Growing up in Rew, Penn., snow was a fact of life. It usually snowed at Thanksgiving and we never saw the ground again until mid to late April. I’ve been on the Vineyard for almost 50 years so have become accustomed to many mild winters. Tuesday’s storm following days of rain was a surprise to me. I had been following the weather channel closely as I needed to take another short road trip to Marion on Monday.

Stay with me — on Monday morning after a few boat cancellations, Violet and I grabbed the 10:30 a.m. from standby. Although it was a rough ride we were smug that we were actually ahead of schedule. Then for some reason there was only on working slip in Wood’s Hole so we circled around for sometime waiting for another boat to unload, load and leave.

The highway is nothing but unpleasant in wind and rain. Once again, doing the speed limit, I had the distinction of being the slowest on the road. What’s wrong with people? None of us could see more than 100 feet but that did not stop them from flying by me.

Anyway, back to snow here at home. Even though it can be troublesome, it is simply beautiful. My grandson, Michael, and I rummaged in the shed for sleds so he could take his little boy for a ride. Is there anything cuter than a toddler in a snowsuit trying to navigate his first snow? Garden-wise, I’m experiencing a bit of anxiety. My late-ordered daffodils are underfoot in the kitchen. Three large boxes of them hopefully will go into the ground before it really freezes. I seem to be remiss in this particular chore every year. Why stop now? In my defense, I’ve been enjoying some much-needed goofing off. I did manage to drain and coil most of the hoses and haul in the clay ornamental pots. Otherwise there is a lot of cutting back to be done. I justify taking my time so that the birds can have all the seed heads.

Speaking of birds, I only feed them in the winter and had not located the feeders as of Tuesday. Several were at the location waiting in the snow. They remember from last March? I’m impressed and shamed into action.

Seed catalogs used to arrive in January. For the past several years they are in the mailbox just before Christmas. I received four of them on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Everything is rushed nowadays. Christmas movies show up on the television at Halloween for Pete’s sake.

I’m always fascinated by the big hype over Black Friday. The last thing on my mind while putting away the Thanksgiving leftovers is Christmas shopping. I suppose big savings are the draw. My friend, Carla, used to say: “How much can you afford to save?”

Speaking of saving, what will save our democracy from the likes of DJT and his cronies. First, he whined that he didn’t have the opportunity to defend himself in the so-called second “witch hunt.” Now he refuses to send anyone to defend him.

My favorite story this past week is that of Duncan Hunter, congressman from California’s 50th district. He was an early Trump supporter and was accused of campaign fund violations. He used hundreds of thousands of dollars for personal use and got caught. He claimed the “witch hunt” defense since he supported the President. Now he is pleading guilty. People around Trump end up in the Gray Bar Hotel. If I was Rudy, I’d sing.