Well, we could, I suppose, but as for me, I shall go no farther than the front window to watch this beastly snow falling…and falling…and falling, forever and ever, amen. How freaking tiresome. Okay, not to be negative, here, but I am definitely in some kind of post-Christmas, end-of-year funk. Not unusual, by any means, of course. We Americans hype ourselves up so excessively for the holidays that there’s really no way they could ever meet all of our expectations (no matter how vague those expectations may be) and we end up, at least after the fact, with flatness. Add to that the fact that my son flies home to sunny Los Angeles (I think he may be the only sane one in the family) tomorrow morning, and I feel hit with a double whammy, as it were - holidays over and son gone again. Oh - and those six pounds that I lost? I’m pretty sure that they’ve found me again…you simply don’t want to hear all the gory details of what I’ve been eating over these past ten days or so. It would give you nightmares - seriously.

Okay. Christmas was perfectly fine. At the last minute - well, a week or so before - I relented about letting my ex-husband be there for dinner. I *graciously* told the kids that if they wanted their father there, it would be fine with me so long as one of them hosted the dinner, and I didn’t have to have him at my house. Bitter as it may sound, so much of my life - and living space - was overshadowed by him that my present home feels about a thousand pounds lighter and more airy in comparison, and it’s important to me to keep it that way. Having said that, I have also (finally) realized that carrying around all of this anger towards him is of no benefit to me, and in fact is burdensome ONLY to me - and of course, from time to time to my kids, who would prefer to maintain civil relations with their father. Fine. We’ve both moved on, and I guess the one thing I haven’t wanted to do is face up to the fact that if I had made different choices, my own life might’ve gotten better sooner. It was me who didn’t end things with the ex when they needed ending, so I can only blame myself for hanging in there as long as I did. He is what he is. Nobody - including his current wife - is going to change that. HE’S not going to change, and if he did, what difference would it make to me? I guess I’ve wasted enough time being angry with him. If I make no other New Year’s resolution, I guess I really will resolve to let the past - as far as my ex is concerned - stay in the past and be over and done with.

Back to the weather. I am hating this weather more this year than ever. Ice storms, snow storms, freezing cold (although on Christmas, it DID stay in the fifties, which was a lovely surprise) slippery sidewalks, etc., etc., so on and so forth. Ugh and DOUBLE ugh! I would dearly LOVE to take full advantage of the real estate downturn and buy a nice little place for DH and I down in the Charlotte, NC area. Prices were low there before, but now they’re ridiculous. A four bedroom, three bath house with attached two-car garage and a half acre of land can be had for a hundred thousand and change. I’m talking about $125,000 or less. Not that we would need four bedrooms on a day-to-day basis, but think of the possibilities for family visits with all the kiddos and their kiddos coming at the same time! Oh, okay, it’s not like they could each have their own rooms, but between the multiple bedrooms, the study, the great room, etc., there would be ample bunking space. But of course we couldn’t even think about moving now that the twins are on their way. My daughter would never speak to me again if I was to abandon her when she needs me the most. But I am sorely tempted to buy one of those houses down there now, while the buying’s good, and have it to go to when everything’s under control with those babies.

So, life goes on. And on. And on. Until it doesn’t anymore, I guess. Some days I feel I’ve reverted to my college days - pondering the meaning of life, succumbing to what is it (?)…existential angst???? What’s it all about, Alfie? (Oh, an old Michael Caine movie - you youngsters won’t recognize the reference) and where have all the flowers gone?  Ah, yes, the old thing’s gone ’round the bend, doncha know? (Get the accent right…it would be British at it’s prissiest). And conversely, some days I feel at my most mystical - detached from outcomes, and content to let life flow through me, observing, but not invested. Truthfully, I’m becoming a bit ambivalent about my job (which unfortunately, pays very well, and offers a truly comfortable pension upon retirement) and questioning the very process of raising money in the huge amounts that we do when I see so little progress being made both at home and globally to end poverty and house, feed and clothe humanity in total. The Madoff scandal. Now that’s really something, isn’t it? Have you seen any interviews with the *victims* - seen any footage of their homes, their lives - have you felt any pity for their perhaps having to “let some of the household help go”??? Am I being too judgmental in my inability to feel sorry for people who have lived (and will undoubtedly continue to live) like royalty while so many have so little in this world? Am I being too judgmental when I shrug my shoulders at their weeping, and think to myself, “And about time, too!!!!” (?) Unfortunately, there were also investments made with Madoff by some private philanthropic foundations that actually do a little bit of good in the world, but truthfully speaking, those foundations all exist simply because the families - or corporations - have so much money, so many assets that they quite literally HAVE to create a philanthropic foundation or be lambasted with taxes - and the wealthy will do anything (even GIVE money away) before they’ll pay taxes on it, trust me. But beyond all of that, the other irony is that people are claiming huge losses based on what they EXPECTED to MAKE on their investments, not on what they actually invested. What they lost was whatever they gave to Madoff to invest, NOT their projected earnings, for pity sake!

Ah, well. Let’s not descend into total cynicism. Life is, after all, what you make it (or what great-grampaw was able to make to leave to you and the rest of his descendants). And it’s nothing more, really, than our shared agreement to allow pieces of paper - or numbers on a screen - to represent our worth as individuals. In the years that I’ve been alive, I’ve come to see that there are always (and will always be) people who are far better off, and people who are far worse off than I am. There are people who are fatter, people who are thinner. People more conventionally beautiful and people less beautiful. People who are far healthier and more fit, and people who are less healthy and in far worse shape than I am. And on and on, ad infinitum.

I am continuing this post this morning - New Year’s morning, that is - because things got busy yesterday when I had started writing. It’s very cold here today, and was very cold last night - 3 degrees, with wind chill factors (there was a lot of gusty wind) in the minus teens. NOT optimum for the annual “First Night” celebrations during which revelers walk through the downtown streets from venue to venue where a wide variety of short musical or dance or comedic - or whatever - performances are offered up. The crowds were sparse, from what I’ve seen on newscasts. We stayed snuggled in together at my next-door daughter’s - My DH & I, my son and his GF, my other (preggers-with-twins) daughter and her DH and DD, and of course the host-daughter’s DH and DS. The host-DD made a huge pan of lasagne, I brought jumbo shrimp and shrimp sauce, marinated steak (which host-DD broiled) and a huge Greek salad, and my other DD brought all kinds of chips and dips and snacks and drinks and desserts. Yikes!!!! So we ate, played some Wii games, watched some movies, and somewhere just after midnight, my grown children - and the grandchildren - erupted into total chaos chasing each other through the house with longbows that shoot foam rubber darts and some other strange devices that shoot foam rubber bullets with velcro on the tips so that they stick to whomever they hit, and the “dead guy” can’t claim to have dodged at the last moment. This went on for at least a half hour with me sitting in my chair, feet up on the ottoman, collecting and dispersing bullets. (And, no, not a single one of us indulges in alcohol: we seem to just have a naturally crazy streak, is all) - I felt like “Ma Barker” (Isn’t she the one from down south somewhere who headed up a clan of criminals?) Now we won’t get into the discussions about the advisability of allowing kids to have toys that resemble real-life weapons, because we all know that it’s about as politically incorrect as you can get (not to mention the message it’s sending to those little ones, who are likely to grow up thinking that ALL guns shoot foam rubber bullets) but these silly people (two of whom are only a couple of years away from their fortieth birthdays and should be a bit more dignified, doncha think?) were having such great fun that I couldn’t help but have fun watching them (and collecting their bullets).

So DS’s flight was scheduled to depart at 7:45 AM from Boston, which meant leaving home at 5:30-ish to give themselves time to get through security and all - and he decided that going to bed for just a few hours would be worse than not going to bed at all, so with the exception of DH, who really can’t pull all-nighters anymore, and went next door to bed after the ball dropped (and missed all the foam rubber bullet action) we all determined that we’d stay up all night with DS and go to bed when he left for the airport. I ALMOST made it, but caved at 3:00 AM, and went to bed while he took a bath (with my new Christmas-gift - oatmeal bath cubes), did a last minute load of laundry and got his suitcases packed. I told him to wake me when he was leaving, and he did, so I got at last hug at 5:30 this morning, after which I promptly went back to sleep, and only woke up about an hour ago. Today will be a restful one. And then, believe it or not, I have to work tomorrow, and then we have a “Welcome 2009″ dinner party with some friends on Saturday. All I ask is that they have sufficient heat. These old bones are beginning to HATE cold quite passionately.

DH and I plan to get back to our “VERY healthy eating” style and also back to our morning exercise (walking with the Leslie Sansone DVD’s) on Monday. Enough of the craziness. Also, with DS back in sunny LA, the energy level around here has dropped a rather amazing number of decibels, and we can now actually *focus* on what we need to be doing. You just can’t achieve the proper focus when your house is filled with people, and you can’t manage to get to bed much before 1 or 2 AM any night at all. Now we’ll be back to our regular routines. (Which is not to say that I wouldn’t gladly have DS home for weeks or months at a time, but of course he has to work, as do I, so the craziness would have to settle into routine soon enough.

Alright, all of those wordy words above are here really just for one purpose (you KNOW how carried away I can get) and that’s to wish all of you a wonderful 2009. Just think! Another whole year to do with as you will! I’m sending you the warmest of hugs, and the warmest of wishes, as well, that all of my wonderful people (you know perfectly well who you are) here, there and everywhere are able to create the most wonderful year yet for themselves. I hope to do the same.

Love,

Z