Auld Lang Syne

Well, here we are again. Another year is coming to an end, and a decade, too. All the television channels are showing retrospectives of “The Best Of…“ All the folk who try to keep the peace are on high alert. Taxi drivers are already spending the night’s tips. And people everywhere are getting together to celebrate and bring in the New Year--or perhaps already have. It is always bittersweet to see the year draw to a close. Some years more than others. This is the last day of the last year I still had a grandparent. This is the last year my original baby, Addison, will be a pre-teen. This is the end of the year my new baby, Scarlett, turned two. And so on. But, this is also the last year that Nick had work to do on his degree. And the end of a really tough decade of turmoil for many of us. So, what face to bring to the new year? There is a temptation to look back at unresolved resolutions from past years and lament what went awry, but the temptation to feel powerful in the face of possibility is stronger on this one day. We all believe that the new year will bring a new us--better than we have been, and stronger. In Ann Braybrooks’ King Of The Beasties, Tigger becomes king of the Hundred Acre Woods for just a moment--and it is a moment full of potential. A blessed new year to us all.

http://www.paperbackswap.com/King-Beasties-Winnie-Ann-Braybrooks/book/0307988201/

http://www.amazon.com/Ann-Braybrooks/e/B001ITRIC0

When The Clock Strikes Twelve

For me, there is more tradition wrapped up in New Year’s than any other holiday--even Christmas. Sure, I have childhood memories of frosting sugar cookies and putting ornaments on the tree, but, somehow, the stuff we did at New Year’s has escaped the tarnish that comes with looking at the past through adult eyes. There were so many cool things that rang in the new year. Long ago, my dad, police officer by profession but Wild West gunsmith in his heart, crafted a breadbox-sized brass cannon that just begged to be shot off at midnight. He would position it in the middle of the deserted street and do all the patch and powder preparations while holding a match between in his teeth (perhaps this is where my fascination with things macho started), aim it away from the crowd (well, me, my brothers, and whatever friends were spending the night), and…BOOM!!!!! It was so loud and visceral that it simultaneously scared the stuffing out of me and made me feel a little more alive (see: “fascination with things macho” above). We stayed up late, watched the ball drop, drank a ton of normally-forbidden ginger ale, and got up early to watch the Rose Parade through bleary eyes. All things considered, a banner twenty-four hours. Nick chose to read “Happy New Year” from Disney’s My Very First Winnie The Pooh Growing Up Stories, which I wouldn’t have done because it’s not January. But daddies build cannons and read recklessly…they are wild men.

http://www.librarything.com/work/468501

http://www.paperbackswap.com/Kathleen-W-Zoehfeld/author/