I am happy that Christmas programming has stopped. TV viewing will soon be bearable once more if not enlightening. Ed is under a lot of strain because he programs himself to do stuff and is then exhausted. I keep reminding him he is a volunteer and that he is retired but some people have to overwork.

I can’t volunteer too because there is only one car and this area has no public transportation. When people do see a bus, they stop and stare in awe. That’s okay because I like not having “shoulds” and “ought to’s” in my life. Of course there are the daily obligations but everything else is “been there, done that”.

Debby-to-whom-one cannot-say-no recruited me into the “Hookers” – a macramé group that evolved into a help organization. I told her I’d pay my dues but not to count on me for volunteering. And so has been the case. I came down here from NYC, tired and over-extended. I haven’t gotten over that yet. And, as I’ve written before, I can’t even manage the once-a-week 3-hour art class on Saturdays any more. It is amazing how losing three hours out of the week can mess one up. Also, I do not feel I am learning anything. The art I did years ago is still inside of me. What is needed is constant drawing to get any of it back and that I can do on my own and, apparently, I don’t want to.

I managed to walk and do my ballet routine today. It has been too cold for outdoor exercises but today was mild, in the 70s. With any luck, I’ll shed the 3 lbs. I gained while eating out.

The New Year’s Eve party we went to was pleasant, about 15 people or so, nice, new house relatively near us but in an area that has only recently been developed. We cruised through it about three years ago and got lost in the marked out plots. There were no landmarks, no houses, and we couldn’t find our way back to a marked road. Of course, eventually, we did.

We left about 9 and came home to give Brunswick his epilepsy med and then I crashed, and didn’t even watch the ball come down in Times Square. Apparently the New Year came in, but I wasn’t helping. I feel sure someone will let me know if this actually did not happen.

There is a new bridge being built from the mainland to our island. It is going up right next to the old bridge. The lanes of the old bridge have been narrowed and using them is a strain (well, nerve wracking comes to mind) but it’s the only route off and on. I am in constant fear that I will scrape the concrete divider that has been erected. When it is done there will be a jog to get on to the new bridge and one to get off and the old bridge will be demolished. This will go on for at least two years. Bummer.

I was watching “Pretty Woman” and came in to write these thoughts and Ed came out and got something else. Okay, it’s a fairy tale anyway but I was in the mood for one. Isn’t it a reach that a transformation from streetwalker to impressive lady can take place in a matter of weeks?

Xx, Teal