days and weeks and years
New Years' celebrations are Important to me.
They were the biggest of deals in my childhood. Some of the traditions - trees and presents and costume parties - did not translate to transitioning to the US. But greeting the year with friends was one I was not willing to let go of.
Nor cooking way too much. (If only to not have to keep doing it through the rest of the weekend when I'm probably hung over).
The Olivier salad was all but mandatory, of course. I tossed together a pair of apple kugels, cranked out a tray of rum balls (ok, vodka and peanut butter cream liqueur balls), and, by way of an experiment, a clafouti, which turned out to be ridiculously easy to make and relatively forgiving of newbie errors. Spouse also made a large roast and some vegetables to go with it.
Another of my personal traditions was to watch the fireworks - we have a Midnight at 7 event which has a display at 7pm for the kids. It appears that more people are catching on that it's a thing - over the years we used to just about have a parking garage across the street to ourselves for a view, but it was well-populated this time. Not crowded, and one could easily stay far away from other groups, but I suspect in a few years it may well be.
Favorite Ex and Wife came by later in the evening. The weather was a bit drizzly, but warm enough to spend the evening safely outdoors by the firepit. Fog gets quite spectacular in my back yard, and while the dampness meant that the fire took a bit of time to get going, it eventually burned bright and gorgeous. We had a bit of whiskey and some desserts and wonderful, comfortable conversation, and champagne at midnight.
I finished the night on a zoom with a few of my favorite people. It was nice. I did not stay up too late.
My attempt to sleep in was thwarted by Spouse's phone making bloopy noises. As it did the morning after, too, but I was able to doze off eventually.
Turkeymas was virtual again, and this year hampered a little by there being a tiny in-person gathering at the host's house, so a number of people I would like to have seen were largely preoccupied with seeing each other. Which I can hardly begrudge them, but it made for a disorganized zoom event as the remote crew, myself included, were thrown by the communication protocols of the two environments.
It was so frustrating that I left, which did give me an opportunity to go for a fabulous walk in the still-warm weather.
With my departure the host seems to have realized just how bad it was getting, and attempted to explain his logic, which I am sure was logical to him, but I'm quite sure that he wanted to host two parties at once, one for himself with his closest friends and another for the obligation of hosting, which no doubt is also important to him, but his having and eating of his cake left me with a sour taste in my mouth and a lousy mood from feeling like I was home alone and outside looking in.
Sunday the temperatures dropped quite radically, so I spent the day curled up reading a book before going dancing in the evening.
On Monday I had a day off. Spouse did not, but was prevented from heading to the office by the rather dramatic snow - it looked pretty enough, but the roads were an unholy mess, and it took him an hour and a half to make his way 15 minutes down the road, turn around and return.
My birthday is coming up. We were contemplating another trip to NYC for Spouse's work, but with Omicron and cases going up in New York even more than here that seems entirely too dangerous.
So does rehearsing a live show, so I've deferred my directing project until the cases slow down.
Which leaves me... well, not much of anywhere. Originally posted at https://leiacat.dreamwidth.org/355072.html. Please comment either there using OpenID or right here. I read both with the same distracted semi-frequency.
They were the biggest of deals in my childhood. Some of the traditions - trees and presents and costume parties - did not translate to transitioning to the US. But greeting the year with friends was one I was not willing to let go of.
Nor cooking way too much. (If only to not have to keep doing it through the rest of the weekend when I'm probably hung over).
The Olivier salad was all but mandatory, of course. I tossed together a pair of apple kugels, cranked out a tray of rum balls (ok, vodka and peanut butter cream liqueur balls), and, by way of an experiment, a clafouti, which turned out to be ridiculously easy to make and relatively forgiving of newbie errors. Spouse also made a large roast and some vegetables to go with it.
Another of my personal traditions was to watch the fireworks - we have a Midnight at 7 event which has a display at 7pm for the kids. It appears that more people are catching on that it's a thing - over the years we used to just about have a parking garage across the street to ourselves for a view, but it was well-populated this time. Not crowded, and one could easily stay far away from other groups, but I suspect in a few years it may well be.
Favorite Ex and Wife came by later in the evening. The weather was a bit drizzly, but warm enough to spend the evening safely outdoors by the firepit. Fog gets quite spectacular in my back yard, and while the dampness meant that the fire took a bit of time to get going, it eventually burned bright and gorgeous. We had a bit of whiskey and some desserts and wonderful, comfortable conversation, and champagne at midnight.
I finished the night on a zoom with a few of my favorite people. It was nice. I did not stay up too late.
My attempt to sleep in was thwarted by Spouse's phone making bloopy noises. As it did the morning after, too, but I was able to doze off eventually.
Turkeymas was virtual again, and this year hampered a little by there being a tiny in-person gathering at the host's house, so a number of people I would like to have seen were largely preoccupied with seeing each other. Which I can hardly begrudge them, but it made for a disorganized zoom event as the remote crew, myself included, were thrown by the communication protocols of the two environments.
It was so frustrating that I left, which did give me an opportunity to go for a fabulous walk in the still-warm weather.
With my departure the host seems to have realized just how bad it was getting, and attempted to explain his logic, which I am sure was logical to him, but I'm quite sure that he wanted to host two parties at once, one for himself with his closest friends and another for the obligation of hosting, which no doubt is also important to him, but his having and eating of his cake left me with a sour taste in my mouth and a lousy mood from feeling like I was home alone and outside looking in.
Sunday the temperatures dropped quite radically, so I spent the day curled up reading a book before going dancing in the evening.
On Monday I had a day off. Spouse did not, but was prevented from heading to the office by the rather dramatic snow - it looked pretty enough, but the roads were an unholy mess, and it took him an hour and a half to make his way 15 minutes down the road, turn around and return.
My birthday is coming up. We were contemplating another trip to NYC for Spouse's work, but with Omicron and cases going up in New York even more than here that seems entirely too dangerous.
So does rehearsing a live show, so I've deferred my directing project until the cases slow down.
Which leaves me... well, not much of anywhere. Originally posted at https://leiacat.dreamwidth.org/355072.html. Please comment either there using OpenID or right here. I read both with the same distracted semi-frequency.