when i looked to the moon it turned to gold

out with the old, in with the new. we sit, fighting sickness, in our cozy house enjoying silence, the hum of the computer, the swish of a car, the driver lonely and forgotten on this celebration night, the sniff of congestion, the blow of a nose. the neighbors' blue lights twinkle at me through the glass from their twining spot on their front porch. it's chilly but not cold.

my mother and i spent the day prematurely discussing potted plants and the placement of bricks as we sipped tea and watched the gilmore girls, disc after disc after disc after disc.

tonight the boys are sleeping, snoring, dreaming of tomorrows as we all do night after night. i had hoped to have them stay awake tonight with handmade noisemakers and party hats, sipping sparkling grape juice and munching on salty snacks in the living room. grumpiness and exhaustion took over, though. not to mention the sad failure on my part to construct noisemakers and party hats, to purchase salty snacks. next year, perhaps. we pray and hope for next year, for many more years with boys that sparkle with sunny smiles, boys who fill our hearts with pride and joy and remind us to follow paths of righteousness so that we can show them the way, the path, as well.

my study is a pile of books and paper, the 2006 resolution towards organization clearly overly ambitious. "we're about to paint, no use organizing the place today," i sniff, digging for a pencil, the address book, the ringing telephone. "tomorrow!" says the old me, the new me, the 2006 me, all of us.


nearly a year of blogging wrapped up (un)tidily in this last post of 2005. wrapped in golden paper with twirly ribbon glittering on top. happy new year, to the friends, the foes, to the bewildered, to the astonished, to the fantastic and to the dismal. take a cup of kindness . . .