It's a snow day. A good day to hunker down, finish the kitchen clean-up from a party weekend and play my favorite Christmas album: Sing Choir of Angels! by the Tab Choir. They have lots of Christmas albums but this is by far my favorite.
It's a snow day. A good day to remember it's Daddy's birthday. I gave him a bathrobe on his last birthday. Blue. Or was that the year before? I found a late photo of him in my desk, bent over and speechless, his face angular, the skin pulled tightly over his bones.
I'd rather remember him making up stories and cheating at Checkers, I'd rather remember him whistling, and the smell of him: musk and tar and electrical tape. I'd rather remember the way he mashed his food together with his fork and salted it generously without first tasting it. I'd like to see him again in his white Thompson Electric jumpsuit with a red "Louis" embroidered over the pocket. He'd let us ride the running board of his truck down the alley.
It's a snow day. I added ornaments to both trees, because I was in a hurry last Friday when we put them up. And I played more music: Hits of the 50's, Horowitz playing the Rach #3, and then Horowitz playing the Rach #2 (twice).
I am so nostalgic on this snow day, that I could play Barry Manilow's Greatest Hits if I still had a copy.