Happy New
Year!
Have you put
away the holiday decorations yet? Around here, there’s always at least one
thing that gets forgotten in the clean-up that ends up spending the entire year
by its lonesome self on a shelf inside the coat closet. This year, there were
two items overlooked by Mr. Fastidious (he was in charge this year, and much
more thorough than I am). First, I noticed my neighbor’s door wreath as I
looked through the circle of my own. Then, I pondered how long both wreaths
might remain on display as I savored a piece of chocolate I’d chosen from a
wicker Santa bowl, still on my dining room table. Not bad, I’d say, considering
the number of remnants we’re likely to find around the yard after an Easter Egg
Hunt.
Honestly, I’m
not a whip-cracker. See, I’ve been
relegated to the proverbial ‘observation deck’ since mid-December when I
discovered coffee doesn’t exactly enable me to leap tall buildings, as
evidenced that fateful morning I tripped over a measly step stool and broke my
shoulder. They should have named me Grace. Nevertheless, this new and
thankfully temporary vantage point has afforded an extraordinary perspective on
holiday celebrations.
Did you tear
up the town or block out the sound of New Year celebrations? I don’t think I’ve
stayed up until midnight since Y2K. We were, however, awakened not long after
the Old Pueblo’s first annual “Taco Drop” this year by one of our dogs barking
at her own reflection in a window through which fireworks would have no doubt
bedazzled her a couple of hours earlier.
Most years,
I look forward to local and national recaps of the preceding year as they
invariably jog some potent memory wherein the best creative juices flow. Curiously, there seems an apparent reluctance
or ambivalence in recall, for very few sources deem last year at all notable, focusing instead on a decade of years already
reviewed after each one ended. I, for one, was paying attention.
For
instance, something made an historic landing on the far side of the moon (Hint:
it wasn’t Pink Floyd). A single infamous
summer made headlines for the 50th time. A few refreshing new trends
have emerged in the discarding of live/cut Christmas trees. One is the
placement of them, devoid of tinsel, lights, and ornaments, of course, in lakes
and waterways, providing shelter for young marine life. The other, an original
form of repurposing by a veteran and true American
Sunbeam, (and of special interest to me of late - ha!) is the creation of handcrafted
canes and walking sticks.
I didn’t get
around to making plans for the New Year before I was sidelined (so to speak),
but I have a list of writing projects waiting patiently in the wings for my
most anxious return. How about you? Did you make any resolutions you’d be
willing to shake on?
Throughout
history, handshakes generally acknowledged mutual agreement to a promise or a
deal or perhaps greeting a new friend. Shakespeare apparently had yet another
reason in mind when he wrote (Iliad) in reference to the settlement of a
conflict “Let’s not try to kill each
other” Clever placement of words, wouldn’t you say?
Happy Writing!
