Posted tagged ‘scrub pine’

“Marley was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that.”

December 16, 2017

When I let Gracie out at midnight, it was snowing, small slowly falling flakes. I watched for a minute or two then shut the door as it was cold standing there by the storm door. I think we got about an inch, but it was enough to cover my car. Good thing I bought a brush. I have to go to the vets today to get refills for two of Gracie’s meds and Maddie’s nails need cutting.

Last night was really cold. My afghan wasn’t enough. I’ll just have to hunt out one of the guest room comforters stored down cellar. I think I know where it is.

Today is sunny but cold, about 30˚ right now. There are dripping icicles hanging from the roof. They’ll keep dripping and getting longer until the sun moves around the house. The sky is pure blue and beautiful. The scrub pine tree branches have a layer of snow. When the wind blows, some of the snow falls in a flurry.

I had no mail yesterday so I wondered if the mail truck drove pass my box because I hadn’t shoveled. I called my neighbor whose box is next to mine, but he had mail yesterday. We chatted a while. He wondered where I’d been lately as he hadn’t see me. I mentioned hibernation, and he chuckled. I also mentioned I was going out later. Not long after the call ended, I heard a motor outside. It was my neighbor snow blowing the mail boxes and the area around my car. I yelled out the door to him and thanked him. He said no problem, glad to help. He is a wonderful neighbor.

The first load of clothes is in the washer. A second load is on the floor waiting its turn. I didn’t realize how many dirty clothes I had until I went down the cellar this morning. Most are my comfy clothes, evidence of my hibernation.

I am watching yet another version of A Christmas Carol. This one from 1938 stars Reginald Owen as Scrooge and Gene Lockhart as Bob Cratchit. From what I’ve read, this adaptation isn’t as accurate to the novella as other, later, films are. Anything scary or distressing is missing like the wandering souls Jacob shows Scrooge, the two children, ignorant and want, under the cloak of the Ghost of Christmas Present and the thieves who ransacked Scrooge’s belongings after he died. The studio, MGM, thought at the time these events were too disturbing for a family audience. I’m okay with all of that. The essence of the story is the same.

This film is my sixth A Christmas Carol so far this season. I don’t ever tire of the story, and I’ve found the films differ from one another in many ways. When I was a kid, Christmas was never complete until I’d seen what was usually the Sim version on TV. Sometimes it was on Christmas Eve, the perfect night for watching.




“Why can’t people just sit and read books and be nice to each other?”

January 3, 2013

Winter made a dramatic gesture by sending us the coldest day and night so far this season. I almost said this year then I remembered how young the year is. It was 12˚ last night, a perfect night to stay inside, cozy and warm. Poor Gracie got sent out before bed, but she was out for only a minute or two. I think it was squat and run.

My tree is standing in the living room covered by a white plastic bag. It is ready to be taken outside and brought to the dump. I took off all the ornaments and the lights yesterday. I hated doing it, but it was time. To accomplish that task I had to bring up the bins from the cellar, fill them then slide the heavy bins down the stairs and pile them until next year. My back bears witness to all the work I did yesterday so today is a nothing day. The tree can sit until tomorrow. Gracie and I also did errands yesterday, and I carried in the bags of bird seed and cans of dog food. I figured I’d already done in my back so what the heck. I did leave the 20 pounds of cat litter in the trunk, but I’m going to need that tomorrow to change the boxes. I have designated tomorrow dump day and the old litter has to go.

My scrub pine, the ugly fake tree, is still in the dining room where it will be lit every night until twelfth night. I have also left some decorations around the house to keep it a bit festive. There is no rush to return to drab.

I’ve finished Mr. Penumbra and moved on to Merry Christmas, Alex Cross. Nothing better than hostages and terrorists at Christmas. The book is short and won’t take long to finish. I think James Patterson has caught Mary Higgins Clark’s disease of hiding a short story under the guise of a novel.

It’s a wonderful world when I can plan my day around the couch and a book. I have the whole day to do what I want. How lucky I am!

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