In With the New

Staring boldly into 2010. Note the festive holiday garb--you will be seeing more of this sweater vest shortly, I promise.

Goodness, me, look at the time! It's December 31. Anything you still need to do before the end of the year? I was going to take a bunch of stuff to Goodwill, but instead I took Hank to the doctor. He has an ear infection in both ears. His cold was finally going away, very slowly, but then he woke up this morning complaining that his ear hurt. I'm very glad I took him instead of starting into the long weekend with a sick kid. And did you know that the Publix pharmacy gives free oral antibiotics? There's a list of several common drugs that they will give you, up to a 14 day supply. Awesome. It's how the world should be.

I do love New Year's Eve. A long time ago I had the realization that I love this occasion so much because I never have any particular expectations for it. You can celebrate with many other people or just one, and it can be lively or it can be a little solemn. More than Christmas or other holidays, I love hearing people's stories of what they did.

For some reason, one New Year's celebration that is sticking in my mind today is years ago, I can't remember what year it was turning. We were up on the rooftop of the Pickle Barrel in downtown Chattanooga. This must have been in the late 90's because we hadn't moved to California yet. The town fathers had promised a display of "European Style" fireworks--my my how sophisticated!--so we were all up on the roof getting merry. I sat down on a chair that had a puddle of ice water in it. Two people were making out near us. One had yellow hair and one had blue, and Matt leaned over to me and said, "Their baby's hair is going to be a lovely green." At the stroke of twelve the fireworks began. Hmm, we thought. They must be just getting warmed up, because these are rather underwhelming. No big explosions or shapes. Like a slightly less exciting Roman candle, and kind of fizzly. And then they were over and the air smelled like a poot. So for years, in our household, anything that should be cool but kind of sucks is dubbed "European style." Sorry Europe, you are awesome, but what I saw that night from the Pickle Barrel did not do you justice.

I need to scurry to the kitchen and start fixing our New Year's Eve supper. Salmon cakes are a big favorite around here, and I just realized that I could have been calling them "galettes" all this time, thus upping our fancy quotient. Thanks, Mark Bittman. So we're having salmon galettes, y'all! Also champagne, and I am certain, pitchers of our usual cosmo potion as the night wears on.

Happy New Year to you from the Suburban Matron family! Have fun and lemme know what goes down at your place.

Oh, and to quote Garrison Keillor, from his anti-boastful family Christmas letter, "We hope to be able to meet the challenges of the coming year, but we are by no means confident."