eight hole doc martens,
wool socks, the toes with extra
his cane in the snow


Winter and Christmas carry their own traditions.  While some folks find themselves in the kitchen, baking, or skating with family - we buy a puzzle and listen to the vinyl cafe.  Alexa, god bless the machine, was able to dig us up a few podcasts as we sat with our daughter and her husband and laboured over a picture of old toys.

And as we huddled together and worked on the puzzle, I remembered our earlier Christmases - Bob wearing his oxblood doc marten boots, sliding in the cold with his cane, his always-clad-in-wool feet pulling out of the boot - on the vinyl flooring of our dining room.  I remember the large living room, windows over looking the back yard, covered in snow - his mother and my parents watching the kids open their presents.  The year I accidentally opened the one he said not to and being embarrassed by the contents in front of our parents.