a few of the pleasures of 2024
What else to do on December 23 but review the year? It’s cold and bleak, and awhile ago I went out to do errands as it started to snow, but when there discovered I’d lost my bicycle key, couldn’t park the bike, had to go home. Now I need to wrap and decorate; we are celebrating Xmas tomorrow afternoon, after Anna finishes work at 3, because the boys are going with Ben’s dad Matt on Dec. 25. So for the first time in my life, in all my 74 years, I will have absolutely nothing to do on Dec. 25. It will be a relief and also very very quiet, possibly too quiet. Maybe I’ll go to a movie with all the Jewish Torontonians. We’ll see.
In the meantime, here are some things that brought me pleasure this year:
Midlife Solo officially came out in February 2024. Many very nice reviews from readers. Taped the audiobook which perhaps three fine people have listened to.
True to Life bought by a Chinese publisher. With an actual advance! In U.S. dollars! Actual money! For my writing!
After decades of indecision and a ton of cash, I got rid of my American citizenship. Just in time.
I started a Substack, Touchpoints: a writer’s truth. After a post about the Alice Munro scandal, I received a reply from her daughter Sheila, thanking me for a thoughtful, nuanced essay. Meant a great deal.
Naps.
The Olympics – at least, the opening and closing ceremonies, lithe young people at the top of their game, the world in harmony – an eon ago, seems a dream now, as the world rages and fights.
Being chosen to teach at the San Miguel Writers’ Conference next February.
Our yearly visit from my dear ex, here for nearly a week – a nuclear family once more.
On an unfortunate trip to Europe in April, during which I got very sick, I met my fourth cousin Lesley and her husband Duncan for the first time, and liked them immediately. Family!
On the same trip, visiting my mother’s natal territory Northamptonshire with friend Penny – Potterspury, Towcester, Northampton – and then a stay in Liverpool, Beatle country, with her. She’s another kind of family.
My William Morris heritage roses. A third kind of family.
Four days at Ruth’s island cottage with Ruthie and Annie. O Canada.
Seeing the powerful and moving eco-doc The Giants with the Suzukis, and arranging to subsequently show it again to 112 people.
Talks at various book clubs, Word on the Street etc. How I love to talk. Will this woman never shut up?
Ben is chosen for a Blue Jays Cares ad campaign.
Still healthy. Painful arthritis in my right thumb, that’s new; mild hearing loss, the need for low dose statins. Had Covid and a bad flu or possibly another bout of Covid this year. Otherwise – very lucky, so far. Very.
Reading stories to the boys on the phone some nights.
Did I mention naps?
So that’s a few things about 2024.
The other day, waiting for the streetcar, I looked in the mirror store on Gerrard and caught a glimpse of myself. I looked old, with many new lines etched in my cheeks and new blotches and bumps. My mother had beautiful plump British skin until the end, but she did not pass it on to me, too much sun in my life. It’s too bad to be so wrinkled, yes it is. Yet I’m grateful not to be vain, not to worry about needing to look pretty and young for a partner or an audience. It is what it is, as they say, and what it is is a 74-year old face that has been around.
And it’s alive, which is what counts.
Here’s a photo Annie just sent of another time, old friends, Gay, Terry, Annie, moi, Nancy White, Annie’s sister Chrissie. We can’t even remember where this was. We called ourselves the Crones though we were young. Our faces were smooth, our hair glossy brown and gold. But we didn’t know what we know now.
More good news: 
Macca going strong at 82, playing recently, sixty years later and using the same guitar, with Ringo, 84. Joy! Joy to the world, there’s music, there’s art, there’s family. Let’s eat.
And nap.
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