Archive for December, 2007
What a bundle of nerves I am this weekend. The advent of change is nearly palpable in my house. Once the clock ticks over to 2008, the real countdown to my new life begins. I won’t be sad to shut the book on 2007, what a crappy year.
I don’t make new year’s resolutions. When my kids were all at home, we were the New Year’s Eve party house. Two non-drinking parents in attendance- everyone gave us their kids. Pap and I always went all out, punch in champagne glasses, crazy games, balloons on the ceiling, and at midnight – the clean slate celebration. Whenever a year rolled over, we forgave all our kids transgressions from the previous year, no matter how heinous. They loved this ceremony, and most of them took full advantage of the opportunity to start over in our good graces.
Considering how things went down around this place in 2007, I think I’ll see if Pap wants to revive the old clean slate ceremony. Even if it is just the two of us now.
Happy New Year everybody!
Why is it that I’m the only person in my household that knows how to put the new toilet paper back on the holder? Three adults live in this house AND YET…I seem to be the only one who knows how to replace the paper towels, throw away the empty shampoo bottles or load the dishwasher.
Maybe they’re geniouses…these tasks are too simple for their complex minds. But wait, their clothes match and they understand The Simpsons…that can’t be it.
Perhaps these items are too heavy for them to lift…nope, both of them are heaving those ceramic steins around with just three fingers on one hand.
Could it be they think its MY JOB?! It’s not going to be pretty around this joint for a couple of days. I feel a New Year’s Resolution coming on.
It started with one whopper of virus, that turned into pneumonia, then morphed into bronchitus and ultimately slid into a sinus infection. I lost eight pounds…of snot. In 49 years I don’t remember ever being that sick. Once the fever passed and I could get up and get dressed without immediately needing a nap or spending an hour hacking up a lung…I found I couldn’t write anything. Answering an e-mail took half the day. Attempts at a chapter, story or post resulted in hours of staring at a page as blank as my mind. So I walked away (metaphorically), in search of some kind of balance for my life. I can’t keep all the plates spinning anymore, I don’t even want to.
It started with passing our Thanksgiving celebration off to my two oldest daughters. One has a big house, both can cook. They took the torch willingly and did a great job. I divied up my Christmas decorations…there isn’t room in a three bedroom apartment for 2,500 square feet of Christmas. I kept the Santa collection, of course, it was the first and will be the last. I only baked two kinds of cookies for the holidays, our two favorites. I trained my replacement at work on almost everything I do, and narrowed my day job down to a manageable roar. But I still couldn’t write. Plots upon plots played out in my dreams, disappearing like mist the minute I opened my eyes.
At the end of November me and my grandgirls Jazz and Bri, started rehearsals for the community theater’s angel tree production. They sang in the children’s choir and I actually had three lines this year (a step up from third bush behind the outhouse). We raised many thousands of dollars for the Salvation Army, enough for more than 60 kids to have presents that wouldn’t have had, and money for the food bank. And somewhere in that rush of rehearsals and performances, a spark of a story emerged – scribbled on the back of my script between acts at our second show. By the time we wrapped, I felt like I was thinking again, and words were getting on paper.
Last night our family gathered for our Christmas celebration. Today my kids with children will celebrate with their other families and my single kids will drift over later this afternoon. Its quiet, and very peaceful here in my home office, except for the fidgeting and grumbling from the cast of my newest book who are anxiously waiting for me to finish this so they can tell me their stories.
Merry Christmas everyone! Thank you so much for dropping by and letting me know you were thinking about me during my long absence.