New Year, New Moments

Higgledy piggledy. That's how 2010 has started.

An error in my check registry (against me) which I just stumbled across today (better now than after an inadvertent overdraft). Crossed wires with the entity that has taken over financial counseling at the hospital; it's been a painfully slow transition and someone misplaced my papers. (Okay, accidents happen and clearly you guys goofed somewhere, but did you have to send the computer generated letter threatening me that if I didn't comply and turn in the missing documents (for the second time, but who's counting?), you would close the file and report me as uncooperative?) Too many stacks to attend to ranging from dirty towels to unread books. The boxes of Christmas cards - the Christmas just past - sitting on the coffee table - no signatures, no addresses, no stamps, nothing.

That was not how I anticipated 2010 starting. Oh, I knew we would get to that level soon enough; entropy alone would guarantee that - but not so soon. Not by January 2.

I spent 20 minutes of the last afternoon of the last day of 2009 just walking up and down the driveway leading to the top of the Delaware Dam. It was late enough in the afternoon that the daylight was dying right along with the year.

I was walking because the three of us - Warren, Liz (his daughter formerly known as Elizabeth), and I - had gone out on a futile run to Mom Wilson's, a local sausage mart, and Liz wanted to spend New Year's Eve with her mother. Although this is Warren's week with his daughter, he agreed to let her go for the evening. For reasons I don't need to post, I do not ever go along when Warren picks up or drops off his daughter at her mother's house. On the other hand, it seemed silly to drive all the way back into town, drop me off, then take Liz out to her mom's, which is close to the dam. So I suggested I get out at the Delaware Dam and walk while Warren ran the shuttle. He wasn't happy about my solution, but insofar as I was driving at the time, he had no choice.

I had about 20 minutes at the dam, which I spent walking up and down the sloped driveway to the top of the dam. (This is not a steep climb, but a gentle grade.) Up and down, up and down.

As it always does when I am walking, my mind started its running commentary. It sounded something like this: Sam job bills to pay new glasses Warren projects Montana taxes quarterly grant report laundry supper plans Christmas tree still up January rehearsals boots United Way too many holiday snacks New York Sam job bills to pay new glasses Warren projects Montana taxes quarterly grant report laundry supper plans Christmas tree still up January rehearsals boots United Way too many holiday snacks New York…

Nothing like walking to a chorus. Still, it felt good to be tramping up and down, up and down, in the failing light. And as often happens when I walk, I felt I could slot the various concerns and issues into my mental filing cabinet and face 2010 boldly and in control.

"Boldly and in control." Ha.

A mere two days, a couple of my plans are already cockeyed, thanks to my math error. On the upside, a few are temporarily allayed, thanks to updated information. And the rest just roll alongside me into 2010, rumbling quietly every now and then to remind me they are still present.

If I were really, really organized and on top of my game, I would leap into action right now. I would tackle the running list (well, to the extent I could), tame the piles, even address those Christmas cards. I would get the towels washed, along with the dishes from the late afternoon snack break we all took. I would stop munching on the last of the holiday goodies while I am at it. But this is starting to sound suspiciously close to making resolutions, and I have already declared I don't do resolutions.

I do, however, savor small moments of great reward, and that is what I plan on doing as soon as I post this. Am doing already, in fact. We made cinnamon rolls for New Year's day, and so far the first two days of 2010 have started with their warm sweetness. So will tomorrow. Right now Liz is in the basement dancing, Warren is busy researching heaters, and our household is warm and together. There are leftovers for supper and a Christmas tree that has not yet outworn its welcome.

Higgledy piggledy or not, it's 2010. I can't wait to see what the remaining 363 days hold.