Happy New Year Ramblings, part the first

Happy 2012, faithful readers. The end of one year and the start of a new one always provide good excuse to ramble, and so I will. I still have a while before I need to make myself presentable for the traditional New Year's Day open house and book swap held by some friends. Not the most romance friendly environment, but the company is good, their dog is fun and I get to scarf free noms while meeting interesting people. Plus I've been to two UBSes and B&N this week, so I thnk I'm good for a while. More on that later, as the clock is ticking.

I think our Christmas decorations are trying to tell us something. A few years back, DH and I acquired a much-beloved lighted wreath, and shortly after that, a Christmas tree made of red tinsel, like so:

These two items have been mainstays of our Christmas decorating scheme, centered around the bedroom bookcase, since our apartment is what can best be termed "cozy." This year, they both went dark. I should also mention that the blinds have been replaced (the tear not being my fault, for those who keep track of these things) and same with the lamp, in favor of a nifty vintage 50s treasure. DH and I do have replacement bulbs and we are willing to do the work required to find the culprits in case our decorations are of the "if one goes down, they all go down" persuasion, which they well may be.

Due to a serious conversation we had at another of our holiday gatherings, the red tree will have to be saved, since when we are in a bigger place, we need to have a small tree in every window. We are willing to take heroic measures to save the wreath, as A) it was given to a dear friend by my dad on one of his final Christmases, B) said friend thinks it's one of the ugliest things she's ever seen, and C) DH and I recognize its inherent perfection. Our hearts will not break if the red tree can't be brought back to life; last night, I wound a spare string of clear lights around it and on with the show. That will do for now, and with the dying of the light (sorry, couldn't resist) coinciding with the January sales on all things Christmassy, this is the perfect time for me to snag a new mini tree, free of guilt.

The question then is, what kind of tree? I've seen black trees -though sadly, the last time I remember seeing one in the flesh as it were, was at dearly departed Borders- and would love to do a forest of different colored trees, but I'm getting the urge for a traditional green one as well. At lunch with writing friends, I nearly got as excited about a wayward evergreen snippet that had found its way into my gift bag as I did the gift itself. Driving around to peep at strangers' light displays always tears me in two directions; the classy all-white lights and the cacophany of colored ones. I have come to the conclusion I may eventually need two houses so I can indulge in both, but I'll need to sell a few (million?) more books first.

Though I recieved no new books at Christmas, many did come home, both novels and research tomes, over Christmas Week, and it's entirely possible more will come home today. Actually, it's a slam dunk that there will be at least one, as our hostess is extremely vigilant in that regard; all guests must leave with at least one book. Not sure at the moment what I'll be bringing to the swap (apologies to the one gal who has said she waits to see what I'll be bringing, as I don't know if I'll be hauling anything romancey in that direction, but will try) but I'm not going to sweat it. I have what I have and I'm donating what I'm donating and that's going to have to do.

All of this is a roundabout way of saying that this year is going to be the getting back to my roots/core/authentic self year, writing and otherwise. A few days ago, I sent off a paper letter to a writer friend, for the pure reason that it felt good to do so. Pretty pages are a good place to let my brain droppings spill, twirling around each other and combining into something I might not have expected when I first opened the file or put pen to paper. I do know that I owe some friends some long-promised mail art, and thanks for the patience; mail art is getting scheduled into my days, and since the most gorgeous day planner in the history of history is soon to arrive in my mailbox, sticking to my schedule is going to be a lot easier this year.

Well. No surprise here, I've taken the scenic route and time has not stopped, so I will leave this here for now and be back in the AM with part the second, wherein I ramble about reading, writing and other creative matters.