Happy New Year!

When I woke up this morning and looked out my bedroom window, the frosty tree limbs grabbed my attention. Maybe we should’ve cancelled coffee? Later, I found Brian standing in the middle of the alley looking like a caroling Peanuts character in his trapper hat. Through a crystal canopy that lined the way, he looked toward the golf course.

“It’s quite beautiful,” he said. “A real winter wonderland.”

He was on coffee duty. On Saturday mornings, it’s his job to set up the table and plug in the coffee pot in time to be ready for whoever shows up. When I moved my car to the front – also in preparation for our guests – I ran into Emily and Justin who were on their way over. When Emily stopped to notice the ice crystals that had formed on some dried wild flowers, “Close up!” was a natural thought. Despite the fancy camera and the tripod, these are mediocre snapshots.

Born of the pandemic, we’ve been hosting coffee for just over two years. Here’s what I posted about it in the early days:

“Three weeks ago, Brian Harmon and I bought a coffee urn. On Saturday mornings we’ve been offering coffee to the neighbors on the lawn (or in the garage if it rains). It’s BYOC (bring your own cup). I’ll be curious to see how far into the winter we can go before people quit coming. Or maybe that’s exactly when we’ll need such a thing, when we’re feeling even more cooped up. People have appreciated this (someone just left a medium roast from the Mississippi Market on my porch) and have done a good job of maintaining the proper social distance. We know that sometimes it might be just the two of us because it’s drop-in-if-you-feel-like-it, no RSVP needed. But so far that hasn’t happened. If you ever want to drop in to say hello, feel free. Rain or shine. We will be there.”

Rebekah Smith, Facebook, October 2, 2020

With all eyes on a beautiful sunny day, no one at coffee noticed that my shoes didn’t match. I didn’t catch it until I took them off, prompting me to quiz Brian.

“What’s wrong with this picture?”

Seeing Miss Ruby this morning was a treat. Zipped up in a comfy bag, she and her doll arrived on a Norwegian push sled pushed by her dad. Upon learning that her favorite song is Dancing Queen, Brian brought out the Red Sox Bluetooth speaker, a gift from his sister.

She let me off easy this year. It could have been a bedroom set.

After coffee, Brian usually makes a “rail hand breakfast,” a reference to the eggs and hash browns I used to order pre-pandemic. We haven’t been in a restaurant ever since a server at Pizza Lucé gave us her roller derby card. It was right before the first “safer in place”/lock down mandates. And I remember it feeling eerie sitting at the bar, like “Should we be doing this?”

Thank goodness for my friend Alex. We were discussing a time to meet and he mentioned Zoom, which was unknown to me at the time. “I’d rather meet in person,” I said. He set me straight. Along with the NBA shutting down when Rudy Gobert tested positive for Covid-19, it’s one of my first memories of “Oh, this is serious.” It was odd because I had recently attended a rally for Senator Bernie Sanders who was running for president. There were thousands of people there. I remember seeing one person – just one – with a mask and thinking, “What’s up with that?” The rally was at once exhilarating and foreboding. As the arena, twinkling with magical screens and going round and round and round in feverish waves, I couldn’t help but think: “Should we be doing this?” Now it’s strange to listen to the recordings I made that day. It was the last time since the onset of the pandemic that I have walked up to a random person on the street and said, “Can I ask you a question for my podcast?”

Maybe I’ve lost my nerve.

In addition to making breakfast on Saturdays, Brian names them. Today, he knocked on my office door, cracked it open and announced, “Your ‘Dancing Queen Irish Cream Rail Hand’ is ready.”

We covered “Dancing Queen,” Ruby’s favorite song. As for the Irish Cream, I assure you that coffee in the yard is usually alcohol-free. But it’s New Year’s Eve. So, when I brought out some chocolates, I grabbed a bottle just in case anyone might enjoy “a snort.” Is that how you say that? It’s not something I normally say but I heard it at coffee this morning and thought I’d give it a try.

Speaking of… Dancing Queen.

Speaking of… Irish cream.

Speaking of breakfast… specifically eggs. Do you notice anything funny about this picture?

In one case (the eggshell on the right), the break is clean. In the other case (left), the egg is cracked with cartoon zigzags, like this:

As for Christmas, it was lovely. As Brian has said (and I have repeated too many times), “We’re up to our asses in socks, books and Clinique!” In fact, these words made it into my five-year journal, something I highly recommend that you keep:

Lovely Christmas Day with Brian and cats Michael and Bert. Chicken dinner reminded me of Grandma Choate. “We’re up to our asses in…”

Christmas, 2022 – Five-Year Journal, Rebekah Smith

The journal makes it easy to look back five years per page. For example, the entry above this was:

Brian made a roast for dinner. Nice gifts. Lots of stuff for woodworking. A router. Clamps. Power stapler…

Christmas, 2021 – Five-Year Journal, Rebekah Smith

And above that:

It’s hard to find a podcast that I like. Brian made a rail hand breakfast and we opened presents. He said he missed shopping this year and the Christmas vibe.

Christmas, 2020 – Five-Year Journal, Rebekah Smith

As I sit here right now, my ankles are warm thanks to my new socks and I am grateful.

The big question this year was whether to put up a tree. For the past few years, we’ve been skipping it, partly due to these two clowns:

Now that Michael and Bert are older, I thought maybe they could handle it.

I was wrong.

They cannot handle it.

Bert didn’t get interested in the tree until after we decorated it. And then he proceeded to undo it.

It was lovely for about a minute. But now the tree is a mess because I’ve given up on fluffing it up and rearranging the lights every morning. So, I’ll probably take it down sooner than I normally would, which is just as well. Valentine’s Day is late for boughs of holly.

We were supposed to look at cross country skis today. Maybe tomorrow? Tonight, there will be a movie because my friend Craig insisted that I watch The Glass Onion. The coffee crowd agreed. We’re guaranteed to love it. Good. The last movie that Brian and I watched together was The Vanishing. As a palate cleanser afterwards, we went to Tom Papa. It was a good movie (I think). But it was intense. Tragic. Sad. Disturbing. Usually, my kind of movie. Not so much Brian. We still haven’t talked about it. Not much. Brian called it a story about breaking from procedures. Initially I saw it about – not greed exactly – but shifting morality. Pivotal escalating choices. However, the more I think about it, the more I like Brian’s perspective.

At coffee, Ralph said that he was in a Quaker group that would bring in the New Year with a meditation. From 11:30 p.m. until midnight, they would sit together in silence, except for the ticking of a thousand clocks. None of them synced. Insert smiley face here.

So, that’s the report, as disjointed as it might be.

Happy 2023.

Rebekah