When I woke up, the first thing I did was to look out the window to see how much snow we had gotten. None. The snow started around ten. It was a nor’easter blowing sideways and falling steadily, but it was a wet snow which has since turned into rain. I just hope it doesn’t freeze.

The wind will get tremendous with gusts up to 60 MPH. Right now it is calm. Only a few hanging brown leaves are fluttering.

I was going to take a Coffee break today. Staying inside makes for poor conversation. Jack and Henry have slept the morning away. I envy them. I wander from the den to the kitchen to the living room and sleeve dust as I go. Nothing holds my interest. Today I’m thinking I’ll clean out the fridge. Obviously I’ve gone over the edge. I’ve gone stir crazy.

Yesterday I made Sunday dinner for myself. I seasoned and baked the spatchcock chicken and added sweet potatoes to the oven with the chicken. I steamed pea pods. Dinner was delicious. It will be delicious again tonight and maybe even tomorrow night. What’s left will become chicken salad. Dinner becomes lunch.

When I was a kid and always after that, math was difficult for me. Arithmetic was easy just a bit of add, subtract, multiply and divide. I used to hide my fingers under my desk so I could use them. Once I started algebra I had nightmares of murderous polynomials chasing me. X was a scary unknown. Now, I’m back to arithmetic. I mostly add and subtract and don’t need my fingers any more. I haven’t ever used algebra.

Yesterday is today. Trust me here. I am not being metaphysical. I’m just talking about the weather. It is cold and cloudy, and I saw a couple of snow flurries earlier, loners I hope.

Winter is entrenched. Any 40˚ day feels tropical. Where did I put the sun screen just in case?

The last time I did any errands was over a week ago. Everything I need gets pretty much delivered now. Henry loves it. He barks and scares people. I don’t love it so much.

According to my electric company, I use more wattage than my neighbors. At first I cared, but after careful consideration, I stopped caring. Besides the den, the only other lights on at night are one in the living room and one over the sink in the kitchen. Here in the den it is a lamp, the TV and my computer. That doesn’t seem excessive. I figure I over-watt, to coin a word, because I am up until the wee hours burning electricity while the houses around me are dark and filled with sleeping people.

When I was in Ghana, Sunday meant a service at the school with hymns and a sermon. It was held in the dining hall from which the tables had been removed. When I first met the principal, she wanted to know if I had brought my bible with me. I told her I hadn’t, but I had parts of it memorized. One Sunday I was the sermon giver instead of the white father, the imam or the pastor of a local church. I still wonder why I said yes. Well, I planned my sermon and went with the unexpected. I spoke of fables. I spoke of the ant, a fire ant in this case to keep it local, and the grasshopper, my father’s favorite tale, and the tortoise and the hare. I wove amazing links between the fables and God. Heads turned. Mouths opened in awe. I swear I heard the choir of heavenly angels. The principal was so taken with my sermon she never asked me again. My guess was she thought I couldn’t top my last sermon. Little did she know there was always Henny Penny. I was ready just in case.