In Poland, it's Sylwester, in France -- Saint-Sylvestre, or more typically, réveillon du nouvel an. In Scotland it's Hogmanay. New Year's Eve.
Ed tells me that it doesn't make sense to celebrate (or even take note of) the turning of a calendar page, that it would have been more authentic to stay with Winter Solstice as a significant point of change, indeed of transformation as we start adding minutes to the length of the day. But in fact, all these December revelries grew out of our appreciation for winter Solstice. We've added religious significance, we've embellished the story by crafting a Rudolph and a Santa, we've dropped a ball, lit torches (that would be Hogmanay) and popped champagne corks over the centuries, but in truth, in one way or another, we are all celebrating light, renewal, birth, a fresh start, a push for something better than our usual old dour selves. We're doing it with food and drink, often (if we're lucky) in the company of others. Sometimes, as in New York Times Square, in the company of millions of others.
As I wake up to my 66th New Year's Eve (I am 65), I stay in bed a while thinking where I've spent my previous December 31sts. In order of repeat performance rather than chronology:
Madison wins at 21!
New York City - 8 times.
Chicago - 8 times.
farmette - 6 times (if I count this year).
Warsaw - 5 times.
Polish village in the middle of nowhere -- 4.
Polish Tatra mountains - 3.
Florida - 3.
Paris - 2.
Finally, somewhere in Vermont, Pittsburgh, Taxco, Istanbul, Seville and Bayfield Wisconsin -- all come in at 1 each.
It's an interesting exercise: the concentration of Madison Eves reflects the stay at home years when the kids were small and money was tighter than tight. If I'm still kicking in a decade or two, the farmette years will forge ahead, toward the top of the list. I am glued to the little yellow house on the three acres of land just outside Madison as we flip the page to a New Year. I do not want to be anywhere else tonight.
Still, it's not an insignificant day for me. You may like to party, or watch movies late into the night. Perhaps you gather with friends. Or you're one of those who loves crowds. All good! But me -- I like to revel quietly. 2018 was so full of goodness: two children were born, no one was very sick, no one died. I am nothing but joyous at the recollections!
Eventually, I'll cook something very simple but very special for the two of us here, at the farmette. We'll watch a movie. One of us will doze off. The other will give a nudge at midnight. Happy New Year indeed!
But first, the morning chores.
And the lovely breakfast routines.
And then I hop out to my daughter's home, to help with the taking down of their Christmas tree.
(One last ring of a holiday bell...)
(That's just so funny!)
As I swing by the grocery store on my way home, the rain changes to snow. We all rush between cars and store to avoid the wettest of wet flakes. I smile as a dad hurries his two little girls indoors. He glares at me -- what, you think this is funny?! Clearly he is not having a good day!
At the farmette, the landscape is turning into something very pretty indeed!
Time to throw in those wee lobster tails into a pot, to roast some potatoes and steam the corn. May 2019 bring us all many reasons to smile, to feel grateful, to feel loved!
Happy New Year!
Ed tells me that it doesn't make sense to celebrate (or even take note of) the turning of a calendar page, that it would have been more authentic to stay with Winter Solstice as a significant point of change, indeed of transformation as we start adding minutes to the length of the day. But in fact, all these December revelries grew out of our appreciation for winter Solstice. We've added religious significance, we've embellished the story by crafting a Rudolph and a Santa, we've dropped a ball, lit torches (that would be Hogmanay) and popped champagne corks over the centuries, but in truth, in one way or another, we are all celebrating light, renewal, birth, a fresh start, a push for something better than our usual old dour selves. We're doing it with food and drink, often (if we're lucky) in the company of others. Sometimes, as in New York Times Square, in the company of millions of others.
As I wake up to my 66th New Year's Eve (I am 65), I stay in bed a while thinking where I've spent my previous December 31sts. In order of repeat performance rather than chronology:
Madison wins at 21!
New York City - 8 times.
Chicago - 8 times.
farmette - 6 times (if I count this year).
Warsaw - 5 times.
Polish village in the middle of nowhere -- 4.
Polish Tatra mountains - 3.
Florida - 3.
Paris - 2.
Finally, somewhere in Vermont, Pittsburgh, Taxco, Istanbul, Seville and Bayfield Wisconsin -- all come in at 1 each.
It's an interesting exercise: the concentration of Madison Eves reflects the stay at home years when the kids were small and money was tighter than tight. If I'm still kicking in a decade or two, the farmette years will forge ahead, toward the top of the list. I am glued to the little yellow house on the three acres of land just outside Madison as we flip the page to a New Year. I do not want to be anywhere else tonight.
Still, it's not an insignificant day for me. You may like to party, or watch movies late into the night. Perhaps you gather with friends. Or you're one of those who loves crowds. All good! But me -- I like to revel quietly. 2018 was so full of goodness: two children were born, no one was very sick, no one died. I am nothing but joyous at the recollections!
Eventually, I'll cook something very simple but very special for the two of us here, at the farmette. We'll watch a movie. One of us will doze off. The other will give a nudge at midnight. Happy New Year indeed!
But first, the morning chores.
And the lovely breakfast routines.
And then I hop out to my daughter's home, to help with the taking down of their Christmas tree.
(One last ring of a holiday bell...)
(That's just so funny!)
As I swing by the grocery store on my way home, the rain changes to snow. We all rush between cars and store to avoid the wettest of wet flakes. I smile as a dad hurries his two little girls indoors. He glares at me -- what, you think this is funny?! Clearly he is not having a good day!
At the farmette, the landscape is turning into something very pretty indeed!
Time to throw in those wee lobster tails into a pot, to roast some potatoes and steam the corn. May 2019 bring us all many reasons to smile, to feel grateful, to feel loved!
Happy New Year!
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