What next?
What will I do next? That’s a question I often ask myself these days and the answer often is — I don’t know. December is my vacation month, not because it’s Christmas but because it’s hard to get students to class in December. Everyone is held up by traffic or parties. Everyone is caught up in shopping. So I have named December as my vacation month. My calendar clears. I have nothing important to do. My time is mine to spend.
So what will I do next? I guess today I will clean my house. I emptied my desk of two sacks of unwanted paper, several CDs, assorted tape cassettes, programs, souvenirs, and other memorabilia. I personally transferred one of my glass-and-metal shelves from the dining room to my bedroom and moved out a wooden bookshelf. I emptied, pushed and shoved by myself. Four days of this and I was dead tired. My house is so much cleaner now.
There are changes. My butterfly paintings are up in my living room. I nailed them up myself. My mother’s portrait and her two slipper paintings are also up in my dining room. In a corner stands the wooden bookshelves holding my 12-inch bead tree and over the tree a cherub swings holding grapes of the sweetest red, whose light dissolves in and out every evening just for me. I even have a Christmas wreath on my door. I have complied with all the duties of Christmas and am happy about it.
What will I do next? Next week my daughter will arrive from
This past week I have been socializing. I went to The Cheese Club’s Christmas party where I particularly enjoyed their Pinot Noir, cheeses, pates, raclette, all washed down with delicious turkey. Did I write that right? Maybe it was the Pinot Noir.
Then I went to Maria Brumann’s ladies’ lunch at her lovely home. There is something that clicks between Maria and me though each time we see each other, other people come into the picture. But anyway, lunch was delicious and so was the stream of wine that just kept pouring —champagne, a refreshing white, followed by a delicious red. At the end of lunch she invited a group of young folk to sing for us. They were members of SELF – Self Enhancement for Life Foundation, a therapeutic community for the treatment of substance abuse and attitude disorders. This is an important group, very necessary in our country today. I was happy to be part of the crowd at the ladies’ lunch that day.
The wine was excellent, too, but something told me I had been drinking too much. I must stay home and hold off on the drinking for a week at least. True, my painting style has been labeled “very European,” but that does not have to carry over to my taste in wine. Or maybe I should have a consistent uniform package that’s high on wine. That would not be bad at all. You have had a stroke, I remind myself. For the first time you feel really well now. Don’t overdo it. Sigh!
How strange life is, I think. Last year things were sad. This year I am socializing more than usual. I must sit and make the schedule for next year’s classes, I tell myself every morning as I wake up to another charming day. That question quickly gets shoved aside. In my vacation-cum-holiday mode, I prefer the other one — what will I do next? That is far more exciting for me.
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