I adore these days between Christmas and New Year, languid days of staying up late, sleeping in, falling asleep on the sofa in the middle of the day if I feel like it. I don’t do any chores beyond the absolutely necessary during this gloriously lazy week; the decorations and tree are still in place, there are piles of presents scattered around and we are running out of clean clothes. I have just relented and put a load of washing on so that the Prof has his favourite t-shirts to wear tomorrow and Monday, before he goes back to the daily grind of smart shirts and trousers. We are spending a lot of time watching DVDs, reading, once or twice we have been out for a drive. The Prof’s been working on an essay for his MA, I have been reading my Kindle. We’ve been eating simple food and drinking Baileys. It’s been a comfortable, slow time. It’s been good.
Today is New Year’s Eve. Tonight as always, just before twelve, I will leave the back and front doors to our house open, to allow the Old Year to depart and the New Year to enter. Through that back door I am sending too many late nights, days spent multitasking and doing nothing well, some excess poundage I will be glad to say goodbye to, and this infernal grasshopper mind of mine. I will be standing by the front door as Big Ben strikes midnight to welcome one thing: peace. Peace in my surroundings, peace in my mind, peace in my life. Under the heading of peace, these things can enter: Healthier habits; good food, regular bedtimes, exercise, fresh air. Routine; I both detest and crave routine, it is boring but I know it makes life easier to do set things at certain times, I am thinking eating, sleeping, cleaning. Creativity; more writing, photography, some crafting and drawing. Family and friends; more time with both. Fun; drives in the country, weekends away, films, music, laughter. Peace.