Thank you, always :-)

We have tried. DH started journaling, one new year in semi-recent memory. He’d wanted to capture in word our monthly interesting bits, at least, but he lost steam sometime early that year. That piece of notebook paper is safe.. somewhere.

And apparently for me, a journal is something one uses for two days — a prayer list on the last page if it’s a hardcover journal — then it becomes a list holder. Until those pages get ripped out. It is also always a poetry keeper, until..

I began a journal on the first day of school for the grands this past August. It’s been ripped out and is being saved. I saw it recently. Before the Christmas list, the trip list, the visit here list.. I will get a new journal with all this $ that kind people have been throwing at me, God bless them, and I’ll stick that page in the front of it. No, I’ll tape it in there. Just in case I depart in some unforeseen hurry, before I can rip the new journal to list-shreds.

There were poetry pages in that last journal. You saw 1% of it. Otherwise, there is what is known as used-envelope-poetry. You saw all of that.

We came up with the idea of a large block’d kitchen wall calendar — we could jot on it what we particularly wanted to remember/relive of all of us here and the extended fam, come the last day of the past year.

Well, maybe tomorrow. Maybe January 1, 2019 we’ll do it. If I find a suitable calendar today. If you like me, you will pray me such a calendar found. (Right after you pray me dressed and made up in time to go look at calendars before work.)

Either way (what? you don’t like me??), 2019 begins shortly after midnight. Like an open journal book. Will I write, “Yay, Mueller, the Fairly-Good-Looking-American  — God bless him!”?  Ohhhh, I hope so.. I will frame that one!!

There are many things I wonder if I’ll write. Many family Yays that I can’t foresee but surely pray for.

Or, the short answer is, no, this post won’t be a recap of our past year. The highs are speakable, but the lows, not so much. Lows come with residual trauma built in; highs are more brief, yet too heady (and personal) for anything but poetry.

I was thus going to leave you with a great playlist of happy or at least ever-peppy songs to close out this year. A still-wrapped turkey is calling me from the fridge’s top right shelf, though, so all I’ve got so far is almost anything Beatles, anything McCartney, anything Stevie Wonder, anything Frankie Valli, Abbott and Costello’s Who’s on First (I know, but it’s sort of a duet), The Sultans of Swing, Lido Shuffle, Brown-eyed Girl, and for you, sir, Green Onions.

This one’s for all of you in WordPress.  See you next year… try to behave!!

<:-)  ❤





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