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Resolutely working through the piles
By Deborah Taylor-Hollis
The New Year is upon us, and with it comes not only resolutions about the coming year, but reviewing the ones that we have left behind. Some years are easier than others (the ones with great vacations and job promotions) and others are easier to forget (the ones with deaths and disasters and falling stock options).
For me, the end of each year is a bit of a hodgepodge. I try to clean out my computer of all the "still gotta answer" mail, and clean out the freezer (the Otter Pops box from summer with all the green ones still in it comes to mind). I also try to clean out my personal irritations.
Some things are easy to clear out. I want to call the city to make Lincoln Avenue a "no left turns" street. I am tired of being in backed-up traffic due to the Jamba Juice patrons going south during morning rush, and the B of A customers going north during the afternoon rush. Call me crazy, but I kind of think that social etiquette means you don't block 400 drivers behind you while you wait for a clear spot that obviously isn't coming.
I still keep staring at the Garden Theater and wondering whatever happened to that ticket kiosk, and am sure that I will keep bringing up its disappearance well into the next century.
While I spend my free time complaining about the little irritations of public life, I also micromanage my family. I am not happy that my son wants to empty the dryer--nope--I actually want him to put the clothes in the correct rooms. The pile of clean towels in the living room and the clean boys' underwear on the kitchen counters is just not working for me. I guess I expect too much in the world. It could be worse of course--it could be dirty boys' underwear on the kitchen counter.
Have you finished with your Halloween candy yet? Not us. The boy only went out for 90 minutes and got about two-thirds of a paper shopping bag's worth of candy. Since he's only allowed to have one piece a day (and sneaks maybe three others), eating it all will take a while. Even when you factor in the fact that his dad is eating five to six pieces of the good stuff every day on his way by the "available" bowl on the table. Even if you figure in that I am eating three to four every day out of the "hidden" cache of the best stuff in the Tupperware in the kitchen behind the lima bean cans. Go figure ... we will have candy through Easter. Which is the American dream, I guess. Chocolate 24-7, 365.
I notice that the couch cover is wrinkled and I straighten it out. Two hours later I notice that it is off the end of the couch and I straighten it out. At the end of the day I notice that it is slumped all over the floor and I straighten it out. Nobody else in the house notices, or seems to care. Is it because if the grease/dirt/candy gets on the couch they don't care either? Or do they not see? I am going to staple the darned couch cover to the framing on the backside of my beautiful couch--let them just try to mess it up then.
The house is too small at this time of year, with everything open and underfoot, a dead tree in the corner blinking at me all night long, a constant reminder that I have not even bought all the presents yet and need to mail some late to distant ports of call. I dream of days when everything is put away, dusted and cleaned, organized and completed and all I have to look forward to is a good book and a long bath.
That probably isn't going to happen in my lifetime. It is a fantasy of monumental proportions. I have too many projects, too many commitments, and too many things to pay attention to. Have I watered the houseplants? Do all the Tupperware bowls have lids? Has every single Lego part ever brought into the house been put inside the official Lego, play set box? Will I ever find my dollhouse up in my parent's attic?
And on a larger scale, is the developer who bought the house down the street going to lie to the permit department again? Are my new neighbors really as wonderful as they first appeared? Is there really a new law that says I can't turn right on a red anymore?
The New Year has barely begun, but the baggage I am dragging with me from the old one seems to dull the shine of January days.
Maybe my resolutions for this year should just be to finish and forget all the things I have to do, get them over and done with before I start a new project, accept a new committee, plan a new vacation, or dig a new flowerbed. The one exception I will make is that I will continue to make new friends. Hopefully ones that like Halloween candy and green Otter Pops.
Deborah can be reached by email at DTHOLLIS@svcn.com.
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Willow Glen, California Since 1992
