The sun has gone down on the first day of a new year. A glorious day, contrasting sharply with the way I felt yesterday.
I really don't do the last day of the year well. I spent yesterday swinging between obsessive cleaning and chucking out anything in my path. Sorry kids. One shelf of the pantry is impeccably clean, but I can't find a set of house keys. I can't remember how I felt on the final day of 2011, but this time around, the end of the year filled me with nerves. Like if I get excited about the new year, it will kick me like a startled horse. It always sneaks up on me, the new year. We only waved off our final beautiful house guests on Sunday, so we decided to stay home and see the new year in. Just, together. We ate party food, watched the nine-o'clock fireworks with the kids, I made myself a vodka, lime and ginger beer and drank it in a few gulps before realising I had used alcoholic ginger beer. We went to bed and missed the whole thing. Perfect.
I woke up in the new year and baked a loaf of bread. I replanted one of my indoor pot plants. I collected some seeds from my garden. Nasturtiums and coriander. I fed my kids breakfast. And I thought, Hey, 2013, I'm not scared of you. I don't know what is around this corner, or any corner in our lives, but I do hope it's filled with more of the magic of today's ordinary. Strong, competent children splashing in the waves in the morning, a simple meal for lunch, restful afternoon naps, a late afternoon park play.
As we left the beach this morning, I saw a family of Willy Wagtails playing in the dunes. A family of five. And I know we belong here.