One of my family's traditions is watching the Rose Parade on New Year's Day. My earliest memory of New Year's is the year my brother marched in the parade. We got a new (color) TV for Christmas that year so that we could watch for him. He played trombone, so it was a real possibility (they march in the front row, typically). I don't remember if we did, I don't really remember the actual parade itself that year, but I do know that ever since then I've always turned on the parade for some period of time while I sorted out calendars, put away Christmas presents, took down the tree, did a jigsaw puzzle, or some other putzy holiday-related thing.
Always, except for the year--nine years after my brother--I marched in the parade too.
I do not remember having to wait a day to do all this, however. I'm sure New Year's must have fallen on a Sunday at some point in my life before 2006, but this year it has thrown me for a loop. I'm not actually complaining: one more day of putting of "reality" isn't such a bad thing. But it does seem to be dragging out the holiday season to the extreme.
We're having our annual fondue tonight. Usually it's on New Year's Eve. But I was too lazy to go to the store and buy the ingredients over the weekend. I'll go today, since my intention is to actually (gasp!!) start cooking again this week, after at least 7 days of leftovers, Stouffers, pizza, and eating out.
What this all means is that I'm feeling a bit as if I'm living in a very comfortable cocoon of tradition, family, and sloth helped along considerably by the new laptop, The Sims, and Beast who has been doing laundry, tidying up the house and generally doing work while I laze about. I will pay for this, but it has truly been lovely.
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