New Year's Day Party

Today was TerriG and Laurie's annual "New Year's Day Pajama-Story Brunch." They invite friends to come (in pajamas, if they're comfortable with that) and bring a story or a poem to share. That's the part I love. But it's also a pot-luck, so each person brings food. This is a source of anxiety for me.

My mother was a wreck in the kitchen, my grandmother's burnt gravy and hard biscuits were the butt of many jokes, and although my great-grandmother was beloved for her kindness, her good humor, and her poems, her cooking was one disaster after another. We are the kind of women to whom others say, "Why don't you just pick up some ice cream on the way over?" We burn things, dry things out, or undercook them. In our hands, things that should be fluffy go flat, things that should be flaky turn to rubber, and things that are normally flat develop odd growths like fungi. So I fulfilled my food obligation as simply as I could, with a bowl of quinoa and avocado slices, but the best part was the stories.

Ruth wrote a story about her mad cat. I read a Naomi Replansky poem. Terri read a piece on wonder, Connie a brilliant essay by Anne Fadiman on insomnia, and Laurie, a story about lesbian grandmothers. Jayla told a story about her resourceful grandmother who cleaned buses and sold gin by the shot glass, and after each reading we all talked and laughed and sighed and marveled. Today's portrait is of Terri in a moment of reflection. The sun was going down, we were all talked out, and nobody could quit smiling. Terri's gaze of affectionate, tired satisfaction is just how the day felt to me.

Happy New Year to all my Blip friends, and thanks for your comments on Manko's first Christmas wish. Ppatrick pointed out, "If the increased share of income that has gone to the world's richest 5% since 1980 had gone instead to the poorest 25%, there would be no more severe poverty, anywhere." I am still sitting with that brilliant statistic. Think about that.

I have a new Blip resolution. In Arachne's 365th Blip she declared, "I'm going to comment a lot less. If there's something I'm bursting to say, I'll say it, otherwise please know that I am appreciating quietly. Please, too, don't think you have to spend your time saying thanks for any comments I do make."

I really like that and am setting it as my new standard.