What a wonderful thing, sobriety. Oh, it's not that I always believed that, but there came a day when the ugly hangover became so vivid, I chose not to drink the poison in the first place. While the world was partying, I was in bed by 9 pm with a warm quilt up to my nose. Emma, the kitten, was tucked neatly in the curve of my body. I thought if anything of great consequence happened in the world at midnight; if terrorists shot down the crystal ball and blew up Time's Square, I would face it in the morning. Then I remembered they too would be celebrating somewhere in a far country. We're not the only ones with fireworks and champagne. The whole world turned a page last night.
Today was domestic. I baked the most incredible oatmeal raisin cookies and made a pot of chili loaded with bits of onion, celery and green pepper. Now I'm full. Just the cooking does that to me. While out searching for white raisins for the cookies, I purchased a novel by Ken Follett. Fall Of Giants will probably keep me occupied for the night. Pillars Of The Earth was incredible. World Without End which followed years later as a sequel, was even better. Tonight I will leave the television (hypnosis in a box) and read. Tomorrow will be a good day to deconstruct the Christmas tree.
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