Happy New Year everyone!
The holiday season this year was calm and wonderful. I spent Christmas with The Logger Family in Pawlet. There was yummy Mexican food a-plenty and good company. Fighting was kept to a minimum except for one outburst about appreciating your family history and being proud of being Dutch because they weren't WWII Nazis. I didn't mention anything about the horrific Dutch slave trades or the fact that they ruined their own economy with their obsession with tulips. Being Italian probably makes my own family tree pretty dark at parts, but if you go back far enough in history, no one is innocent anyway. Being American makes your family heritage seem extremely far away and removed anyway and being American is not currently giving me much pride. Thus, I declined to take part in this conversation.
New Years Eve was spent here in Manchester. Albert fired his DJ for the evening so Max and Oliver and I kind of threw some list minute stuff together with Theo's sound system. I borrowed a mirror ball from the Dorset Theatre and Albert found this crazy mirror ball projector thing that projected shapes onto a disco ball which spun the shapes around the room. The fact that there were star shapes spinning around the room made me super happy.
The Logger ended up washing dishes all night, which was a shame for me because I had no one to entertain me (read: no one to pester) all night. He bought a new sweater from The Gap and put on clean jeans for the occasion, which might be the most dressed up he's been since Oliver's wedding. True it was a formal dinner and dancing New Years Eve party, but that's pretty formal for The Logger, so it counts. But like I said he ended up in the kitchen anyway.
Max and I downloaded a ton of music to play and I watched over it during dinner, and then Max took over during dancing. This worked out well because no one wanted to dance to the music I put on. Story of my life. This crowd was not into anything after 1970. Nothing. Don't even try it. Johnny Cash? Who the hell does that guy think he is anyway? Can't dance to it. Micheal Jackson? Hell no. Frank Sinatra? It's about time, now where's my dance partner? Lost him when you put on that modern crap you call "music".
I left the Inn early and got a New Years Eve kiss all snuggled in bed. My offer to play Auld Lang Syne on my compy was declined. I love going to bed early, even on New Year's Eve.