I have been thoroughly betwixt and between for the past 10 days - a couple of days here, a night there - hither and yon from home to my mother's house, to my in-law's house, to my father's house - with stops at various and sundry holiday parties and dinners at friends. The Christmas presents received are piled up in the living room, as yet to be absorbed into their proper spots in the house. Don't ask me where the clean laundry is.
So, Slouchy's post today, in which she rounded up the year just ended by quoting from the first lines of each of the first posts of the twelve months of 2008, seemed perfect fodder for filching.
In November, the subway posters from Poetry in Motion were running a poem by Vera Pavlova, one that had been published in the New Yorker last summer.
The poem, about desire and regret, was completely apropos for each and every marking of the new year.
Remember part one, about the pile of books that I'm currently reading? I've finished Decca and Organic Housekeeping (and, I dare say, Decca never cleaned a house in her life).
Frightening. This was a post about a pile of books waiting to be read. Of the nineteen listed in that post, I've read five and I'm in the middle of two. So twelve of those books are untouched. Mind you, I've read plenty of other books that weren't in that pile, but still. First in, first out is apparently not the operating concept for my library management.
When I was raising my kids, I used to say that work was therapy for home and home was therapy for work. (Eleanor Clift in an interview with Deborah Solomon in yesterday's Times)
Way to go - this post started with a quote. So here, I'm quoting a quote of a quote?
Every year, the pre-school class at Miss M.'s daycare hatches eggs into chicks.
And, yes, the eggs hatched. So what else would be new?
After some trial and error, we've found some good aides to help our mother.
Despite its quotidian beginning, this was a funny post - mostly acerbic anecdotes about the care of our ill mother.
Herewith let it be known that, if a four and half year old child eats Carvel ice in a not-found-in-nature shade of intense turquoise blue, it will stain her face and hands and legs, and, on the following day, it will cause her poop to be blue.
A two sentence post, the above being the first sentence.
Ooh, a pink popsicle from the queen of pink!
That queen of pink would be the inimitable Niobe, but that was probably supposed to be a secret.
I tend towards the stoic, I tend to hide my emotions.
The first house that I remember living in was one of four nearly identical little houses in a row.
Gum. If you don't know what to bring to a potluck, bring gum.
Her: Mommy, why do you have hair on your parts?
Okay, I cheated. The first line of the post was actually a stage direction of sorts. But this is the first line of content.
Here’s the thing about meatloaf – it doesn’t need a recipe, it needs an attitude.
I could say that about a lot of things. I could also, and may, make some more exhortations about food.
Every year, I make the same three new year's resolutions:
And here we are again: New Year's Day.
I wish you all a lovely 2009, full of joy and peace and luck and love.