After fruitless effort to discern what set off this latest intestinal attack (usually I can narrow it down to a meal or food), it seems I have recovered, and life has started to return to what passes for normal around these parts, so I’ve shrugged my shoulders and decided to move on.
Yesterday, we were up and de-decorating early in the morning, boxing and binning all evidence of the holidays and returning it all to the storage space in the basement, where it will sit and wait to be recalled next November.
Removing all the holiday clutter is like rediscovering your home. All the little knick-knacks returned to their nesting spots, furniture moved back to its pre tree-accommodating locations, sometimes a little tweaking to change things up a bit. When all is said and done, it is great to collapse in the space you’ve made your home in, and enjoy another season survived and house rejuvenation job well done.
Unless you realize, just as you plop down, sore and tired, that the holiday open house you agreed to attend at your friends’ home is Saturday, and not Sunday, like you thought.
Despite our day of dismantling, we dragged ourselves out and had a good time reconnecting with old friends we hadn’t seen in way too long, perhaps a consolation prize for the prior celebration that was nipped in the bud.
Today, we get to enjoy the fruits of our labor, in our serene and orderly home, relaxing by the warm fire, dogs firmly ensconced in our laps, catching up on Dr. Who episodes.
A better start to the new year, than an end to the old one, indeed.