Because of the holiday, I’m writing on Sunday — several days before the paper hits the newsstands.

The past few days have given me weather whiplash. Last weekend’s lovely snow is long gone and today the temperature is nearing 50 degrees. I had a moment when I expected to see some greenery of spring bulbs. Sometimes snowdrops and crocuses can be seen coming up in snow. Today is the first day of winter and the days will become almost un-noticeably longer.

Last week’s column had a typo for which I claim full responsibility. My handwriting can be iffy at best. Pity my poor editor, especially since he comes to my house to retrieve the pages. I meant to say zucchini and onion puree, not peeled onion and zucchini.

Often in the height of summer bounty, I cook up tons of vegetables, herbs and chicken stock. Then I blend it and freeze in handy quart-sized containers. As I write, I have a couple of those containers heating up on the wood store. Life cannot be much better!

I picked up a spaghetti squash at one of the local farmsteads. Only Violet and I like it. I cooked it to prepare later to receive sauce. As it was cooking, we both remarked how sweet it smelled. Wasn’t I surprised to discover that it was some sort of melon? Oops! We had a good laugh, but didn’t really enjoy it — hope the chickens do!

In a quick look in Johnny’s Seed catalog Honey Blonde looked the closet to what I had. It’s some sort of hybrid — I usually stick to the open-pollinated, old varieties when choosing vegetable seeds.

I had a very large pumpkin on the property, which doubled as yard art. I had to move it with the hand cart. Some critter moved it quite a distance, taking large bites all the while. Some of the guesses were down-right creepy.

I made a foray into the garden and picked a sizable amount of collards. It’s going to take some time to clean them up. It’s a huge pile on the table. We like them plain, cooked a long time in stock.

Allow me to get back to critters, briefly. I trapped three mice in the pantry. Ewww. I’m loathe to poison and traps are just unpleasant, although the newer Tom Cat brand is easier than the old wooden ones.

I said “Uncle” and marched down to the animal shelter. As luck would have it, I got an eight-year-old stray cat with hunting credentials. She immediately went under the stairs where I suspect is the mouse entry way. Perhaps her very presence will be enough.

Honestly, I feel like Roseanne Roseannadanna sometimes: “If it’s not one thing it’s another!” Yet another crazy week in Trump world, never mind that it’s Christmas. First, the Vanity Fair interview — yikes! Then the taking of some Venezuelan oil tankers without Congressional approval (Big Surprise). Finally, the tons of blacked-out pages of the Epstein files.

I remember in the Nixon years when common knowledge was: “The cover-up is worse than the crime.” I don’t think that is actually true in this present situation.

Nonetheless, “the weary world rejoices!” Happy Christmas to all.