We have had a rather blah new year. Neither of us felt much like celebrating. James' bad leg has been blistering again and it feels like I'm fighting the tide. We didn't even watch the Rose Parade, and I've watched it every year since I was a kid. It was just too much trouble to go look for the live link and watch it directly from California, which is so much better than the network crap.

For the rest of the week we had to do the usual chores as well as prepare for the Twelfth Night party. This is our first one since the pandemic since James ended up in the hospital last year and we had to cancel. I was excited about it, and we had a very happy time seeing everyone again—Clay and Maggi even came up from Warner Robins—but I was as dispirited about prep as I was about cleaning up, and if I was dragging my feet putting up the Christmas decorations, it's going to be even harder taking them down (even though taking down is easier).

My soul is so tired sometimes...

Labels: chores, holidays, New Year

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 11:10:00 PM

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