January is the dreamiest month
It’s been a while since I last posted. Most events have slipped onto that ribbon of road behind me, sending life’s minutiae to a receding place too distant to revisit.
I recall that a Christmas tree was bought, bedecked, and admired. That visiting family both graced and improved our fire-lit home. That English mince pies were forced down polite American throats. That someone received the butter dish she’d been begging for. That a toddler bathed in the glory of familial adoration. And that one mother took a daily afternoon nap.
But soon strangers stopped wishing us a happy holiday. Our Christmas tree was downed, dragged away and forgotten. The old year submitted quietly to the new so that guests could return to their homes and husbands to their work. One toddler showed unconcealed joy at being back in school. Which meant that one mother could no longer justify her afternoon nap.
Now, in January, it’s fun to teeter at the edge of a new year and to wonder what all this unlived future will bring. For me, I hope it holds countless naps as well as, ahem, domestic excellence and staggering professional success. Similarly, I hope that your new year shimmers with both noble and self-indulgent goals, and that you get as much sleep as you need.
Like me, your hopes for a gleaming home, a stellar career and a rested body may seem neither practical nor achievable. Yet January is nothing if not the month for unfeasible dreams.
Happy January everyone and happy dreaming.