As much as I enjoy the holidays, the calm after the storm of activity is most welcome. We enjoyed seeing Luna and Janus, Terra and Lares, and Attila's daughter Syrinx and her boyfriend Pan. We enjoyed days and days of good food. We enjoyed having time to sit quietly together with open books in our laps, chatting occasionally about the contents.
Mist received a gift from a friend, her first gift since she came to live at our house. It consisted of a container of cat treats, a little fabric packet of catnip, and a blue foam ball. As we expected, she would not touch the cat treats, not one for culinary adventure, our Mist. To our great surprise, she took an initial interest in the catnip. She batted it about, leaping over and around it, rolling onto her back and tossing it into the air. However, she soon lost interest and has ignored it ever since.
The truly successful element of the gift was the blue foam ball. Mist has taken to tossing it hither, thither, and yon. She will throw it into the air and abuse it mightily, meowing all the while. When she has tired of this, she walks away from the ball with an air of supreme indifference. Then she will turn suddenly, crouch, and steady her back feet, before lunging at the ball with tremendous force and determination. She wins these showdowns every time. She is quite proud of her hunting prowess. Laughing is not allowed.
The New Year celebration will begin tomorrow. I have always found this particular event difficult to capture.
I remember, as a child, observing the parties and drunkenness that represented the family New Year's Celebration. There was nothing there that I aspired to, no spark of recognition, or desire. To be short, and wandering amongst the legs of large and impaired bipeds, was in no way a happy experience.
Raiding the abandoned buffet table at three a.m. did hold some appeal; although stepping over slightly smelly, inert adults to get to the food presented some challenges. On the bright side, I can credit the New Year with my first exposure to Sweet Gherkin Pickles.
To this day, at a party, my first instinct will be to locate the security of the buffet table, however humble it may be.
Once grown, and master of my own holiday plans, New Year's Eve became a more welcome event. Avoiding parties, the way I chose to celebrate the New Year was at home, with a quiet drink and retrospective of the year past. When young children spent this holiday in my care, we spent the evening skating or tobogganing, then enjoying a game or movie with hot chocolate and goodies.
Attila and I will do the "easy-chair/feet-up/quiet-drink" sort of thing.
The past year was one of adjustment to change; change at many levels. World politics changed with September 11, 2001, and the year 2002 saw that change percolate into many aspects our social fabric. Personal politics changed; Attila and I spent our first childless year, cohabiting only as adults, and not as parents. This too, percolated slowly into the fabric of everyday life.
The last twelve months have seen Ariel's health remain sound, her spirits high. This gift from the universe is received with gratitude.
Ah, and what of the year to come? I make no resolutions, but instead implore the universe to grant my wish.
Attila departs before light, we part at the open door. The stars still shine for wishing in the early morning. Each new day, as I stand at the cold edge of winter, my wish is that I might find peace in "what-we-have", and that "we" might extend to everyone.
|RECIPES :: Cast
Blooms of the Season
By the Easy Chair
The Handbook of
Clans & Tartans
by Maria Constantino
"'Popeye the Sailorman' was the hero of a pre-war strip-cartoon (published in this country by the Daily Mirror), who acquired enormous physical strength by the internal application of canned spinach. He was accompanied by a female, Olive Oyl, of dubious charm but indisputable fidelity."
from The Day Gone By: An Autobiography
by Richard Adams,
On the Screen
Mr. Holland's Opus
starring Richard Dreyfuss
Wind: SE 19 km/h
Sunrise 7:55 AM EST
Sunset 4:58 PM EST
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