My mornings are quiet. I have my ritual. I read each paper and take my time. I have two cups of coffee. I share each cup with Henry. He gets about a teaspoon full in his own cup. Jack often disturbs my morning ritual by lying on my newspaper. That drives me crazy, but I don’t move Jack. I just put the paper on top of him. He sleeps.

When I was a little kid, my friends were all from the neighborhood. We were together every day walking to and from school. We played together, but we never rode bikes together. My friend didn’t have a bike because she didn’t want one. My pedaled explorations were by myself.

I remember the most glorious bike moments were when I was riding downhill propelled by the incline with the wind whistling around me. My bike sped all the way down the hill without my pedaling. I’d only hit the brakes before I reached the busy crossroads. I remember my back wheel sliding on the sand when I used my brakes. I used to do that on purpose, sand sliding. It made me feel like a trick rider.

My first grocery order arrived yesterday. It came in three bags. It was mostly dairy and produce with a few boxes of crackers, a small bag of potato chips, sea salt flavor, and tortilla chips. My second grocery order will be here tomorrow. It will have more produce, some beef and a few snacks, maybe more than a few. I’ve been missing snacks.

Every now and then I want salt. I don’t use salt on my food except on French fries and sometimes onion rings because salt tends to become the taste. The food disappears. My occasional need for salt gives me a chuckle and takes me back to the first TV episode of Star Trek and the character Nancy. I have never forgotten the shapeshifter’s name, the character who sucked all the salt out of the doomed crew member. Yesterday I was Nancy. I ate the bag of sea salt chips in one sitting. My lips tingled but I didn’t need salt anymore.

My dance card is mostly empty for the whole rest of the week except for an hour tomorrow morning, my weekly uke lesson. My singing voice is still so off-tune it makes me cringe, but I do know most of my uke chords, the only exceptions being ones we don’t play enough so they stay unfamiliar. I seldom need to look at my fingers anymore. I think I’m learning my uke!

When I was a kid, nobody I knew played a musical instrument. We all reached our musical heights in the first grade rhythm band. My grandparents had a piano in their living but nobody in the family, including them, played. To my grandparents a piano was a status symbol, always dusted, never played.

Today’s weather is the same as yesterday’s, sunny and cold. The sky is an icy blue. The wind is now a breeze. I can see the dead oak leaves at the ends of branches blowing, but only a little. I’m staying close to home today. My local grocery order will be delivered this afternoon. All’s well though the degree of wellness fluctuates from day to day.

My plants did get watered yesterday, and my bed did not get changed, just as I figured. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy. Today I have started a new list of items I need at the hardware store. I think this is my first hardware store list. Maybe I should decorate the top of the list with flowers or stars (tongue in cheek here).

When I was a kid, our living room didn’t have a whole lot of knick-knacks. I didn’t notice. I think there were twin sort of shadow boxes on the wall behind the couch. They held ceramic figures. In my kitchen on a shelf is an elf or a leprechaun. I’m not sure though I do lean toward leprechaun. I bought it because my mother had his cousins of sorts on those living room shelves on Washington Ave.

I can hear Henry playing with his toys. When Lee was vacuuming on Thursday, he put the toys in the toy box. Henry will not pull his toys from the box. If I put the toys on the hall floor, he will play with them. This is yet another Henry quirk. Did I mention he won’t go out the dog door at night unless I turn on the outside light first?

When I was a kid, there was no leash law. I don’t think I ever remember seeing someone walk a dog. I remember Duke, our boxer, being let out the front door to go wherever he wanted to go. Duke had a son named Sam who belonged to my aunt who had given us Duke. Sam was a big boxer compared to Duke. Sam was silly and even grinned. I’m not kidding. Sam grinned. Duke used to go to Sam’s house to meet up with his son. They used to roam together. People talked about the two ferocious boxers roaming the streets. We laughed. Duke and Sam were people lovers. I don’t even think those people mentioned Sam grinned.