By Phyllis Galowitz

It’s Saturday morning, December 9th, gloomy outside and the weather report said, “one to three inches of snow predicted.” I’d better get started with my usual Saturday chores and delights; no schedule, no definite plans, my special, leisurely breakfast of a twice-a-week allowance of an egg (curtailing my cholesterol intake.) This morning, I’ve decided on a cheese omelet, rye toast, orange juice and tea, meanwhile, setting out Lili’s “Fancy Feast” favorite.

Jeannie, daughter number two, calls me at about 9 and I look forward to this special time together, hearing about her week at work, news of her family and telling her the latest from Andes and my life. We talk for more than an hour and wish it could be face to face, but she’s four hours away so we settle for second best. Other calls from friends and family, who know I’m available on Saturday mornings, keep me moored and happy with connections to loved ones.

I notice the snow is falling, but it’s light and not threatening. It’s time to go to the transfer station, and on the way home, weather permitting, visit a friend. But the snow is getting heavier by mid-afternoon so I may postpone going anywhere and read my book instead. Later in the afternoon, I see the snow dressing the branches in their winter attire. The squirrels are hiding and I haven’t seen a bird all day. It’s quiet. Frank Sinatra is pouring out his heart on WIOX. Lili is stretched out next to the warm radiator and the sky is darkening. It’s 4:30. The day has disappeared. I think the snow is still falling. Snowplows are clearing Route 28. Only 2 inches have fallen but its magic has transformed everything.

Sunday morning, it’s still snowing. Another two inches have fallen and it’s still coming down. I should take a picture but it will look just like the ones I’ve taken year after year. I’m always awed! I don’t suppose I’ll get to finish the “Fall clean-up” until next Spring…~