The holidays are over, partying finished, guests gone, house empty except for us. It was great fun and we’ll feast on delicious memories long after the last of the turkey ends up in a soup.
It’s a new year, time to get busy cleaning crumbs from under the table, filling one more plastic bag with oddments of the season, fishing someone’s glasses out of the crack between sofa cushions. Time to take down the tree, carry Christmas decorations to the basement, figure out where to put all the new stuff, try on the shirt, struggle with conscience (without will to win) about the cans of nuts and bags of chocolates from those who love us.
And, as memory returns through a calorie-colored mist, we return to tasks left scattered like good intentions a hundred years ago when we rushed off to celebrate the season.