New Year's Day
Jan. 1st, 2024 09:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoHappy new year, everybody. I guess we're having 2024 whether we like it or not, so we may as well hope it's a happy one. Sorry for the non-posting. We were having too much fun and getting worn out by the end of the day! The Nipper and family stayed over Christmas Day, when we all had dinner with the Duchess and her family, and then they went home in the morning of Boxing Day. Tron and the Lumberjack arrived that afternoon and stayed until yesterday morning. After they left, we went to church, and then got a call from a very nice couple we know, inviting us to do something with them for New Year's Eve. I hated to turn them down, but we had to tell them we were honestly too tired! We were about to take a nap. She laughed and said actually her husband was asleep at that moment too. Post-nap, we did stay up until midnight, had some nice if rather staid conversation about last year and the next, and toasted the new year with a can of St. Steve's Ginger Soda, from Mud Lake in Hudsonville. We didn't think it would be a great idea to drink alcohol so late at night--alas. Also, we had FORGOTTEN TO BUY CHAMPAGNE. Good grief. Talk about a senior moment . . . .
The Sparrowhawk didn't sleep well, and did a little catching up by sleeping in until 9. I didn't sleep well either, but got up earlier and talked to Queenie. Her visiting child had gone home yesterday as well. In the afternoon, I debated whether the best thing to do in pursuit of a better year of taking care of myself would be going for a walk or trying to take another nap. The nap won. Even after that, I didn't feel very good. I stayed in my pjs all day. The Sparrowhawk was watching the Rose Bowl, but I couldn't look half the time. I made a little dab of Hoppin' John spiced up with Chachere's, and some random sausages that were waiting to be cooked, and heated up the leftover pizza from our make-your-own pizza extravaganza with Tron and the Lumberjack. We will be subsisting for the rest of the week on unorthodox meals composed of leftovers, of which we have a great variety.
Since we're re-reading LotR, it seemed fitting that it came to mind when I was reflecting on the past and future years today. I thought of Bilbo's song in Rivendell.
I sit beside the fire and think
of all that I have seen,
of meadow-flowers and butterflies
in summers that have been:
Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair.
I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall ever see.
For still there are so many things
that I have never seen!
In every wood in every spring
there is a different green.
I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago,
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know.
But all the while I sit and think
of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.
I know that almost, but not quite, by heart. As Tolkien himself would have said "That's not what I meant to say." The quote I was really looking for was about the conversation Frodo and Bilbo were having at the end of "Many Meetings."
He led Frodo back to his own little room. It opened on to the gardens and looked south across the ravine of the Bruinen. There they sat for some while, looking through the window at the bright stars above the steep-climbing woods, and talking softly. They spoke no more of the small news of the Shire far away, nor of the dark shadows and perils that encompassed them, but of the fair things they had seen in the world together, of the Elves, of the stars, of trees, and the gentle fall of the bright year in the woods.
We are a couple of old hobbits now, and if we speak of the past it should be just so, not of fears, worries, or regrets, but of the company we have shared and the beauties we have seen together.
The Sparrowhawk didn't sleep well, and did a little catching up by sleeping in until 9. I didn't sleep well either, but got up earlier and talked to Queenie. Her visiting child had gone home yesterday as well. In the afternoon, I debated whether the best thing to do in pursuit of a better year of taking care of myself would be going for a walk or trying to take another nap. The nap won. Even after that, I didn't feel very good. I stayed in my pjs all day. The Sparrowhawk was watching the Rose Bowl, but I couldn't look half the time. I made a little dab of Hoppin' John spiced up with Chachere's, and some random sausages that were waiting to be cooked, and heated up the leftover pizza from our make-your-own pizza extravaganza with Tron and the Lumberjack. We will be subsisting for the rest of the week on unorthodox meals composed of leftovers, of which we have a great variety.
Since we're re-reading LotR, it seemed fitting that it came to mind when I was reflecting on the past and future years today. I thought of Bilbo's song in Rivendell.
I sit beside the fire and think
of all that I have seen,
of meadow-flowers and butterflies
in summers that have been:
Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair.
I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall ever see.
For still there are so many things
that I have never seen!
In every wood in every spring
there is a different green.
I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago,
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know.
But all the while I sit and think
of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.
I know that almost, but not quite, by heart. As Tolkien himself would have said "That's not what I meant to say." The quote I was really looking for was about the conversation Frodo and Bilbo were having at the end of "Many Meetings."
He led Frodo back to his own little room. It opened on to the gardens and looked south across the ravine of the Bruinen. There they sat for some while, looking through the window at the bright stars above the steep-climbing woods, and talking softly. They spoke no more of the small news of the Shire far away, nor of the dark shadows and perils that encompassed them, but of the fair things they had seen in the world together, of the Elves, of the stars, of trees, and the gentle fall of the bright year in the woods.
We are a couple of old hobbits now, and if we speak of the past it should be just so, not of fears, worries, or regrets, but of the company we have shared and the beauties we have seen together.
no subject
Date: 2024-01-02 06:10 pm (UTC)