“I love how summer just wraps it’s arms around you like a warm blanket.”

Today is supposed to be warm, maybe even hot. Yesterday Skip, my factotum, was here all day getting the backyard and deck ready for summer. Looks like the timing was perfect. The vegetable garden was weeded, its fence mended, candles hung in the trees, furniture uncovered and cleaned, Gracie’s holes filled, including the one closest to China, backyard ornaments put into the ground and my favorite new addition set up from the heavy pine tree: two stars hung together with five tails extending from them all in white lights. I put them on the timer and last night the stars were beautiful. A few things remain, like planting the veggies and adding flowers and herbs to the pots and getting the shower ready, but that’ll wait until it’s warmer every day. I can’t help it. Seeing the deck ready makes me excited to be out there every day.

When I was a kid, and it was summer, we never stayed in the house, even when it rained. We’d find a leafy tree and stay under it to keep as dry as we could. Most days, though, we’d spend at the playground on the field at the bottom of our street. There were two college students there and at each of the playgrounds in town. They ran all the activities. One summer I painted a tray, and it was the best painting I’d ever done. Every summer I’d make lanyards or bracelets out of gimp. I could do all different knots. The first one I learned was the square knot then the round and then the flat. The round was for the lanyard and the flat was the best for a gimp bracelet. I made pot holders on that square loom with the hooks where you wove the cotton. I think I gave my mother one for every Christmas for years. I played horseshoes, checkers and softball and learned to play chess and tennis. For years I spend the entire day at that playground. The local paper, The Independent, had a playground section once a week,and I got my name in the paper a few times for winning at horseshoes and for being the winning pitcher in softball. Nothing makes a kid happier than to see her name in print.

I out grew the playground and spent summers round the house more. By the time I was a teenager, my friends and I were at the go out at night stage. I was on a drill team and we had drill practice two nights a week, and once every couple of weeks we’d go the drive-in. Some nights we just hung around the way teenagers do. My mother didn’t seem to miss the potholders.

“One who roams the channels after dark, searching for buried treasure.”

When I woke up, I thought it was raining. I could hear steady drips from the eaves, but I was delightfully surprised when I saw the sun and a blue sky. The day is warm, winter warm, and the drips are from the roof as the rest of the ice melts. The birds are at the feeders which I filled yesterday. I watched them for a while from the kitchen window while my coffee was brewing.

Yesterday was a weird sort of day. As I said, I filled the feeders and while on the deck I also emptied ice off the furniture covers. In the house I wanted to find spots for a few new items. One is a picture I bought on my first trip to Ghana which had gouges on its frame so I finally had it reframed. I walked around the house looking for a spot. I finally found one, hammered a small nail, hung the picture, stood back and realized the picture was too high. I pulled out the nail, hammered it into a lowered spot, stood back and decided it was perfect. Meanwhile, I have new runner on the table, a Christmas gift from my sister. It is a runner with African designs and is beautiful, but it’s dark so I decided I needed to change the decorative stuff on the table to lighter “stuff” so I went hunting. In the process of hunting I found a wooden house which lights up and has been in the same spot for years. I never light it up so I decided to move it. I went to a small table in the dark side of the living room, but there was Ghanaian cloth from my ceremony on it so I moved the cloth to the couch for the meantime. The small house was just right for the table. It was lit last night and gave that side of the room just enough ambient light. Meanwhile, what to do with the cloth? I got my huge Bolga baskets which is on the lower shelf of a big table and is filled with a carved gourd, tea lights and all sorts of candles. I took those out and put the cloth in which worked out just fine. The only problem was the tea lights and the gourd. I looked and decided to clean out a basket in this room, and that’s where I put the teas lights. Still with me here? Left over from all this juggling was the etched gourd from Ghana which had been in the big basket and a wooden box with a votive holder and candles which had also been in the basket. (I did say it was a huge basket.) I walked around trying to figure out where to put both of those. By this time, I’d been at this weird little game for over an hour. I put the gourd back in the baskets over the cloth. That seems to defeat the purpose of showing off the cloth so I took the gourd out. I did check out some wall space, but it’s a big gourd. I never did find a spot so it’s on the couch waiting for me to start all over. I don’t remember where I put the wooden box, but I’m sure it will show up sometime, probably later when I walk around the house trying to decide where to put the gourd.

“Life is a celebration of awakenings, of new beginnings, and wonderful surprises that enlighten the soul.”

The morning is cold and dark. I woke up at 5:30, and the heat hadn’t yet been triggered beyond its 62˚ night setting so I tried to snuggle under the comforter and go back to sleep. It didn’t happen so I came downstairs, turned up the heat and turned on the coffee. All three animals are here in the den with me, and each is sleeping on a favorite spot. Gracie gets the couch, Fern sleeps on the afghan on the back of the couch and Maddie gets the chair. They look warm and comfortable. I’m a bit jealous they all fell back to sleep.

Yesterday I finished putting Christmas away. Last night I lit the electric candles on the tables in my living room, and in the kitchen I lit the quahog shell lights and the pepper bunch lights. The kitchen had a reddish tint. I miss the colors the Christmas tree brought to light up the night.

From now on winter is boring. I know each month has a day highlighted on the calendar, but that isn’t really enough. I’m going to have to manufacture celebrations, and I’ve been hunting for my favorites. January 10th is Peculiar People Day, and I have several candidates. In February is Valentine’s Day or chocolate and flowers day so I guess that month is covered though I could celebrate Kite Flying Day on the 8th if there is a good wind. The beach is the best place for flying kites, and I have a great kite just waiting to be flown. It has wooden struts and a cloth design, a dragon. It is meant to fly. In March is National Grammar Day, a day close to my heart. I can wear my new tee-shirt: Punctuation saves lives. It has two sentences above that line: Lets eat grandma and Let’s eat, grandma. I expect no further explanation is necessary. The first day of spring is also in March, and we have our traditions to welcome that day. Beyond that I have nothing, but I always find April a hopeful month when warmth creeps back and the dafs poke above the ground, and color starts to return to brighten the world.

Today is the Epiphany, Three King’s Day.  Tonight is the last night for my outside lights.

“Like snowflakes, my Christmas memories gather and dance – each beautiful, unique and too soon gone.”

This is an alternative universe. It just has to be as mine doesn’t have sun or temperatures in the 50′s, at least not in December. Today and yesterday have been amazing. Though it rained a little yesterday, it was so warm all day that even at 11 o’clock last night it was still 51˚. Today is just as warm, and there is actually sun, a glowing orb in the sky I barely recognized. It’s a day to be outside enjoying a bit of a breather from winter.

The birds are back. This morning was like a busy day at O’Hare. My friends the chickadees have returned, as have goldfinches, a titmouse, woodpeckers who are enjoying my new suet feeder and the nuthatches who have been, for a while, my only visitors. Yesterday it was two house finches. When I stand at the sink, I look out the window behind it to get the best view of the birds and the feeders. I’m glad to have them back though now I need more sunflower seeds.

My outside lights went up yesterday and were lit last night. I drove around the block so I could see the whole house. It looks lovely, especially the huge star with trailing tails of lights which hangs on the driveway gate and the ornament tree lit by the spotlight. I noticed the sled near the door and the wreath on the front gate could use a bit of light so that will be my quest today, to find exactly the right strands. I also want to flower shop, to buy my poinsettias and boxwood. The rosemary tree is already on order. I love decorating my house for Christmas, and this is only the beginning.

The town where I grew up always decorated the fire station, the town hall and the square. The brick fire station was my favorite. Colored lights outlined the whole building and Santa climbed a ladder on the siren tower. In the square, decorations were strung from one side of the street to the other. A giant wreath was hung on the front of the police box which used to stand in the middle of Main Street. All the stores decorated their windows. Even the fish market had snowflakes falling on the mounds of snow at the bottom of the window, but you could still see the lobster tank.

In those days, the square had the only shops in town. Carolers from the different elementary schools sang each night on the stage which was erected just for Christmas. The sidewalks were filled with people, and you could hear them wishing each other a Merry Christmas. I loved being there just as it started to get dark and the Christmas lights were lit. It was like a fairyland.

“I discovered windows one afternoon and after that, nothing was ever the same.”

In the den, where I spend so much time, is the window to my world. From that window I can see a part of the deck and the backyard. At night the lights on the topiary in the corner of the deck and the lights in the back yard on the bottle tree easily draw my eyes. Both brighten the darkness. During the morning, especially this time of morning, I can see the sun shining through the leaves of the oak tree. In the summer the whole tree seems to sparkle in the light. Now, the lower branches closest to the deck are in shadow. The sun has changed position.

I am a window person. When I travel, I take pictures of windows. Mostly I take pictures from inside looking out and imagine the people who lived there looking out those same windows. In some places, the views have changed over time but in other places the views are exactly the same. I remember the view from the window on the landing in Dickens’ house. I imagined him stopping for just a moment to look out that window as he was going down the stairs, and I was thrilled to think I was standing where Dickens used to stand. Some Inca and I shared the same view from a house in Macchu Picchu. At Versailles I figured the king might have watched from the front window where I stood.

Doors have never interested me. It is the transparency of windows which draws me. I look out and watch the snow fall. I hear and see the rain as it pelts the glass. My garden in the summer is an array of colors, and I can admire it from the front windows. Doors keep the world away. Windows draw us in and sometimes draw us out.

“All writers are vampires.”

The yard lights, two bottle trees and some tulip ground lights, were out last night so there I was around nine thirty trying to figure out why. I had my flashlight, but it wasn’t enough so I jumped up and down to get Gracie’s motion lights to react. They didn’t so I ran back and forth. The lights then came on so I could see to check the box holding the plugs, the timer and the extension cords. The plugs were fine so I came back in, got a lamp, plugged it into the outside socket and found it didn’t work. I knew then it was time to hit the circuit box. I came in, went down the cellar and pushed the levers back and forth, looked outside and found the lights were lit. I raised my arms in triumph, in a Rocky move; of course, there was a domino effect, and when I came back inside, I had to reset the CD player, the microwave and the old VHS player. I also realized the timer’s clock is probably wrong, but I decided it coukd wait. You’re probably wondering why I just didn’t wait until today for everything. Well, I love looking at those lights, sometimes from the deck and sometimes from the window, and they make shadows of tree branches and their trunks which seem to be nine feet tall stretching across the yard. They’re beautiful, and I didn’t want to miss even one night.

Today is dark and damp and cold at 49°. Yesterday I did errands so I get to lounge today. The book I’m reading is Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter. The title alone tells you it’s a strange one with limited appeal, but it appealed to me. I won’t tell you anything as I’d hate to be a spoiler. I figure I’m not the only one with varied, even odd, tastes in books.

As for me now, I’m almost ready for the afghan, the couch, my book and some music.

“The pack slumbered and only a few watchdogs rattled their chains.”

Winter has left the building. We’re back to 43° today, but a bit of a cold breeze reminds me I live near the ocean. I love that breeze all summer, but I dread it this time of year.

The deck is my favorite summer spot, but I wish I had a porch which would be lovely and warm today. Both Gracie and I could nap there.

Last night I watched from the red carpet to the end of the Academy Awards. My friend Clare and I rated all the dresses and wondered what some women were thinking when they donned some really ugly dresses. It’s a good thing I don’t work greeting people on the red carpet as I suspect, “Why did you pick that really ugly dress?” would not be a welcomed question. How about, “Do you know that dress is a bit dowdy?” Nope, I’d lose my job quickly. I don’t gush.

Last night 4 cars on my street were vandalized, one worse than the others. They used some sort of cream, like hand cream, to cover my neighbor’s car then left some cream on a couple of others as well as mine but in only a few spots. We figured they were running our after covering my neighbor’s vehicle. All that happened between 5:30 and 11:30. All of us have dogs, but none of them barked though I told everyone Gracie did, but I have no idea if she really did as I wasn’t home to hear her. We laughed and commented that my friends’ dog barks at air but not vandals. We wondered if  Cody, who lives in the house with the car most covered, barked and was told to go back to sleep. Another neighbor has sensor lights which are quite sensitive, but none of us saw them lit. We were too busy watching TV, and my neighbor’s TV is in the back of their house so they couldn’t see the lights come on in the front. I figured those lights lit up the area to give the vandals a better view.

Maybe we all need signs on our lawns which say: Be Quiet! Dogs sleeping! My neighbors can add one which says: Walk a bit. The lights will come on should you need them.

“Everybody’s a dreamer.”

Yesterday was a perfect day. It was warm and sunny and the morning was filled with the sounds of bird songs the way spring mornings are. I did all the outside chores I’d been holding off until the weather got warmer. My new palm tree was assembled, put on the deck and lit up last night. My neighbors phoned and said they were thrilled to see it. They called it iconic and likened the tree to the Citco sign at Fenway. This new palm tree is taller than the old. Some of my friends used to have to duck under the old fronds. This one is a foot taller. I also figured out why the ground lights had been off for so long, and they too were bright last night except for the two strands which had lit their last. I bought two new ones, and I’ll put them up today. I have missed all my night lights.

Today is cloudy but warm. A while back the sun tried to break through the clouds but just didn’t have enough oomph yet but it keeps trying. I’m rooting for the sun. Every now and then the leaves move but the day is calm. It rained last night, the second night in a row, and it’s still damp.

The sun just reappeared and the sky has touches of blue. I think it will be a lovely day.

When I was a kid, some things just seemed exotic to me. Palm trees were on that list. I pictured a white sandy beach, water so clear you could see the fish and a line of palm trees along the sand. I imagined drinking from a coconut just knocked from the tree. I think it was Swiss Family Robinson which conjured my imaginings. When I saw my first palm tree, I wasn’t disappointed.

The desert was also among my exotic imaginings. I saw myself dressed like a Bedouin and riding a camel. My clothes were bright reds and greens and blues, and I wore a cloth across part of my face to keep out the sand. I could see myself sitting on the saddle as the camel slowly walked across the desert. It must have been a movie which had me imagining the Sahara as I don’t think any of my books did.

New England is the least exotic place I know, but I figure for some people New England and all it offers might be part of their imaginings. Sledding down a big hill in winter, collecting shells along the shore, swimming in the ocean and eating freshly caught fish might just be part of someone’s dreaming.

“The doors we open and close each day decide the lives we live.”

This is the strangest winter. Yesterday was freezing, literally. When I went to the dump, an open area all around, I thought I’d been whisked to the steppes of Russia. The wind was so cold my hands nearly froze when I got out of the car to toss the trash, lots of trash, in the bins, and by the time I got back into the car, my breathing was as heavy as if I’d be plodding through drifts of snow. Right now it is 36° and feels almost balmy. The paper says 40′s today and 49° by the weekend. I don’t quite know what to make of this winter.

My Christmas tree is gone, lying outside waiting for pick-up. I miss its aroma but most of all I miss its colorful lights and decorations. Winter is drab with its dead leaves, bare branches and early darkness. It is only Christmas which gives winter life and color. Now we’re stuck waiting for spring.

I have these weird bursts of energy. The other day I put away the rest of my Christmas decorations, did a load of wash, watered all the plants, dusted the shelves in my room, changed my bed and filled the bird feeders. I felt accomplished. Today, however, is a day of lethargy. I knew it as soon as I woke up. I didn’t have a single concrete thought, and I just stayed a while comfy and warm under the covers. Gracie sensed my mood. She didn’t move; she just stayed asleep at the foot of my bed.

I don’t know why we pick one road over another. I know I seem to have chosen the right ones for me. My life continues to be a good one. I have found the best of friends and have had the most wonderful experiences. I enjoy every single day even the most mundane of them. My former student, Francisca, is religious. She finds great solace and comfort in God and believes it is God who directs our footsteps. She said I had faith that I would find my students when I went to Bolga. It wasn’t, according to her, mere coincidence that Shetu was at my hotel for the first time in a few years the very night I had dinner there, and that we would find each other. Francisca believes it was God’s will. I would never dispute her. Even if I did, she’d laugh and tell me I was wrong. She’d say she knows better.

“Like snowflakes, my Christmas memories gather and dance – each beautiful, unique and too soon gone.”

Last night was cold, but today we’re back up to 50°. The sun is in and out of the clouds making the day bright but not sunny. I have to refill the feeders later and I’m glad my fingers won’t freeze. Earlier was already warm enough for me to stand outside for a little bit watching Gracie. She ran like a crazy dog around the yard, came in and got her snack, always two biscuits, then she flopped down on the couch for her morning nap. That’s where she still is. One cat, Fern, is on the couch in the living room, and the other, Maddie, just went down the cellar. I suspect she might be mouse hunting.

Later I have some shopping to do so I’m gearing up to fight the crowds at the supermarket and curse the wagons left in the middle of the aisles. My list is small and for that I am thankful. I hate grocery shopping.

Gracie and I went for a ride to see the lights the other night. I was far more enthused than she. I pointed out to her all the wonderfully lit houses, lamented the dark ones and laughed a bit at the “at least they did something houses.” I saw lit Christmas trees through windows and a few plastic Santas on lawns. Those Santas reminded me of my childhood when plastic Santas were the newest Christmas decorations. I have a few myself I’ve collected over the years but haven’t used them in a while. I think next year they’ll be perfect for the deck. It will be like a Santa convention.

When I was young, we used to string popcorn for the tree and a couple of times we added the cranberries. We’d sit at the kitchen table with the bowl of popcorn in the middle for us to share. It took a delicate push to get the needle through without breaking the kernel, but no matter how gently we tried, the table was usually strewn with broken pieces of corn kernels. We’d munch as we worked figuring the popcorn was as much for eating as threading. When our strands were ready, we’d each take our own and place it on the tree looped from branch to branch. We’d then step back to admire our work and how pretty it looked on the tree. When Christmas was over, the strands went outside for the birds.

We stopped doing popcorn when my dog Shauna decided the Christmas tree was for snacking. We caught her eating the popcorn enough times that we gave up before she pulled the tree down during her snack time. Shauna was a great one for sniffing out treats from just about anywhere. She always found her present under the tree. She’d pull it out from the pile and unwrap it then settle down to eat her present. She was always on Santa’s nice list.