New...

The last few months have kept us a bit busier than usual. We helped Rachel and Evans move into a new home, took a magnificent vacation, celebrated a wedding, welcomed the Owlet to the world, and honored the holidays. We kept up our regular work schedules through it all (maybe plus some!), kept the home fires burning, and took care of all the animals here on the farmlette. We have hosted meals and parties, kept the guest room at the ready, and made memories. Despite the global challenges of the year, we continued on our lives' rapid trajectory and did the best we could, hand in hand. 

Yesterday I packed up Christmas, and Chris stored the bins away until next year. 

For the last night of '21, we gathered with a full table and some favorite people. I roasted the other half of the monster turkey we bought for Thanksgiving. There was a deep pan of stuffing, flavorful gravy, perfectly roasted potatoes, squash, and beets that Susan contributed. I usually think beets taste like dirt, but these were delicious, and the pan was empty when she took it home. Rachel made a big bowl of crisp Caesar salad and a pan of dense, moist gingerbread from an old family recipe. Cheryl brought a jar of heavy cream from a local Amish dairy, and we whipped it up to dollop all over that dessert. A flavorful ending to the last meal of the year. We lingered as the candles burned down, stories were told, and there were some good laughs. The Owlet was handed around the table but spent most of the evening snoozing on Susan. They both looked content. 

The last guest left around 10:30. We never intended to stay up to usher in the new year. Chris went upstairs, and I sat awhile by the fire, finishing a glass of Port. This is a new vice my son-in-love introduced me to at Christmas. It begs to be sipped and savored and goes well with reflective thinking. At 11:30, I walked out with the dogs for their bedtime meander. Lifting my face to the cloudy sky, I bid a silent goodbye to the year. After my evening ablutions, I cracked the bedroom window open a bit and got under the covers of our soft bed. Chris was sleeping, and I spooned in, relishing his warmth and comforted by the sound of his breathing. On the opposite side of the lake, someone set off some fireworks at midnight. I considered getting up to see but decided there was nowhere I would rather be than where I was at that very moment. With a prayer of gratitude, I slept. 

This morning brings an unblemished calendar, with crisp pages waiting to be filled. Our plan for today and tomorrow is to do... nothing. It's a foggy morning. The house smells of hazelnut coffee, with a hint of smoke from the woodstove. I am snuggled up on the sofa with a warm blanket, the dogs snoozing on either side of me like comforting bookends. Our intention is to rest and recharge a bit so we can embrace 2022 with vigor. I can hardly wait to see what the coming days have in store for us.