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This Is The End

December 31, 2014

Happy Thank God 2014 Is Over!

Don’t get me wrong – I’m a rose colored glasses kind of gal and a lot of lovely moments occurred this year.  But without getting into personal details, I am very, very happy to turn the proverbial blank page, as are many of my nearest and dearest.  My sister and I joked that we should write one of those “Bobby was made captain of his T-ball team this year!” Christmas letters with lots of exclamation points and smiley emoticons, but actually telling it like it really was this time.  Viewed from the right lens, it would have been both heartbreaking and hysterical.  Like a Christopher Guest movie.   But we’re lazy (or busy, or both) and not everyone on the Christmas card list is in possession of the right lens. 

Moving on.  For the whopping three of you who read this blog (Hey!  Look at that little icon on the bottom right side of your screen where you can sign up to receive notifications when I write things down!), I apologize for my absence of late. I’m two months past a surgery that knocked me out of commission for a good long while.  The last few weeks have been spent celebrating milestones like “Walk to the bathroom on your own!”, “Take a shower without using the tub chair!”, “Lift something that weighs more than a pillow!” and “Scoop the litterbox all by yourself!”. Very recently we hit my favorite so far: “Wear Real Pants!”

 

Luckily, I am currently in possession of a wonderful mama and a very patient boyfriend who made my convalescence much more tolerable.  Also a best friend who understands me well enough to know that when my mobility is hampered I will lay there and scrutinize dust motes until I go insane – she showed up to vacuum regularly.  Bless her.

 

Hey, also, have you ever heard of Meal Train?  It’s this great system where folks can sign up online to bring dinners to injured or bereaved or recovering friends.  A dear buddy of mine set it up for me and I had deliciousness show up at my house every night for two weeks straight.  This, coupled with my mom staying here for an additional two weeks, equaled me lying on my back for a month, eating all day.  I have promised myself that I won’t step on the scale until I’m able to be back at yoga for at least a month. It’s a sanity thing. 

 

My new favorite quote from Anne Lamott: "Getting on a scale is like asking Dick Cheney to give you a sense of your own self-worth every morning.

 

Besides eating? I took a lot of pictures of my cats, who continue to be very confused as to why they can’t climb in my lap:

 

And I designed my garage remodel:

 

Anyway, it was a low-key holiday season for us here at the homestead and that was just fine by me.  I was able to scrape together enough energy to do things like sit upright in one place and make wreaths. 

 

For the big stuff, I conscripted helpers.  They took it very seriously,

The boy and I also threw a nice holiday cocktail party.  The menu went was a blast to plan. My goal was to serve an absolutely massive amount of food, none of which required utensils. 

 

Lumpia Shanghai – (Filipino Spring Rolls) with multiple dipping sauces

Tiny Twice-Baked Potatoes (so cute!)
Crab and Artichoke Dip with cracked pepper crackers
Lox rolls with cream cheese and herbs
Thyme-Roasted Marcona Almonds
Sautéed Chorizo with tempranillo sauce and crusty bread
Manchego Cheese Marinated in Olive Oil & Herbs
Cranberry Thyme Gin and Tonic with fresh cranberry puree
Pomegranate, Mint & Champagne Punch
Gaelic Punch (Hot Spiced Whiskey)

Hand-dipped Chocolates

It knocked me out for about three days to put it all together, but come on – yummy.

 

Christmas day started out like this:

 

And ended like this:

 

Tonight is New Year’s Eve.  I will be spending it at my home, with one of my nearest and dearest, sharing a bottle of champagne and (hopefully) going to sleep early.

 

I’ve never been much for the whole resolution thing, or for thinking that the flip of the calendar signifies anything but a different picture hanging on your wall. The numbers 2-0-1-5 are arbitrary in terms of any personal change or growth if you don’t work towards making those things happen yourself. The numbers 2-0-1-5 do not signify that tragedy can’t or won’t happen again. But right now I think it’s psychologically necessary for a lot of us to picture them representing the comforting cliché of our choosing.  A light at the end of the tunnel.  A blank page.  A deep, cleansing breath. Something small, something important. My entire resolution thus far is to wake up tomorrow, healthy and well-rested, with a smile on my face.  Let’s do this.

 

My love to all and Happy New Year.

 

Cheers,

-Greta

 

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