New year, new ewe

I always hesitate to hop on the annual New Years reset-olution bandwagon, just as I always (yes, ALWAYS) dare not wish away the end of the previous year, no matter how trying it has been. The fact is, life is tough sometimes. I wouldn’t wish it away, though. This is the only chance I have at living, as far as I know. I’m not going to waste my energy devaluing it. So, yeah. Life is a flat circle and all that, let’s just do our best.

It occurs me lately that although times have been depressing, dangerous, and downright scary, I’ve been on the good foot. I’ve been able to work more this past year than in several years past. I’ve been doing things that need to be done around the house instead of ignoring them. I’ve been actively thinking about the future, and how two old GenXers like Tim and me can turn ourselves toward a future of elegant, simplified living, tons of travel, and good food. How we’ll eventually balance our need to get the most of life with our desire to be present for our children as they grow into adulthood. These are some big, heavy, philosophical things to cogitate over, you know? But I feel like we’ll do it. We’ll have so much fun–and we’ll need to focus on that fun, because when all four of the kids have left the nest, I think non-stop fun is the only thing to keep your mind from wondering if they are okay…and if their kids are okay…is everyone okay? How can I help? What should I research? Does the library have books on this topic? Give me a fortnight and I will be right back with a PhD.

One of the more challenging goals I have set for the future is to desensitize my Pomeranian to sketchy television. When I say “sketchy,” I mean any show with an animal on it–or in some instances, a too-realistic cartoon.

I adopted Grantham when I was having leftover grief and trauma from a cycle of miscarriages and familial losses. All my kids were soon to be in school all day, and Grantham was to be my substitute baby. Long story short, my kids ended up needing me a lot more the past five years than I had expected, and maybe I am turning into a serial animal adopter. (As I type that, the kitten has appeared in my office window, mewing to be let into the house.)

So we are now up to three cats, four dogs, and six chickens (well, five + a guinea cock). I feel like this a reasonable amount of pets for a household of six ruralites, such as ourselves, and I make no apologies.

But.

If we’re going to sell this house in a few years and move into something smaller, more streamlined, and dare-I-dream even remotely minimalist, then…I can’t adopt any new furballs. I need to stay on top of the fluff that piles up around here, already. (My allergies require that, as well.)

Acquiring new pets isn’t the only habit to put on hold this year. Acquiring new *things* is, as well. And this one stings quite a bit because I tend to already be a very eco-conscious consumer, visiting estate sales, auctions, thrift stores, garage sales (remember those? miss them) and the like before I buy anything new.

But I look around my house, and it’s full. It’s a HAPPY FULL and for that, I am grateful. It’s time to start back down the staircase. We’ve hit capacity, time to shed. I’m keeping the kids, husband, and pets. That means the stuff has to go. It means more than manually laboring through the house to collect, sort, and distribute, though. It means a change of mindset.

Does that make me a new person? Of course not. But I have to say, I’m pretty excited about the things I’ve accomplished lately, and about the happiness I feel when I think of these modest goals for my future. Not to say that a life-changing goal is a modest goal, because it’s really not–but I do feel like the actions that need to be taken on a daily basis to change my habits permanently are modest, in themselves. Modest steps, modest goals, huge results.

This time next year I hope things are only getting better.

PS Grantham successfully watched Babe with me yesterday. :)