I hope your holidays were rich with love and joy. Ours involved a case of listeria – we learned of a massive lettuce recall the morning after eating salads for dinner – so my husband spent Christmas and Boxing Day (Dec. 26, for those of you unacquainted with English customs) in bed, and our plans went somewhat awry. But we all came through it OK, and for once, I’m glad the children didn’t eat their vegetables.
This, by the way, was our second Christmas tainted by food poisoning. A few years ago, a vicious case of norovirus (my nephew picked it up at school in Illinois) swept through our family. And if you know anything about norovirus, you know it wasn’t pretty. But it was … memorable, shall we say.
Anyway, we are deep into January, with its quilts and candles and frosty mornings (and cats glaring spitefully at me through my office window. They have two heated cat houses in the barn. But they come out anyway, just to make a point of it). I like a quiet January, after all the glitter and decadence of Christmas, and I’m savoring all the little pink and purple outfits (who knew there were so many shades of pink?!) that come with having a baby girl.
This place usually looks like Legoland jammed with a traffic of tractors, cars and monster trucks. The girl stuff (she got two stuffed pink unicorns, from two different people, for Christmas) is a welcome reprieve.
But I digress.
The brain fog that comes with having a new baby is partially lifting, but I still could not speak knowingly or intelligently about anything that has happened in the news in the past two months, so I won’t try. I am simply writing to wish you all a blessed 2022.
Peace be with you!
