We ended 2008 by cleaning the house, then falling into bed and to sleep a bit after midnight, happy the firecrackers down the street and the hooting, six-foot-four thirteen-year-old next door didn’t wake the kid up. We started 2009 with pancakes and homemade whipped cream, and some neighbors at our table. We’re thinking next year we’ll extend that to include all of our neighbors, but since we only thought of it the day before, there wasn’t time to plan for such a big pancakey deal, and having just the one family over this year was lovely, as we’re rather fond of them. (And no, we wouldn’t have spent New Year’s Eve cleaning the house if we hadn’t invited guests over at the last minute. We’re fine with the way we live most days, but no one else really needs to see it.)

On Friday I got some writing time, and I’m getting more right now, and the novel revisions are coming along very well. I’m madly in love with this book, which is a wonderful feeling. A fleeting feeling, too, and I’ll ride it as long as it lasts.

Tomorrow daily life starts again. The house will want cleaning again, dinner will want cooking. There are doctor appointments, playgroup, playdates. Shoes to be outgrown. Books to read, toys to break. I’m looking forward to it, curious to see what shapes 2009 takes once we stop looking at it so directly, with all the New Years expectation.