Today is cold. The high is right now at 34°. I was out earlier as I had PT then I shopped at Agway. I got plenty of dog food cans but forgot the dry. I’m finding my mental lists tend to loose a few items from here to there. I’ve used mnemonics, but I didn’t this time. I was sure I’d remember.

Even when I was a kid, the week after Christmas was slow. If it was cold enough, we’d go skating at the temporary rink in Recreation Park. Sometimes we’d skate at the swamp. Once in a while, we’d take the bus to the MDC Rink in Medford. I remember the bus made a stop at the New England Sanitarium and Hospital. That’s where I was born. The stop was in front of a beautiful old stone building. Student nurses lived there. I’d see them sometimes in their white uniforms and stiff caps. I skated until my feet began to hurt. I remember on the walk home my feet felt strange out of the skates. I was tired by the end of the day.

I’d read my new books. I always got books for Christmas. One year I got the Book Alive, the story of the rugby team whose plane crashed in the Andes. They were there 10 weeks before being found, and only 16 of the 45 passengers were found alive. They stayed alive by eating human flesh. I read that book all day Christmas Day. My mother told me I should be saving it, not reading it so quickly. I pondered that and rejected it.

Our Christmas dinner was always in the early afternoon, usually around two. It was always spectacular, special. We had turkey when I was little, but when I was much older, we had a rib roast or a crown pork roast always accompanied by potatoes. My father was the original meat and potatoes guy. We had the squash dish which appeared on every holiday table. The rest of the vegetables, except for my father’s canned asparagus, varied year by year.

After the dishes were cleared and the kitchen put to rights, the table was laden with desserts: heaps of cookies, maybe a pie or two, whoopee pies, date nut bread and candy, my English toffee. We’d eat dessert in the living room. The tree was lit and the presents were stacked in individual piles. I’d look through my stocking again. Christmas Day was always the best day of the year.