We are ready to usher in Twenty-twelve.... the old ashes have been added to the fire, the blackeyed peas are on the stovetop with the bone of Christmas ham. There'll be greens and cornbread, deviled eggs and iced tea, also some oyster chowder from the Mister's familial tradition.
I have -- as of the end of the week -- received word that I will return to my job for the remainder of the year (hurrah!!) and our precious Diggy has but two radiation treatments left and upcoming appointments with her specialists at Vanderbilt. The boy is ready to return to first grade, the Mister is in job search mode, and I feel certain he will find just the right thing.
We had a wonderfully restorative Christmas with my family -- simple, quiet, family filled. Three things that do NOT tend to go together with my family, and yet we pulled it off!
The Mister got in a quick trip northerly to visit with his people, including his sister in from London (the boy and I remained here to complete the school year and to have him cycle through the vestiges of a viral infection before heading to see Diggy, whose fragility necessitates healthy visitors.)
The Mister and I have watched some of this year's series, the old BBC miniseries, I, Claudius.
We have embarked on a major clutter busting project, wherein I've determined to rid myself of all but the most precious books and CDs, to gain space and lessen our capacity for dust. The Mister hasn't agreed to follow suit completely, but he's on board to eliminate and consolidate a bit, for the overall health of our family. And after a decade, I readily admit that the man still surprises me. I love that about him.
Happy New Year, friends!! May 2012 be a year filled with riches of the heart. My son's precious wishes, made last night at our bonfire were NOT for a Wii and a bunch of toys, but for 1) Diggy to get better very soon, 2) us to get our house moved and organized (switching around some rooms to accomodate current family need) and 3) for a LOT more family time. Those are the things that make his six year old heart sing. May you find your very own version of whatever those wishes, hopes and dreams are for YOU.
Twenty-twelve, we are ready.... let's get to it.
The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
~ Rumi ~
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