

By Dorothy Denne
Time to close the old calendar and open the new. This year is going to be different. I’ll get the birthdays, theater dates and all that stuff written in right away. I save the old one to serve as a diary of the year that has just slipped by. I slide the heel of my hand down the new. It won’t lie flat. Give it a couple of days.
On to the second project of the new year. I take the tinsel and ornaments from the tree and replace them in their boxes. No more needles permanently imbedded in the carpet since we’ve gone artificial but I still get pricked as I fold the tree branches.
I visually inventory the decorations on the mantle and the tables. This is the year I’m finally going to get rid of some of the older ones, the bent, the chipped, the dusty.
First the reindeer with the broken leg. Nephew Rolly was three that year. He thought all four legs should be straight. These little snowmen haven’t been pure white for years. I guess nephew Greg made them when he was in kindergarten. How many times have I reglittered this old angel? I remember the night husband Bob sat her by my plate after we had that little tiff. He said I was an angel for giving in.
It’s no use. Maybe next year. Up to the attic with all.
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