I have been reading a book about writing. It is excellent, and I keep stopping to think about things I have just read. I should have finished by now, but midnight is approaching and I feel that I should honour the new year in some way.
Two glasses of muscato with strawberries floating in it were delightful but not quite enough celebration to call it a party. Music, and company, would be nice but the silence has its own beauty and I appreciate it very much.
It is cold outside, far too cold to go out and look for fireworks. I doubt that I could see any if there were celebrations anyway, as we are surrounded by pine trees.
How different it is from my two homes, Italy and NZ. Here I don't feel at home, I am just staying for a while. I am glad to be here, and it is increasingly familiar, but I will be glad to be home again too.
I want/need to write, to paint, to create. Too many projects are unfinished, or still mere ideas. It is time to face my fears and simply "do it".
I am still contemplating the most appropriate word to live by in 2014, and I have twelve minutes to decide what it will be. No, I have four minutes. My word for the last two years (I didn't feel that I had achieved it well enough in one year) still remains my secret. Perhaps I will share it in a blog post of its own.
And now, as the midnight hour approaches, I have my new word. In fact, I have three. Why choose only one? And so my checklist will be a multiple one, as I review each day.
I hear fireworks! Happy New Year, everybody!
This year I am so very grateful for the new additions to our family.