I’m hoping that the superstition I have always sorta believed, that as your New Year’s Day goes, so goes the new year for you, doesn’t always come true. Because I didn’t have the greatest day yesterday, New Year’s Day. On our walk the day before, the morning of NYE, I fell on some ice and hit my head. I was furious with myself when I landed, “F***; F***; F***; I’m NOT going to the ER with a concussion during pandemic”, but seemed like all was OK, and we continued walking. I had Mark check out the back of my head when we stopped to order our coffee, I figured he could look for damage while I was bent over my phone ordering. There was a developing bump but that was all.
So, we continued our NYE celebrations. We had a zoom toast with some old friends – I stuck to non-alcoholic Riesling thinking I should avoid alcohol after the bump on the head. I made a bunch of appetizers, and we watched the Avett Brothers streamed concert.
Devilled eggs – I got the filling a little too soupy, squares of sourdough focaccia with goat cheese and leek confit, Lutheran sushi (ham & pickle rolls – I liked the name better than the rolls), pepperoni roll, one avocado’s worth of guacamole & chips, all the whole and close-to-whole ones I could pick out of a giant Costco bag of chips, a few sauteed shrimp, veggies & dill dip, and crackers. And a plate of the last of the cookies, see overleaf.
[portfolio_slideshow pagerpos=disabled]
So that was the Eve. On the Day, I made cinnamon scones for breakfast, and we walked with yax trax. I spent most of the day feeling tired and sore and not quite right. And a little guilty. And I couldn’t get a hold of John and that made me even more nervous and freaked out. Seems like I pulled every muscle in my stomach, and also whiplashed my neck. And I think I landed on my left arm. Guilty due to the pain, that I assume could have been avoided if I was doing more exercise to build core strength.
Didn’t do much of anything productive, but at least I got my New Years cards addressed.
I’m hoping my bad Day 1 of 2021 can be counteracted. We had Hoppin’ John – black eyed peas – for dinner, for luck, with wedge salad subbed in for greens. I think the greens are supposed to bring money in the new year, but the salad was largely green too, so maybe it’ll qualify. And Mark, the optimist, said that maybe I shouldn’t worry about a bad day on New Year’s Day, because after that there’s nowhere to go but up. Fingers crossed.
And oh, yeah, my sister-in-law’s making all this cool stuff to kissoff 2020, beer cozies and napkins and coasters for when we can gather together again for a drink. I asked her to send me some jpg’s and I can iron them onto fabric for masks.
Happy 2021 everyone!