Don't Let the Door Hit You...2013

It's easy to think badly of 2013 because it had some low points, but any year that leaves you still standing on the very last day isn't all bad. Still, I'm glad to have a brand new year in which to continue the good fight. Important things will take place in the 12 months that lie before us. Things like: hiking, camping, writing, family visits, reading, time with friends, and a hundred more things at least. I put hiking and camping first because those activities always improve the mind and the mood which are necessary for all the others that follow.

I'm well-stocked with books and companionship. A nice bit of non-monetary wealth to begin the year. Not so well-stocked with free time. Maybe one of my resolutions will be to quit whining about having time for myself. (You can only hope)

Have a wonderful New Year's Eve and, more importantly, make tomorrow a memorable day. Start off on the right path then stick to it.

Lost in Space

The last time I wrote in my blog was December 8th. I got derailed by the season as its pace became frantic, demanding more time and energy than I could spare. Just before Thanksgiving, a new baby joined our cast of characters. Already tired out from Thanksgiving, I was dealing with a cat who was quite sick. That problem was brought under control, then she was diagnosed with diabetes. My mantra for a few weeks was, "Are you freaking kidding me?" While I was trying to maintain my orbit, my oldest granddaughter turned five. An important birthday for all concerned; a step over the threshold leaving babyish things behind and entering the domain of childhood proper. We had guests for a few days but they stayed in a hotel, making it a different style of visit. Less intimate. The winter solstice arced through our cold and dark psyches and was much-appreciated for all that this short day implies. Winter can never be over with unless it first begins. Christmas happened. I always feel like I've had my head held under in a barrel of water until Christmas arrives. On Christmas morning, the hand holding me down is lifted and I can breathe again. I don't think this is in any way a proper feeling to have about Christmas, but that's my truth. In fact, it occurs to me that the barrel has become part of my holiday ritual. Guess I'd better do something about that. New Year's Eve is tomorrow and I love the arrival of each and every new year. Beats the hell out of the alternative, eh? I'm one of those fools who makes resolutions. It seems like most people think it's a waste of time, or maybe all the people who love making their hopeful lists are too busy fine-tuning that new set of goals to care what the naysayers are nattering on about. I accomplish, in part, most of my resolutions. I've even added a new dimension to my ritual: a condensed history of 2013 to remind  future me what was going on during these years that have started going by so fast.

I don't feel lost in space any longer. My trajectory is improving, getting further from earth's gravity so I can survive getting hit by any number of event-meteors, as long as they aren't too large. Splashdowns happen, and 2013 has brought several of my close friends into the troposphere. I've been there myself. Pretty soon earth's orbit will launch them back into the stratosphere where we all belong.

The newest member of our tribe

Indoctrination

Stay strong.

A Dreary Sky With Perfect Snow

It's another freezing cold day. Snow is falling in a delicate slow descent, and the sky would be unbearably dreary if the tiny flakes weren't so perfect.

The phone rang last night. The caller I.D. showed it was an Ohio number and my heart took a dive. The only person I talk to in Ohio is my old friend who has early-onset Alzheimer's. She hasn't called me in years so my first thought was that her boyfriend was calling because something even worse had happened to her. I was surprised and relieved to hear her voice. She sounded happy and proud of herself for making the call. I couldn't understand her explanation about whatever her father did to "the line" so she could now make a long-distance phone call, but I was thrilled because she sounded so good. She lives in the hills of eastern Ohio by herself. I can't imagine living in the country, facing each day alone, with this horrible disease.

Last January, Kathy had a five hour operation to have the first brain pacemaker ever implanted. She volunteered for the study before the program was even looking for prospective participants. When I look back on our friendship of many years, I can see that she always was brave and independent. I hope she never loses those qualities.

Kathy and Mike canoeing with us in the Boundary Waters

Good Weather for Reindeer

No sunshine to brighten up the morning so far. So much white everywhere I look. I think I'll make Chile Verde for dinner tonight. Nothing like chilies on a cold day.

The ice is on the inside of my bedroom window. 

December's First Friday

Siberia's gift is still lingering in Colorado. It's an arctic blast, the likes of which were last felt here in 1972. The sun is out, making the roads clear and lifting spirits. I should be shoveling the sidewalk, but I'm going out to meet some friends for coffee. (How typical of me.) The cold takes my breath away whenever I go outside. I imagine that this is what Alaska is like. The Norwegians have a saying: There is no bad weather, just bad clothing.

I would love to be a winter bookbinder.

Summer will happen again, but sooner would be better than later.

Roses in December

"God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December." J.M. Barrie

As much as I make use of the plethora of foodstuffs available year-round in the most mundane grocery store, I still miss the way the presence of strawberries and asparagus once enhanced any dinner table simply because they were rare, seasonal treats. It's the same with roses. We can now have roses any time at all. They seldom have the heavy aroma of quality cut roses, but now everyone can have the occasional luxury of fresh flowers if they so desire. So, the J.M. Barrie quote is less than apopros, I still enjoy the sentiment.

We've had unusually warm and sunny weather lately. T'aint natural. Still, anything that makes the winter season more bearable is okay by me. Thanksgiving, my favorite holiday, has come and gone. Our family in Seattle didn't join us this year, and this year's festivities never took off without them here to liven things up. I hope I'll have a chance to have a Thanksgiving-in-August next year. It might be fun to barbecue a turkey. We were fortunate to have friends join us; something we should do more often. One thing I'm thankful for, besides my family and friends, is the opportunity to use the word plethora today. It's an awesome word.

I'm reading the new Jack London biography, and interspersing it with The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt. Both books are good reading, but The Goldfinch is excellent. It's the kind of book that is like a rich dessert. I have to periodically set the book down and savor certain lines because they are so complex, and rich enough to make your teeth hurt.

If I had the opportunity, I would commission an oil painting of red roses to hang on the wall of my dining room. It would have a gold frame. My memory of roses in December could use the jump-start, and it's always a good idea to behold something beautiful every single day of your life. 

A beautiful sunset this evening. Winter isn't all bad. It isn't really bad at all most of the time.

There....I admitted it.