I survived the holiday madness and am ready to settle into my normal routine. My youngest son received a drum set for Christmas. Need I say more? He's really quite good on them, and plays electric guitar, too, but I love quiet--I suppose most writers do--and drums are anything but quiet. My eldest son isn't so happy about the drums either, since his room is right across the hall from his brother's. I think I finally have them on a schedule that includes drum-free hours as well as hours my youngest can play. So far, the house is still standing.
Husband went to The Asian Panda yesterday and picked up dinner for New Year's Eve. Turns out to be the best Chinese restaurant we've tried in the area, because they have such a wide variety of vegetarian entrees like my favorite, eggplant in garlic sauce. He also picked up a raspberry and white chocolate cheesecake from The Cheesecake Factory, which went perfectly with the champagne and CNN/Anderson Cooper's New Year's countdown. Yes, I am one of those boring people who celebrates at home. I'm just not the type to endure the cold or fight the crowds to watch a ball drop from the sky so I can kiss the same man I've been kissing for twenty years. Nope, not happening. If Elvis or Anna Nicole Smith or Michael Jackson (Oh, wait, he isn't dead) stepped out of the ball, or if I got to kiss Richard Gere, maybe I'd show up...but probably not. I'm as reclusive as they come.
I must have been a good girl this year, because Santa brought me a huge stack of books for Christmas, along with some art supplies, red wine, DVDs, CDs, and chocolate. I'll highlight some of the books here as I read them, but if you want the wine and chocolate, you better get here fast. Neither last long around me.
I finished up round four of 30:30 at ITWS. As much as I'd love to continue, I find it very difficult to write both poetry and fiction simultaneously. They ask for different things, at least I find that to be true.
I hope you all enjoy a year of happiness, good health, and successes large and small.