Here I am sitting on the couch in a brown study, my mood of the day. I woke up early, for me anyway, and took my time. I read the papers, finished both the crossword and the cryptogram, had three cups of coffee shared with Henry, rearranged a few things on the counter while my English muffin toasted and am now watching a really bad movie about aliens. I have no ambition. I haven’t a single list. My biggest accomplishment for the day is still to come.

Last night I had soft tacos for dinner, well a soft taco. I had everything I needed except salsa, but the Rotel tomatoes with chili were perfect so I added the can to the cooking meat and the seasonings. I cut up some cherry tomatoes in my handy dandy cherry tomato cutter, had sour cream, pepper Jack cheese and an avocado which had been hard the day before when I put it into the avocado sock for ripening. I see confusion. An avocado sock? Yes, I bought one for myself and one for a friend’s stocking, pun sort of intended. The sock is neat looking. It has a leather string for closing and will ripen the hardest avocado over a day or two. Last night I yummed my way through my impromptu dinner. It was delicious and will be again.

Today is a bit blah though that may be reflective of my mood. It is warmer than I expected, in the mid 40’s. The clouds with varying degrees of grey are with us again. The wind is getting stronger.

When I was a kid, the week after Christmas was sometimes the best fun. I remember the year I got my bike and how excited I was especially as I could ride it Christmas Day, no snow.

We used to go our grandparents every Christmas Day after dinner, and I hated it. We’d get gifts there and see all our cousins, numbering I think in the thousands, but I hated leaving my new toys.

Henry’s presents are strewn about the house. He has before and after Santas. The before is traditional. The after is wearing a Hawaii bathing suit with a matching Santa hat and, to complete his ensemble, Santa is wearing sunglasses. The before crinkles and the after makes noise when you press his belly, his considerable belly. Henry plays with both of them. It took a while before Henry figured out toys, but now he knows, and right now I can hear the crinkles of poor Santa being mauled.

Today is lovely but cold. The air has a clarity that only winter cold seems to bring. The trees in the backyard stand stark against the deep blue sky. The thin pine branches look like skeletal fingers and hands grasping at nothing in the air. Nothing is moving. The air is finally still.

The birds have found the filled feeders. The chickadees were the first to arrive followed by the titmice, the usually order of visitors. I have plenty of seed.

My favorite day for Christmas to be on was always Sunday. That meant I could go to church and count it twice, once for Sunday and once for Christmas.

My almost $100.00 order is in for pick-up at Agway. The only non-animal item is a package of AAA batteries. Henry’s order includes bully sticks, his favorites, while the cats are getting Temptations.

The rush is over. My uke teacher sent a file of St. Patrick’s Day songs hoping we can learn a couple before the big day. I light my Christmas tree still and sit on the couch in the living room. The window lights make shadows on the walls. The room feels cozy and warm. Henry always joins me.

The dog’s outside water bowl has a layer of ice and a few pine needles are frozen on the top of it. The day will stay cold with a high of 38˚.

When I was a kid, on the days after Christmas, all my presents stayed around the tree. I’d sit on the floor and look at them one at time. I’d start reading one of the books. Sometimes we’d play a game. We always got a new game. Our favorite was Sorry. It is still my favorite.

When I was a kid, on the days after Christmas, all the presents stayed around the tree in our own little piles. I’d sit on the floor and look at my presents one at time. Sometimes I’d start reading one of my new books. Sometimes we’d play a game. We always got a new game. Our favorite was Sorry. It is still my favorite. I remember Parcheesi. That game, much like Monopoly, seemed to last forever. If you got stuck behind a blockade, you could do laundry, make dinner or watch TV before your next turn came. We didn’t play that game often.

Other than my pickup at Agway, I have no plans beyond taking a shower. I’ll probably have to nap.