Brrr! What a rude awakening a couple of mornings this past week. I spoke with my brother back home in Western Pennsylvania and whined about temperatures in the teens. He reported below zero, a foot of snow and proceeded to call me a wuzz.

I’m wiring on Monday this week in a medical waiting room in Boston. Not to worry, a simple test for someone else. We took an early ferry and enjoyed a beautiful sunrise over the Vineyard Haven harbor.

In the Seventies, I worked many breakfast shifts at the Black Dog Tavern, so a sunrise there is a distant and happy memory. Many times in the winter a Coast Guard cutter had to bust a path through ice to free a path for the early boats. What with climate change, that too is a distant memory.

We were warned about a hard freeze, so I managed to get most of the celeriac out of the ground. I prefer it to celery. It’s not stringy and holds up well in a stew or soup. It, however is, by far, the most annoying of all the vegetables to clean and prepare. I noticed that the Beetlebung Farm has some large ones that are partially prepared.

I’m ashamed to have neglected some of the cutbacks on properties. Now that the ground is frozen it will be, at best, an unpleasant task. I do not mind pruning for the winter months. I can sit on a bucket, contentedly, and do hydrangeas for hours.

Have I mentioned at least a dozen times that they are overused? Some places have them completely encircling the house. Now with the dead flowers, they are unattractive. Don’t forget that the old-fashioned ones that bloom on old growth cannot be cut as aggressively as on might like. I do cut to the ground any stems, which will grow and flop all over the lawn.

Thanks to Violet and my grand-daughter-in-law, Ellie, we managed to dispatch the rest of the Cornish game hens. Less mouths to feed and some wonderful meals to be enjoyed.

I made a blended soup with chicken stock, potatoes, onions, carrots and broccoli. The handheld blender and a bit of cream finished the effort.

On the way to the highway, we took a drive down the Falmouth Main street. Every shop in town sported different Christmas pots. I love how creative people can be.

Now I’m writing the next day - Tuesday.

Again, I am off-Island for a dreaded dental procedure. I probably told my favorite dentist joke before but hey, it bears repeating. “A felon stands before a judge who says our prison system is overcrowded so we’ve scheduled you a series of dental appointments instead.” I told my dentist that joke who responded: “Now you’re just hurting my feelings.”

Forgive my verbal wanderings this week. For one thing, the cold has dampened my gardening spirit. As much as I try to avoid the anxiety leading up to Christmas, I fear I’m catching it from others. Violet is doing the music for the service at the Chilmark Church at 5 p.m. on Christmas Eve. She’s giving our piano quite a workout practicing.

I’m ashamed of our government, especially this time of year. The boat strikes in the Caribbean certainly do not speak peace on earth—good will to men.