It's 65 degrees? Really?

Don't get me wrong - I love that I can go outside without a bunch of layers, and it was not fun the other day trying to free my car from its blanket of ice - but isn't it just too weird for it to be this warm on December 28?

I can remember such awesome snowfalls in my youth, and even a couple when my kids were at home, but I'm wondering whether my grandchildren will get to experience something like that in their lifetimes. I know, I know: "Be careful what you wish for" but still, this warmth seems so unnatural.

Of course, one of the reasons I'm eager to move is so I won't have to do snow removal anymore. So maybe I should wait until I DO move before I do my snow dance!

I won't let this bother me, but...

So I got a web cam for my daughter and her family. Yesterday, we tried it out for the first time, and I got to see my two-year-old granddaughter and my daughter and my son-in-law, their cats, and their Christmas tree. The baby was excited at first to see me - we chatted for a while, and then her attention seemed to wander. Finally, she turned to her mother and said, "Turn Mimi off."

What an age we live in. They live about eight hours away and I can talk to them any time I want, and now I can SEE them. So now, we're at the point when my granddaughter can think of me as a television show that she can turn on and off. But it's fun to be able to see her face to face.

I love my back room!

I spent last evening swaddled in a blanket, lying on the couch in the room of my house that we have never quite decided what to call. We built this about 17 years ago - it is a large (25x14 feet) room, surrounded on three sides by glass, with skylights and a pitched roof. Sometimes we call it a sun room, more often, just "the back room." It is a wonderful room in all seasons - in the summer it's my beach house; in the spring I can watch the trees burst into green; in the fall I see those leaves turn; it's just about perfect for watching the snow fall. At Christmas, it's especially fun. I have the three large windows surrounded with strings of white lights (originally used on the outside of the house) and the tree is up and lighted. Last night, the weather outside was truly frightful, and not in the fun way - cold, driving rain, relentless wind. I was supposed to go into Philadelphia with a friend to listen to music, but the combination of the weather and a persistent cold and laryngitis led me to beg off. Instead, I took a hot bath, wrapped myself in a blanket, and hunkered down with a glass of Shiraz, a bag of pistachios, and the newspaper and listened to the radio. It was lovely. Tonight, after a pretty long day - an away basketball game this afternoon followed by a productive shopping foray - I'm doing about the same thing. It's a bittersweet time - I probably won't be sitting in this room next Christmas - but right now my old cat, Max, and I are enjoying the lights and the music.

Just two more school days until vacation - and I'm watching two great films - Rashomon and Wuthering Heights! Good times!

Happy Trails, Pat the Bat

I know, I know. Like a white shark has to swim to survive, a championship team has to constantly retool to maintain its edge.

Still, I will miss Pat Burrell. I felt very maternal towards him - even to the extent of wanting to scold him for his terrible chewing tobacco habit. I remember my dear mom and my dear late mother-in-law at a Phillies game in 1977, saying about "Deep Count" Wayne Twitchell, "Don't boo him - he's doing the best he can, bless his heart." I felt that way about Pat. I took such pleasure in his triumphs and felt actual pain when he struggled. And I especially love that he never, ever, reacted to negative feedback from the fans and the press.

We were just watching some of the World Series games on DVD and I felt pangs of regret seeing Pat's many highlights, knowing I'll be watching him in another uniform next year. I'm very happy that his last at bat as a Phillie was a double that ended up to be the winning run of the last game of the World Series.

Good luck sweetie. And, yes, bless your heart.

Hey! It's winter - prime time TV watching time!

I wonder if the Writers' Guild knew the effect their strike would have on television programming. As a result of their first stoppage, we now have reality shows ad nauseum. The studio executives found out they could put crap on the air in the form of reality shows (my apologies, The Amazing Race) and insipid, greed-enabling game shows instead of quality dramas and comedies that don't insult our intelligence AND PEOPLE WOULD EAT IT UP!

When I heard that Jay Leno was leaving the Tonight Show and Conan O'Brien was taking over, I thought that was a good thing - more edgy, less Borscht Belt. Now I hear that Leno is going to be on five days a week at 10:00 p.m. So that's five fewer hours of produced programming a week. So, we lose ER, which regained its stride after several lame years. Instead of finding good new dramas, we'll just let Leno keep making the world's unfunniest jokes and bring on actors who unashamedly shill their latest projects.

I know, it's sad enough that I care about this. I guess I just miss The West Wing and a couple other shows like Hill Street Blues and St. Elsewhere. Bruce Paltrow must be spinning in his grave.