J+M+J
I am now sitting on a chair, knitting and typing this post. Thoughts from the year behind me fill my head, and wonders and anticipation of the year ahead. It has been a fine year. It seems to me that almost every blog I now of gives a brief overview, complete with links, of the blog year, so I shall do the same. Frigid January brought stitches close behind the new year, (I hope this year we have a better start). We also went model airplane flying with Mr. Wilson.
February brought the chinese new year, building our own model airplane, making stations of the cross, Valentines, my second of three bouts of Strep throat, Clover, our first bird, and my bangs.
March brought signs of spring, my birthday and Easter. (And, unfortunately, no pictures.)
With April came Alexander’s birthday, Penelope, and results from my exam.
May brought tulips, tornadoes, dance recital, and orioles.
June brought butterflies, flowers, and a trip to the zoo.
In July, there was fireworks, dog-sitting, and drawing.
With august came a skunk and corn, and John’s birthday.
In September we had painting, tomatoes, and a wooly bear.
October came with new pointe shoes, and a pie business (from which I made near $100), and All Saint’s Eve.
November brought the first snow and Mom’s Birthday.
And December closed the year with a grand finale of our trip to Disney World!
This is a poem I always think about at this time of year.
The Death of the Old Year
Full knee-deep lies the winter snow,
And the winter winds are wearily sighing:
Toll ye the church bell sad and slow,
And tread softly and speak low,
For the old year lies a-dying.
Old year you must not die;
You came to us so readily,
You lived with us so steadily,
Old year you shall not die.
He lieth still: he doth not move:
He will not see the dawn of day.
He hath no other life above.
He gave me a friend and a true truelove
And the New-year will take ’em away.
Old year you must not go;
So long you have been with us,
Such joy as you have seen with us,
Old year, you shall not go.
He froth’d his bumpers to the brim;
A jollier year we shall not see.
But tho’ his eyes are waxing dim,
And tho’ his foes speak ill of him,
He was a friend to me.
Old year, you shall not die;
We did so laugh and cry with you,
I’ve half a mind to die with you,
Old year, if you must die.
He was full of joke and jest,
But all his merry quips are o’er.
To see him die across the waste
His son and heir doth ride post-haste,
But he’ll be dead before.
Every one for his own.
The night is starry and cold, my friend,
And the New-year blithe and bold, my friend,
Comes up to take his own.
How hard he breathes! over the snow
I heard just now the crowing cock.
The shadows flicker to and fro:
The cricket chirps: the light burns low:
‘Tis nearly twelve o’clock.
Shake hands, before you die.
Old year, we’ll dearly rue for you:
What is it we can do for you?
Speak out before you die.
His face is growing sharp and thin.
Alack! our friend is gone,
Close up his eyes: tie up his chin:
Step from the corpse, and let him in
That standeth there alone,
And waiteth at the door.
There’s a new foot on the floor, my friend,
And a new face at the door, my friend,
A new face at the door.
2009 shall bring my fourteenth birthday, my first year of high school (still homeschooling), and many more things, which I look forward to with excitement, and a little bit of nervousness.
A+M+D+G
