What with the multiple ER trips (for That Sweet Pea O' Mine, for asthma), a rib injury (for The-Guy, although it was not skiing that did him in, but in a snowball fight a day or two later) vacation wasn't as carefree as I had imagined. But it was still a very, very nice trip.
We skied. We read the paper. We had a New Year's party. Or we helped Mom and Dad have a New Year's party. Although, I wasn't actually all that much help. Sometimes I make a New Year's resolution though.
One year my resolution was to start liking whiskey. It took me more than one year to accomplish, but I'm glad I did it because it saves a lot of calories. Another year I resolved to start saying more swear words, but that didn't really take.
This year I'm resolving to stop gasping. Y'know, like when you suddenly remember that some big project or assignment is due in an hour? My brother says it causes excess adrenaline, and I barely know what to do with the adrenaline I've already got, so I'm trying to go cold turkey on the gasping. That Sweet Pea O' Mine says she's going to help me by flicking me every time I gasp.
I used to put a lot of emotional energy into whether or not our New Year's party traditions were maintained, but I'm mostly over that now. If my brother pours a champagne tower wearing a silly hat, I'm about as happy as can be. Unless there's music and singing and dancing. Then I'm even happier than can be.
One year we even canceled the New Years party altogether, and merely had people over for food and drinks and music and decorations and dancing. And that is totally different from having a party. Because it is. I don't know why.
Here are some pictures from New Year's past:
New Year's Eve, 1979, Little Rock, Arkansas
New Year's Eve, 1980-something, Sharon, Vermont:New Year's Eve, 1993, Sharon, Vermont:I'd wish everyone a happy New Year, but I think I've already done that on my last two posts. So I'll just wish anyone who saw midnight or beyond a speedy recovery on the sleep front!