A new year, same as the old year

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I was going to write “Wow, 2019 – a new year” and then I stopped because, really, it happens every year. No surprise there. 2019 came in for us without pomp or ceremony. A quiet evening at home with my Mom and my husband. We played cards, had a couple of drinks, watched It’s a Wonderful Life and then counted down the last hour of 2018 by watching Canada Celebrates, or something titled along those lines.

Tim put out his ‘fireworks’ — a patch of sparklers lit up on the front step and we giggled, sipped our Prosecco, gave each other a hug and then went to bed. Whoot! Whoot!

Once upon a time having New Year’s plans was a big deal. If you didn’t have tickets for a party or a show, or weren’t invited to someone’s house for a big bash then you were essentially a social misfit. Going out for New Year meant buying an expensive outfit, having dinner reservations, maybe even booking an over-priced hotel room. Partying until the wee hours of the New Year meant something.

What, exactly, I don’t know.

Years ago, twenty-nine of them to be exact, we moved out to a small rural community about thirty minutes drive from the city. Suddenly, going out for New Year became a bit more inconvenient. Also, as we had a young son, partying until the wee hours was no longer very attractive — to me, at least. Nothing could stop my husband from that particular enjoyment.

Our New Year’s celebrations changed to having a few friends and/or family in, or going to their place for the night. We would drink, eat, ring in the New Year and play endless games of Risk, Poker or Stock Ticker. And I found that I rather preferred this low-key way of ringing out the old and ringing in the new.

Everyone was in a safe place, there were no huge costs involved, the food and entertainment was enjoyable and our children were close at hand to share in the fun. I found I did not miss, not one tiny little iota, the pomp and ceremony of those fussy New Year’s Eves of my younger days.

Having lunch with a friend today, we talked about many, many things, one of them being how time changes how we perceive things and how accepting that things change is, generally, not simply okay, but also necessary.

There is value in everything we do, and joy in the remembrance of those things.

Maybe the heralding of a New Year each and every year does become routine, but without that opportunity for annual introspection how could we look back on our lives and appreciate all that we’ve done and all the distance we’ve covered?

Happy New Year.

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June 25th

Day 177 — I like that number – 177 — something kind of neat about it — neat as in tidy, not neat as in ‘cool’.  It’s interesting counting the down the days of the year like this.  The number doesn’t seem all that big, but when you think about it — that’s one hundred and seventy seven days of getting up, going to work, packing a lunch, buttoning a coat, brushing your hair, fixing breakfast, stopping to get gas, and on and on and on.

Well, today is the end of the getting up and going to work and packing a lunch part for me.  At least for the next two months.  Yes, today is freedom day!  That big ol’ carrot is dangling within reach now, I can almost sink my teeth into it.  I’m sure today will go quickly and then I’m going to come home and sit on my deck with a cold beer in hand (if the sunshine holds that is) and ponder the joys and possibilities of the next eight weeks.

 

Wednesday morning, it’s chilly but. . .

. . . we were promised a high of 17 degrees today!

I really debated about breaking out the capri’s this morning, but I think I’ll hold off for a week or so.  For the time being I’ll go sockless or in sandals.  Oh, and I’ll wear short sleeves, too.

I’m kind of in a funny place right now.  I’ve been spending a lot of time spring-cleaning my house and just trying to get back to a more settled way of life.

What that has amounted to really, is me sleeping a lot.  I’ve been incredibly tired for the last week or so and though I’ve pushed myself through it and got a lot of stuff accomplished, I find that by nine o’clock I’m pretty much done in.  And then, trying to drag my hiney out of bed in the morning?  What a chore that is.

It’s probably just the weather, the change in seasons; I only hope it passes soon.

On the writing side of things:  my novel is going nowhere.  I have, in fact, abandoned it for the moment.  I did, however, begin a new children’s book.  And I’ve surfed out some contests that I could enter.  If I get up the energy.

Perhaps a big part of my problem is the fact that we’ve had a great deal of time off from work the past month.  A week at the end of March (our Spring Break), followed by two four-day work weeks because of the Easter holiday.  Then, added to that I was away at a convention for nearly a week prior to Spring Break.

I sort of get into this fantasy world of what it would be like to be able to be at home every day, and then, when it ends I’m left a little confused and disoriented.  It’s a bit of a struggle for a few days to get back into the routine of leaving the house for work.  Prepping the coffee the night before.  Making sure my lunch is ready.  Leaving enough time to iron a blouse, put on makeup, straighten my hair.

I so much prefer just waking up and padding about the house quietly with a cup of coffee in my hand, trying to find the brightest patch of sunlight to curl up in while I sit and ponder the day ahead.

It was nice while it lasted.

Have a great day everyone — and don’t work too hard.