Post holidays, thank God
Since Christmas day, we’ve had Christmas again, with my family this time, gotten the kids settled in their new room, which looks very nice, and finished any cleaning that really needed to be done. Chris and I took the decorations and tree down today, and I am so glad that we’re done with this holiday. Laura’s friend Adeleigh is spending the night with us tonight, so we’ll have three kids the first day of 2005. Poor Will has been getting run off by his big sister all night, but finally he got happy playing by himself with the various new Buzz Lightyear toys my mom and sister-in-law gave him. Every once in a while I hear Buzz telling his arch enemy Zurg, “Bye, I love you.”
As for the grown ups: Chris is going kayaking tomorrow, and I’m going to read. A book. For purely entertainment purposes. Sometimes I think I don’t remember how. In the living room of our first apartment in Alabama, we had this large, very poorly insulated picture window that faced west. It stayed cold in winter and hot in summer. I used to lie on the floor in front of the window and just bake in the afternoon sun while I read—sometimes I would get a headache from the glare, but I loved the warmth. I never read for school there, only for pleasure. We moved out of that apartment before Laura was born, so it was always quiet (except when the upstairs neighbors were fighting or blasting their stereo). Our house here is lovely, and I’m very fond of it, although it’s a little too small. But it doesn’t have a westward window.
Only a few hours til 2005. I keep hearing fireworks outside the window, and I am pretty sure that’s going to be all of the New Year’s festivities I hear. In all the writing I did about Christmas, did I mention it was my birthday? I think I did. I’m not 40 yet, but getting there rapidly, and I feel it tonight. The good thing about getting old is you don’t really care if you can’t stay up til midnight anyhow—but I’m not quite to the point where I don’t think about it yet. Funny. 2004 was a long, long year. Most of them aren’t anymore. Here’s hoping 2005 speeds by happily.
As for the grown ups: Chris is going kayaking tomorrow, and I’m going to read. A book. For purely entertainment purposes. Sometimes I think I don’t remember how. In the living room of our first apartment in Alabama, we had this large, very poorly insulated picture window that faced west. It stayed cold in winter and hot in summer. I used to lie on the floor in front of the window and just bake in the afternoon sun while I read—sometimes I would get a headache from the glare, but I loved the warmth. I never read for school there, only for pleasure. We moved out of that apartment before Laura was born, so it was always quiet (except when the upstairs neighbors were fighting or blasting their stereo). Our house here is lovely, and I’m very fond of it, although it’s a little too small. But it doesn’t have a westward window.
Only a few hours til 2005. I keep hearing fireworks outside the window, and I am pretty sure that’s going to be all of the New Year’s festivities I hear. In all the writing I did about Christmas, did I mention it was my birthday? I think I did. I’m not 40 yet, but getting there rapidly, and I feel it tonight. The good thing about getting old is you don’t really care if you can’t stay up til midnight anyhow—but I’m not quite to the point where I don’t think about it yet. Funny. 2004 was a long, long year. Most of them aren’t anymore. Here’s hoping 2005 speeds by happily.
posted by Lisa at 12/31/2004 09:53:00 PM
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