Happy New Year!

It is a pretty day. I woke up to a couple of inches of snow. It was cloudy then, but the sun has taken over the blue sky and chased away the clouds at least for the meantime. It is 24°, an uninviting temperature. It is also the high for the day. I’ll be quite content to stay home and watch the day pass through the windows.

I won’t clear off my car because of the cold and because I have no interest in clearing it. I have no obligations, no appointments until Tuesday. I hope by then or even sooner I’ll have the energy to attack the car. I know I’ll have no choice.

I live with 3 pets, two dogs and a cat. The dogs had a rocky start and some scary fights. I got more injured than they though Nala had a drain and the cone of shame. They have not fought for a long time. Henry will growl at Nala every now and then as a comment on her unacceptable behavior, and she knows enough to stop. They sleep beside each other and Henry often rests his head on her stomach. She just sleeps.

Henry is my protector. He growls and barks at anything he sees or imagines as dangerous or needing warning to keep away. If it is a frantic bark, Nala will join him.

When I was a kid, our boxer Duke was fiercely protective of the four of us kids. Even if we were playing with my dad, Duke would put his mouth around my dad’s wrist and just leave it there until he unhanded us. I remember once during a storm Duke barked fiercely, scarily. We opened the inside door and saw a guy walking in the rain and the wind. If we hadn’t held Duke, he might have gone through the screen at the guy and started barking at him and scaring him. We knew Duke wouldn’t hurt the guy but that guy didn’t know. It was easiest to hold him and shut the door.

My dad always said not to stop my dogs from barking. He called them my DEW line. I should thank and compliment them he told me. My father never heard Henry. He was never confronted with a dog who sounds ready to tear you apart. But Henry is mouth, a constant mouth sometimes. He is standoffish with company in the house. He’ll even get friendly. Nala is always friendly. I get to a breaking point and physically quiet Henry by patting him and distracting him. It always works. But he can still drive me crazy.

I have no expectations for the new year. The possible outcomes, short and long, seem to be still maybes. I’ll never understand that. The damage so far has been widespread, targeted. It has to stop. I would love some hope.

The day seems a bit nicer than it has been. We have sun and a mostly blue sky, but it is still cold at 31°. The dogs are my barometers. They are out and back inside quickly on the coldest days. They are dogs who prefer comfy and cozy. They tend to nap upstairs on my bed. They are most assuredly my dogs.

I never make New Year resolutions. They go hand in hand with giving something up for Lent. I am never successful at either so I ignore them both.

The only thing on my dance card is a concert tonight, two one hour concerts at First Night in Chatham. We are singing the dance book and a bit of Jimmy Buffett. I’ll wear glitter.

When I was a kid, the only thing I noticed about the new year was the need to change the date on my school papers. It took a couple of days.

Some of the extraordinary things I have seen are simple things that I never imagined seeing. I remember my first palm tree. I’m from New England. We don’t do tropical. That palm tree was in Winneba on the coast. I saw it just after I woke up on my first morning in Ghana. I just stood there. The palm trees were beside family compounds. I was in awe. I was in Africa. It was the same about pineapples and bananas. I had only seen them on grocery shelves, never on trees. Those fruits started my adventure into a place so wonderful that even just fruits become the stuff of legends.

I think my favorite ride of all was in the hot air balloon. We moved with the wind. We cast shadows on the lawns and streets. We scared the pigs on the pig farm. They ran in one large group in a wave away from the balloon. People in pajamas and robes ran outside to see us, to see all 5 of the balloons drifting above them. It was a glorious sight from my balloon.

I love trains. My favorite train ride was on the autobus from Quito to Guayaquil. It was a train car converted to a bus but still riding on a rail. The scenery was spectacular. I saw the snow-capped Andes, bananas growing, herds of llamas and even a switchback. The bus was filled with people. Those standing in the aisle sat and hid on the floor if we went through a town. The driver would blow his horn to warn people walking on the tracks to get off. People did. Many animals didn’t. I stopped looking out the window.

I have come to recognize that life is a series of adventures. You just have to notice. Stop and smell the pineapples.