The morning is cold. The small bit of snow left on the grass cracked when I walked on it on my way to the papers. That sound took me back to cold, cold mornings and walking to school across the field. Every place I stepped the ice cracked and web lines spread in front of my boots. I could see my path across the field in footsteps mostly cracked in the middle. Sometimes the cold took my breath away.

Today is in the mid-30’s. The morning sun and blue sky have been displaced by clouds. Outside looks cold. I shut the back door, Henry’s door, as I could feel the cold through the flap and down the hall. I think it is time for socks.

When I was a kid, everything Christmasy made me giddy. The countdown began one week away from the big day. When we got out of school for Christmas vacation, the excitement was palpable. December 23rd was often the last day of school and the last day before the big days.

Christmas Eve morning was usually anti-climatic. It was a regular winter morning, sometimes cold and sometimes damp. I wanted to wake up to parades and bands, to celebrations heralding the coming arrival of Santa. It was a day to be impatient and not at all sleepy, a day for surprises and for new pajamas. I remember watching A Christmas Carol almost every Christmas Eve after dinner.

I am staying home today as I have no reason to be out and about. I am dressed in comfy clothes. My warm around the house pants celebrate Christmas and are covered in gnomes wearing red hats and coats. My sweatshirt is red. I have plenty of food, a fridge full, some cheeses, hummus and pita, avocados, candy, chips and an onion dip. I have milk for cocoa and fluff to float on the top. I have cinnamon rolls in the can. I am in paradise.

When I first opened my eyes, I looked out the window and saw flurries. I fell back to sleep, or would that be drifted back to sleep? Well, I’m leaning toward drifted with the snow and all, but regardless, I went back to sleep. When next I woke up and looked, the snow was heavier. I stayed in bed warm and comfy until Henry got restless knowing I was awake and pretending not to be so I decided to get up and get on with the day. The snow had stopped.

The kids here have a snow day or rather a wind day. The wind last night was heavy and loud and brought fears of downed lines, but it blew itself out. The trees are calm this morning. The only snow left is ugly, pock marked, after a day of rain. The streets and walkways are clean. My neighbor across the street shoveled. The rest of us let the rain do the clearing.

Where I lived when I was a kid got lots of snow in yesterday’s storm, maybe even a foot. The no school announcements were on TV early, for some, as early as the night before, running at the bottom of the screen during the news. When I was a kid, it was an alarm from the fire station which announced no school. Even an inch or two had us hopeful, had us listening for that blast of the alarm. When it didn’t happen, we groused in disappointment. When it did, we wanted out right away to play in the snow, to sled down the hill and to throw snowballs. We couldn’t go to school, but we could play in the snow all day.

Boxes arrive every day. My dining room is disappearing, hidden under piles of empty boxes. Yesterday it was three of them, all filled with Christmas presents from my family. Just now two more were delivered. Henry was crazed, and I was afraid he’d go out the door. He scared the FedEx lady so much she dropped the packages on the steps and took off. I don’t blame her. Henry was scary.

I have no need to be out today. I have plenty of food, drink and even a bit of dessert. I treat myself well during my self-imposed quarantine. Tonight for dinner I’m having steak quesadilla.