Finally 2013 has arrived and is firmly entrenched in our calendars and psyche.
Christmas 2012 is a compilation of — I hope — pleasant, happy memories.
The New Year’s resolutions have been compiled, examined, re-examined and weeded out. Some already have been relegated to the that-was-a-good-idea-but-it’ll-never-fly cupboard. Others still have a glimmer of life.
The greenery has come down from its spot on the mantle; the perennial Christmas stockings have been taken down and put back into their boxes for another year; the wreaths and stockings in the windows are down; the glitterati has been taken off the tree and stored and labeled. The Christmas placemats and tablecloth have been put away. The decorative Christmas candles have been carefully wrapped and stashed away in labeled boxes until next year. One lonely poinsettia has kept its spot on the end table, getting its nourishment from ice cube irrigation.
Our traditional Advent calendar has been taken off the entryway door and rolled up to await its resuscitation next December. The big Christmas wreath has been taken down from the front door, revealing the old brass knocker.
Just in case I needed any reminder that Christmas is history, I got it Monday morning on the way to the hospital for Margaret’s blood test. Countless bare Christmas trees had been stripped and hauled to the curb. This week the trees were streetside; last week it was boxes, boxes and more boxes with healthy doses of holiday wrapping paper adding an extra touch of color.
Some of the early Christmas bills have already started arriving (thank you, Santa, for a boost — although slight — in Social Security). Down deep, I know there are more on the way.
The big Catholic church on the corner has put away its Christmas carillon music while a handful of area churches combined Sunday afternoon for a concert marking the official end of the Christmas season. (Overall it was good, though there were a few rough spots.)
Conspicuously absent was our neighborhood New Year’s Eve party which traditionally wraps up when our neighbor/host fires his Civil War cannon. (I didn’t wear ear plugs last year, and it was probably two or three months before I got my hearing back. Note to myself: Don’t forget the ear plugs again.)
Our county snowplows are being equipped with GPS units that eventually will let us see where they are and what they’re doing. (The other side of that coin is we haven’t had enough snow yet for the trucks and the GPS project to get a real workout.)
We survived the gloom-and-doom prophecy fueled by the Mayan calendar.
With the arrival of a new year, Margaret and I launched our involvement in our latest career shift — book editing. (I’m going on record as saying, much to my surprise, there’s a world of difference between editing a riveting 160-page book and editing a newspaper story.)
Now that 2012 is history and 2013 is firmly under way, we can look back and cherish memories of the past year, take note of our mistakes and try to correct them in the days ahead and enjoy each day to its fullest.
Happy New Year, nine days late.
Trivia tidbit from mental_floss magazine: For those of you who are frustrated by video store late fees, keep in mind that Reed Hastings was inspired to start Netflix when he was facing a $40 late charge.
Quips ‘n’ Quotes: It was comedian Joey Adams who said, “May all your troubles last as long as your New Year’s resolutions.”
Henry Passenger’s column appears each Wednesday in the Tuscola County Advertiser. He can be reached at email@example.com.