Today is sunny, but I don’t care. It does me no good. The day is still cold, and outside is uninviting. My mood now reflects the cold. I yelled at Gracie this morning because she was driving me crazy sitting beside me and staring. That’s not new. She does that most days when she wants something, and I usually ask her what she wants, and when her ears perk, I accede to her wishes but I didn’t today. The cold has undermined my good humor. All I ask is one warm winter’s day.

The house is cozy but staying inside day after day has made me far too productive. I can’t walk into a room without doing something. I’ve vacuumed, changed my bed, put things away, done laundry and swept the kitchen. I even watered the plants and did some polishing. I’m thinking possession, an evil spirit bent on making me clean the house, a cruel and hideous spirit. While I work, while I’m in a frenzy, the dog and cat ignore me. The dog sleeps on the couch and Fern sleeps curled in a ball. The dog snores. Fern sort of whistles, a cat’s version of a snore. I envy the both of them.

I do have a reprieve. My friends have invited me to watch the Pats play the Ravens. I can put my dust rag away for just a while and silence the madness.

A few of my Christmas presents are decorative, and I’ve been walking around trying to find just the right spots. A couple are hanging, but a couple more still wait. The hall upstairs has a new rug. The table in the living room is where the new pottery from Ghana, a gift from my sister, has found a home. The woven lamb, from my other sister, is still waiting. I have tried several spots but none were right. There I was walking from room to room holding up the weaving and then shaking my head and moving on. There is a cascade effect here. I find a spot and what was there needs to be moved so I look for another spot and on and on. I have become the Diogenes of interior decorating.