I find that the older we get the more each day is like any other. It may seem pessimistic to some, but New Year's Eve just doesn't hold the same sense of newness and excitement that it used to and staying up until midnight to ring in the new year just messes up my sleep cycle (although it might have been nice to watch Ryan Seacrest honor the late, great Dick Clark). I wake up in the morning and it is a new day. Every day. That's seems pretty good to me. I really don't care what year it is as long as I, my family and pets are healthy, warm, housed and fed.
Yesterday was New Year's day and it was cloudy, cold and windy outside, so I spent the day on the couch reading. I haven't done that in weeks, which is unusual for me, so it was a treat. A good way to spend the 1st of January regardless of the year. My cats loved it. They cuddled with me almost the whole time. At one point, I had to push Louis (my orange tabby), off my lap so I could cool down. He was radiating heat like a furnace.
The wind died down in the evening so I bundled myself in two sweatshirts and a stocking cap and set off on a walk around the RV park, which is pretty large, and I walked every street. Many people live here year round and have patio covers next to their mobile homes, trailers or motorhomes. Lots of them have their areas strung with Christmas lights and other holiday decorations. It looks festive and it gave me something to look at during my walk. I wonder when they'll start taking them down? The walk was invigorating. The air was cold, but not in a damp, chilled-to-the-bone way. It was a dry cold like how I remember New Jersey in the fall. It was crisp and clear and hushed. The stars shone brightly, and truly, like diamonds. It pinked up my cheeks nicely.
Today was sunny and a bit windy, but cold unless you stood in the sun. Rob and I ran a couple errands and bought some rib-eyes to barbecue. While I was prepping our dinner, Rob was outside getting the barbecue started when he found out that this evening's entertainment at the community center was 'The Grandmas and Grandpas.' We decided we'd go listen tonight. It was delightful, but we stayed for only half of the performance. Many people got up and sang even though you could tell they never were very good at it, but they were fearless and unselfconscious, and that in itself was worthy of lively applause. There were probably a dozen people playing instruments, but two musicians stood out. One was a guitarist called Tex. He got the spotlight as he carried the riffs. He got up and sang a tune as well. I'm guessing he was somewhere between 80 and 85 years old. The other was a fiddle player called Willie. He was really darned good and garnered a lot of applause during his solos. I wondered out loud how old he is and Rob somehow knew that he and his wife have been married for 66 years. Doing the math, he's pushing 90 at the least, but I think he's older. Rob and I left at the break but first I watched people help Willie get on his feet, keeping hold of him the whole time, while someone else brought him his walker. If we come back here next year for a spell, I hope we get to see him again. Each day may be like the others, but each day is a gift—to use, enjoy, appreciate, and to savor—as I'm sure Willie would agree.