I didn’t notice the letdown of dull, unadorned post-Christmas early January this year so much – because we were being mugged by the weather. For us it was not a left-bleeding-in-the-gutter experience, but more of a push-into-a-drift-and-steal-your-mittens affair.

Today the temperature right now is supposed to be 39 degrees. This may be so, but there is a light coating of snow on my street – the one that was black and rain-slicked last evening. The temperature is supposed to fall to 34 during the day and, to tell the truth, I didn’t look at what is to happen tonight.

But, as I wrote, it has taken my mind off of the dreariness of the post-Christmas month.  Of course, now I am a third of the way to February, the waiting room month of the year. You sit there through Lincoln’s and Washington’s birthday and the garish colors and chocolate sweetness of Valentine’s Day, wondering if the prognosis for March will be a harbinger of spring or require another series of  snow shovel, ice-scraping treatments.

I am getting ahead of myself. Today. What am I going to do and take from today? Well, yesterday, I spent a great deal of time rearranging stuff in the basement and then Summer and I watched Presumed Innocent while we sat by the fire. (Always a good way to get rid of leftover pizza boxes while warming ourselves.)

Christmas boxes – packed, numbered, labelled are being stashed and I found two sets of musical Santa and Snowmen lights that didn’t get used. At first it seemed a bummer, but after pushing the “Try Me” button a couple of times, I figured it would be a good idea to put them in an out of the way place next year. Imagining having those lights when the kids were under seven is a little unnerving.  Little impish urchins running up, grinning, giggling and pushing the button over and over again . . . On the other hand, Summer may take it in her head to rig a remote control using her phone to set them off. Or she could connect them to a battery pack, stick them in a mesh bag, and sneak up behind people and then push the button. (It does sometimes occur to me that is is unsettling that I, AmeliaJake, can anticipate these ideas.)

My foot is better,  not shoe ready yet, although I might be able to get away with a largish study pair of Skecher walking shoes. I have a pair in winter black; they make me think little old lady more than the white ones do, but never mind the truth hurting – it’s my foot I’m concerned about.

I am need of a foldover . . . I am always more motivated to hobble into the kitchen than other rooms and here I go.