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?