I used the holiday to bring loads of laundry up and down to the basement with H.--dirty on way down, clean and full of promise on way up. To fold and hang my clothes that were piling up in bedroom. To take down the Christmas tree, which was so dry that it looked like a bent-over freak of nature after the Grinch stole all the ornaments.
I love rediscovering old treasures when we put Christmas up [the fat, glittery partridge and Woolworth's red plastic Santa from my Irish grandma, the sparkly gold boot from my Italian grandma], but it feels fresh and new to reclaim your living room once you put everything away and sweep up the pine needles.
Some big casualties this year, though. When I was away a couple days in Colorado, the tree tipped over and crashed to the floor, and some of our favorite ornaments broke. The beautiful pink ballerina that I bought at Bergdorf Goodman when Figgy was tiny lost her legs; H. is going to try and glue them back on. The Santa ornament with glittery clock dangling underneath [I bought it one year for H.] lost its timepiece. And the angel-perched-on-a-long-icicle frosted glass ornament that Santa hung on a bough for Figgy one year is now just the angel--with one wing. Oh well. The remnants are still hangable from their golden gossamer loops.
It matters less that the fake angels are whole and intact than that the real angels in our midst--and they're there if we look at the people we love--are still allowed to be seen and be cherished.
I'm glad I got all of this cleanup done so that I can carve out good time to write and research tomorrow--and start by picking a freshly hung outfit to wear for a productive workday from home.
Good night.
TCOY
I love rediscovering old treasures when we put Christmas up [the fat, glittery partridge and Woolworth's red plastic Santa from my Irish grandma, the sparkly gold boot from my Italian grandma], but it feels fresh and new to reclaim your living room once you put everything away and sweep up the pine needles.
Some big casualties this year, though. When I was away a couple days in Colorado, the tree tipped over and crashed to the floor, and some of our favorite ornaments broke. The beautiful pink ballerina that I bought at Bergdorf Goodman when Figgy was tiny lost her legs; H. is going to try and glue them back on. The Santa ornament with glittery clock dangling underneath [I bought it one year for H.] lost its timepiece. And the angel-perched-on-a-long-icicle frosted glass ornament that Santa hung on a bough for Figgy one year is now just the angel--with one wing. Oh well. The remnants are still hangable from their golden gossamer loops.
It matters less that the fake angels are whole and intact than that the real angels in our midst--and they're there if we look at the people we love--are still allowed to be seen and be cherished.
I'm glad I got all of this cleanup done so that I can carve out good time to write and research tomorrow--and start by picking a freshly hung outfit to wear for a productive workday from home.
Good night.
TCOY
- Let myself sleep late. Very, very late. As in, I don't know if I've slept this late since I was a very tired college freshman and Saturday finally rolled around.
- Went to follow-up appointment to discuss breast biopsy. Went well.
- Lit candles once darkness fell; looked pretty.
- Dusted, again so I could get the cobwebs out of my head today and not be bogged down by them when I sit down to work tomorrow.
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