henry was dubious about going out, but he checked, saw the stairs were down to wood from the deicer I threw out earlier and decided to give it a try. He gingerly walked down into the yard but ran back up the stairs to get out of the cold.

The cold is hanging around, but there is no wind. Everything is still. I am venturing out into the big world and doing a couple of errands. No, the dump is not one of them. It is too cold.

When I was a kid, weather never mattered. We had to walk to and from school anyway. We had only one car, and my father drove it to work every day. Besides, my mother didn’t learn to drive until we moved to the Cape. I remember the winter walks to school especially on windy days. I froze to my bones.

Shoes have never really had much importance to me. When I was a kid, I had my school shoes and my play shoes. When I worked, I had clogs, comfortable shoes, because of all the walking I did in the halls and cafeteria. Since my retirement, I have winnowed my pairs of shoes. Now I have sandals for summer and a pair of tie shoes for winter though I often stay in my slippers, my clog slippers, when I go out.

I have signed up for breakfast with a sloth. The Stone Zoo, my hometown zoo, offers breakfasts with a variety of animals in Zoom sessions. My sister too has signed up for the sloth. We’ll get to see each other.

My friend Bill keeps track of the weather in Bolga, and I check every few days. Today it is 102˚. This is still the harmattan so the days are dry and hot, but the nights are chilly in comparison. It will get down to 70˚ tonight. This was my favorite time of year. I loved feeling cold and snuggling under my wool blanket.

I’ve been watching Terra Nova, a single season SciFi series from 2011. The plot is easy: people from a polluted Earth are transported to Earth during the age of dinosaurs. They fight the dinosaurs and other people but that’s a longer story. Anyway, I’m mentioning this because I noticed a Bolga basket on the table in one of the houses. Any time, any place is perfect for a Bolga basket.

Today is an ugly day. The sun is elsewhere, the sky is gray, and it is quite cold. I trekked over frozen snow this morning to get my papers and yesterday’s mail. My car is still snowed in as Skip, my factotum, hasn’t come yet, something about his plow. That doesn’t matter so much as I probably wouldn’t go out anyway though I do need to go to the post office.

I checked in on CNN and MSNBC this morning. The former president’s lawyers’ brief was under discussion. It seems that United as in United States is misspelled, and President Biden is referred to as former Vice President Biden. It goes on and on.

When I was a kid, a lot of snow meant a no school day which is kind of funny because we were outside in the snow as soon as we finished breakfast. We sledded, had snowball fights and built snow forts. It took my sisters a while longer to get ready for the cold and the snow as my mother helped dress them. Think of Randy from A Christmas Story, in snowsuits, hats, boots and mittens. I remember my mother reaching up into their jacket sleeves to pull their cuffs down. They didn’t know to hold them. That comes with getting older.

Henry has been out a few times. The de-icer worked on the deck steps. I can see wood in some spots. Last night poor Henry was too afraid to go up or down those steps. His back legs had slipped a couple of times. I would have walked beside him if he hadn’t decided to give the steps a go. This morning he raced up and down.

I like celery in salads like chicken because of the crunch, but that’s it. I find celery a waste of time and energy with all the chewing with little return. I do eat ants on a raft which is celery slathered with peanut butter in the trough with raisins on top. I figure the peanut butter raises celery to a new level, one with taste. I found out it is also called ladybugs on a raft. That’s new to me.

Every day I eat. What I eat is what I scavenge. My fridge and larder are filled, but I’d have to cook, and I am far too much a sloth to bother. Cheese and crackers are big as is hummus. I’m trying a new one: pineapple turmeric. I’ve loved hummus since the first time I tasted it in Accra at Talal’s, a hot spot for volunteers. It was served spread on a plate with what I think was peanut or sesame oil in the middle and a ring of cayenne around the top of the hummus. The pita bread was so soft and fresh and bigger than most. My favorite hummus currently is made by a company called Hope. I love their original and have become addicted to their spicy carrot hummus.

It has started snowing. The forecast is for snow and rain. Please, please Mother Nature or Father Winter bring on the rain.