The new year has arrived and the vestiges of Christmas have been safely tucked away. Even though we have had our decorations and tree up since Thanksgiving, it always seems like a whirlwind, like the ambiance of the season paid only a brief visit. Before you know it, it’s time to take everything down, the tree relegated to the back yard, a fine refuge for birds.
I sit here in my barren living room, and the place always appears larger when the décor of December is stored. Now the easy chair has been returned to its perch near the front window, and the rocking chair has been reinstated near the TV. The cats have missed it, as they frolic within its legs, pouncing on toy mice that lurk in the recesses of a scratching post.
The new year is indeed here, and back to some choice writing. During the month of December, I managed only 13,000 words toward my novel (whereas November, and NANOWRIMO, contained over 50,000 words) but now that the festivities have concluded, it’s back to the keyboard.
I just wanted to share a few thoughts on the conclusion to this most celebratory time of year, from the initial anticipation of unraveling tissues filled with baubles and gewgaws for the tree, to wrapping presents for loved ones, to the sense of melancholy when the season has ended and Christmas songs and the glitter and decorations that festooned the walls must come down.
When everything is safely put away ‘til next year, and the house appears sparse, it always reminds me of a scene from the Grinch. It’s when he’s already confiscated the decor and then he shoves the tree up the chimney. He returns to snatch the last crumb from a flummoxed rodent. That’s how bare our dwelling feels. (Although there are no unsightly hooks and wires left to behold.)
Yes, the Yule season has ended, but 2013 is upon us. A brand new year filled with…well, filled with what?
What will you do in the next 361 days?
May the new year bring you many surprises, laughter, and peace of mind.