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“May all your troubles last as long as your New Year’s resolutions.”

January 2, 2015

Using Gracie as a barometer, I figure the day is a warm one, more inviting than the last few. When she goes out, Gracie stays a good long time. The spit on her face is another indicator. It’s disgusting I know, but it tells me she’s been running, a joyful exercise for her. She hasn’t even had her morning nap yet. She’s back outside.

I started the sad task of putting away Christmas. It was a small first step.

I don’t remember celebrating the New Year my first year in Ghana. Christmas and Thanksgiving I remember and over Easter I traveled, but I’m thinking I was in bed at my usual time on that first New Year’s Eve. The only place in town where I might have gone was the Hotel d’Bull. It was the hot spot and even had a bar with an air-conditioner but you’d never know it, too many people were squeezed into what was called the cold room. The hotel had a courtyard, the scene of many jumps, dances to us. It was an easy walk downhill to the hotel from my house. We used to go see movies there, from the roof seats. The movies were always old or bad or both. I remember there was a jump on Good Friday so I’m guessing there must have been one on New Year’s Eve.

For my second New Year’s Eve I was in Ougadougou in Burkina Faso, called Upper Volta in my time. The ambassador from the US had invited any volunteers in town to his house for a party. The real guests, the diplomats, wore tuxedos or long dresses. Volunteers at that party were easy to recognize. We were the ones wearing dresses or shirts made of native cloth, and we didn’t mingle feeling just a bit out-of-place; regardless, that was the best party I ever attended in Africa. There was champagne, and the servers with white jackets and white gloves never let glasses get empty. The food was unbelievable. It was all the food I had been dreaming about and missing: ham, mashed potatoes, turkey and so many vegetables. I think I filled my plate at least twice, maybe more. I know my glass was never empty.

I have no long-range plans for 2015 except maybe winning the lottery. I just have to start buying tickets.

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“Year’s end is neither an end nor a beginning but a going on, with all the wisdom that experience can instill in us.”

December 30, 2014

No mistake about it. Winter has us in its clutches. It’s darn cold now and will go even lower tonight, to 19˚. The Christmas warmth must have been a gift from Mother Nature who is back to her old self again. As for me, I have to go out for an hour or so then I’m hurrying home to get cozy, nestle under the afghan and read. The laundry will sit in the hall another day.

This is the lame duck time of the year. Christmas is over and it’s not yet the new year. I guess it’s the week of reading new books and eating Christmas cookies. The weeks before Christmas were busy. There was baking, wrapping and decorating. The cards had to be addressed and they and the packages had to be sent. Every day had a bit of frantic about it. Christmas Day was making dinner then everything was over; everything was finished. I believe I heard a collective sigh of relief.

New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day demand no preparation. My days of partying, wearing conical hats and blowing noise makers are over. I have no need to join the revelers. In my younger days, I would have been at a party with a drink in hand and a silly hat on my head. Now I’ll be home wearing my pajamas. If I have the celebratory spirit, I can still wear a funny hat and have a drink in my hand. I will definitely watch the Times Square ball fall and I’ll yell Happy New Year.

I remember when I was little, I wanted to be awake for the New Year. My parents agreed, but only because they knew I’d never make it. Midnight was way beyond my usual bedtime. I sat on the couch wearing my hat and holding my noisemaker which I was not allowed to blow because the noise was driving my father crazy. I drank ginger ale and felt adult. I also fell asleep and missed wishing every one a Happy New Year.

I made no resolutions. I liked last year, and I’m happy. I am content with who I am.

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“Hope Smiles from the threshold of the year to come, Whispering ‘it will be happier’…”

December 31, 2013

A dusting of snow was the surprise this morning. I first noticed it on the tree branches outside my bedroom window. The weatherman must have been so intent on the Thursday-Friday storm he forgot to mention this dusting, probably too little to notice.

It is cold. We have no sun for the third day in a row, and I’m beginning to forget what it looks like. All I see is a foreboding sky with dark, bare branches silhouetted against it. 

I intent to stay inside all day today. Yesterday I did a couple of errands so I’m all set. Warmth and comfort are all I seek. I have a book to keep me occupied and laundry to do if I feel any need to be industrious, but the laundry has been sitting in plain sight a couple of days so that’s not likely. I am in my coziest clothes, the coffee is freshly brewed and the larder is sufficient. 

I have no plans for tonight. When I was younger, I always celebrated on New Year’s Eve, usually at a party with a few friends. A couple of times I went to First Night in Boston and once in Reading, a town north of Boston. More than not, though, I just stayed home. My mother always called to wish me a Happy New Year. 

I don’t make resolutions. I used to but was horrific at keeping them. Now I just hope that every new year is better than the last and that I stay healthy and happy. That seems to be more than enough. 

I wish you all the happiest of new year’s and thanks for hanging around for another year!

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“New Year’s Day is every man’s birthday.”

January 1, 2012

Happy New Year!

I remember when I was a kid, I was thrilled when I first stayed up until midnight on New Year’s Eve. It was a struggle, but I made it. New Year’s Day, however, seemed no different from any other day so I didn’t quite understand all the hoopla. Now, each year is another notch in my belt. I stay up without any trouble and watch the ball descend and hope to remember to change the year when I write out checks.

Today is still far too warm for winter at 48°. I remember a few years ago we had a terrific snow storm on New Year’s Eve, but this winter so far has been a bust. We had a sprinkling of flakes one afternoon, but they disappeared when they hit the ground. Mind you, I’m not complaining, wondering is all.

I can vividly bring to mind so many milestones in my life, and each New Year some of those jump out at me, and I remember becoming me.

I remember wanting to be thirteen, a magic number. It was like a giant step moving from twelve to thirteen. All of a sudden I was a teenager. The world was in front of me. I figured I’d have my first kiss, my first boyfriend, first slow dance, high hair-do and nylon stockings, and I got most of them.

After thirteen,  I couldn’t wait to be sixteen. I knew all the songs about sweet sixteen, and I had high expectations. Most of those weren’t met, but I was okay. The world was still in front of me. On the horizon was the end of high school and the beginning of college.

I loved college. I loved learning; I loved my friends, and I love the parties. We had a great time just about every weekend. Senior year was the year of Friday happy hour get-togethers at the bar owned by a friend’s father. It was a weekly tradition to be packed in that bar and take turns passing the trays of food over our heads to one another. It was a great way to start to say good-bye.

The Peace Corps was next, a defining time in my life. I had planned on applying since my junior year, and I did in October of my senior year. It wasn’t a long wait. In January I knew I was going to Africa. I couldn’t believe it.

The longest stretch of time in my life was from that January until the Sunday in June when I left for staging. When I arrived in Ghana, I was amazed, mouth opened amazed at everything I saw. My entire experience was like that: a joy, amazement. The two years went far too quickly.

When I came home, I had no job, but I found one and stayed at that same school for 33 years then I retired.

That brings me to now. I can’t find all the right words to say how much I look forward to each day. I wake up, go downstairs, make my coffee and then read the papers. Every day starts the same, but I am never bored.

Today starts another year of being retired, of having the world still in front of me. I can hardly wait.

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“There is hope in dreams, imagination, and in the courage of those who wish to make those dreams a reality.”

December 31, 2010

Last night I decided to change my sleeping arrangements. Of late I have been having heavy duty pains at night and, having no one to blame, I blamed my bed. Last night I sat up quite comfortably on the couch with my feet on the table and fell asleep until 3, the bewitching hour when the pains usually arrive. They didn’t. I woke up at 4 and at 5. I guess I was subconsciously checking. Nothing happened. I finally woke at the hour of 11 and am fine-no leg pains. Now the other possible culprit is sitting at the computer so I am now on the couch writing long range. I’ll see what happens tomorrow.

In my youth we had wild New Year’s Eve parties. Actually all our parties were wild, but for New Year’s Eve we at least had an excuse and the party had a name. By the time the countdown began we were holding on to each other and a bottle of anything we could find. We were a wild group back then, and we loved to party.

The last couple of years my friends and I did a progressive party starting at one house then to another and finally moving along to the end house. It was fun.

Tonight I’ll celebrate here. I’ll give my sister a New Year’s call then I’ll go to bed. The changing times make me feel a little old. I could never replicate the raucous. That was a far younger me. That was the party me. I laugh at some of our antics, and I smile at the fun we had. I think the New Year does that. It makes us look both forward and backward.

I never make resolutions. I’m terrible at keeping them. I do hope for more fun times with friends, maybe a trip or two and some long leisurely days on the deck.

I  wish and hope for peace, but that never comes true and I sometimes get tired of wishing for it, but I’m afraid to stop. I figure every wish counts.

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