Right Before Christmas

I hope everyone enjoyed the past few weeks of guest writers’ contributions to Ethel. My aim is to include a few musings of my fellow scribblers throughout the coming new year. This will, of course, allow me some extra time to work on other things like writing the next best-selling novel or devising a solution for global warming. But, having full acquaintance with myself, I’m going to guess I will use that extra time for napping and playing the ukulele.

Winter has come to the mountains, which means the roads to higher elevations will be closed off and all our hiking contained to the lower tracts of trails. That still leaves us plenty of pleasant places to wile away the hours in footsteps. What with the firepit in the back yard and the bocce courts free of charge, we will take full advantage of any weather decent enough to avoid freezing the blood in our veins. It is, once again, time for hot pack yoga–best employed when lying on the mat, but may temptingly morph into a warm, cozy nap or binge-watching session. I will also spend much of the winter planning a means to offer tai chi and yoga classes come spring. Ironing of details is more cumbersome than ironing the dining room curtains but with more curse words. As we are learning, everything takes more time than you would wish it to, so do some tai chi while you wait it out.

Writing Living With Ethel has given me plenty of opportunity for stoking the creative fires and getting the circus out out of my head and onto the page. I intend to extend the blog into 2023. As an update to the past year’s wish list, there has been no progress on the addition desired for the Hobbit House, but we did get a new light in the kitchen and that small detail has made a huge difference in my temperament and cooking capabilities…I can see what I’m doing now.

Right before Christmas our little bungalow is outfitted for the joys of the season. Sparkly things are everywhere. Stockings are hung, packages mailed, etc. Bring on the carols and wassail! And as this year crosses over into the past, I wish you and yours happy holidays and the most fruitful (blissful, restful, intriguing, adventurous or whatever your heart yearns for) of years ahead. And may all your appliances hold out until you can afford to replace them.

With joy,

Cheryl