The visiting nurse tells me I can be sitting here at the computer for a half hour at a time. For me, that’s about a paragraph. I, of course, tend to ignore all advice and then pay dearly and wonder why. Yesterday was payback for writing Coffee but here I am again today.

The last side of the house is being shingled. It is part of this room so I can add banging to the list of annoyances. Yesterday, though, I fell asleep in the afternoon anyway.

I’m watching all the Christmas shows at night to get me in the mood for the season. There is no time I love more than Christmas. The world seems colorful despite the bare trees and the empty branches. The nights are bright with stars which shine sharper in the chill of the night. I await the first snowflake and love how the colored lights shine through the snow. The music of Christmas plays all day in my house. I remember most the songs I learned in school like Up on the Housetop and Rudolph. Gene Autry was my favorite. The cartoons on TV were primitive by today’s standards, but the first showing of Suzy Snowflake meant Christmas was getting closer. Frosty usually arrived next, and I always sang along with great glee and completely off-key. It never mattered. Christmas is forgiving, the time when we all share a spirit and an enthusiasm. My house is not decorated except for some greenery my dear friends gave me, but I’m okay. I have the spirit.