How do I feel about January? Today’s title says it. Off to a new year, new projects, ideas about how we can all do better or, at least, not do worse.
It’s Sunday afternoon as I write this. We still have all our holiday decorations up and the table is set for the first family Sunday supper of the year. Holiday music streams on my computer. But on Monday, the day you will read this, we will take down our tree, put away the ornaments, candles, tablecloths, dishes. We will find places for the gifts we received, take the wreath off the front door. And I know I will feel a little melancholy as I put away the evidence that another holiday season has passed, feel a little older and that the house is too quiet. I’ll ache for my kids to be back home, tromping through the front door with snow on their feet and packages in their hands.
But then I’ll look around and think about how clean it feels in here, how much space we have when everything is put away, how this particular holiday season was a very happy one with family and friends, and how lucky we are. Our first Sunday supper of 2016 will have done the work of wrapping everything up, bringing us around the table to use the Christmas dishes one last time and to plan family time for the year to come. And I already know that I’ll think damn, I have recipes I want to try and poems I need to write and there are submissions in slush at Gyroscope Review for the spring issue already and I need to keep my camera charged because you never know when the next photo op will appear. I’ll be thinking about the Pacific Northwest, where we will head several months from now via car because a road trip has been lodged in my head for a while; Mick and I spent New Year’s Eve planning it while we fondued shrimp. We opened the road atlas he gave me for Christmas and traced our fingers along possible routes while others were out drinking champagne to welcome the new year.
Oh, I should admit it now, while I’m writing: I’m already thinking ahead. I’m already off on this year’s path.