Crismis

So this is Crismis. Or that’s what it says on the calendar on my kitchen wall. Written by 6-yo way back last January, when she was a mere Kindergartener, and she went through the calendar painstakingly writing in birthdays and holidays in letters larger than the space allowed. Of course now she is a First Grader, she would know how to write Crismis properly. That’s what a year does for you. And when we went swimming yesterday, she insisted that I use the Winnie the Pooh towel, which is too babyish for her now, though it was a favourite in the summer. Time passes and things change.

If I were feeling in a philosophical mood, I would reflect that this has been a year of two halves for me. It started badly, with that trip, when Husband was head-hunted and it all came to naught. Then I don’t really remember much about the spring, except I couldn’t really get back in the groove, and I was truly fed up with people telling me to be gentle with myself and not expect too much of myself, and that getting over a major trauma like cancer would take time. Don’t you just hate it when you know the answers, and people keep telling you them, and it doesn’t make the darnedest bit of difference?

The year’s half time was our trip to the UK, which was lovely. I remember day after day in the sunshine in my mother’s garden, trips to beaches, a very hot visit to Paris, walks on the North York Moors, resting and recuperating. There were tears in the gardens of Grosvenor Square, sprung out of the sheer frustration and anguish involved in getting through the US visa system. I remember that.

Then the second half began with the arrival of my green card, and a job in a toy shop. Morale improved. I was busy. It’s easier to make good use of time at home, when you’re not at home all the time. All three children made happy starts to the school year. I joined the church choir, remembered how very much I love choral singing, and wondered why I’ve done so little of it over the past ten years. We celebrated Thanksgiving in Colorado, which has become something of an annual tradition. I spent a week-end in Chicago with five other British bloggers living in the US, leaving Husband to look after the children and pass a kidney stone (or not pass a kidney stone, as it turned out – it had to be blasted apart a week later). That man is a saint.

In terms of blogging, well, I was a finalist in the MADs awards, in the category ‘Best Writer’, and now it seems I’m a finalist in the BMB Brilliance in Blogging list, in the category ‘Inspirational’. Ooh, get me. The blogging highlight of the year for me was reading out a blog post at Cyber Mummy. I loved doing that. I was really nervous, truth be told. Given that it was an emotional topic, my youngest child’s first day at school, I wasn’t sure I would make it through without tears, so I’d given a copy to a friend in the front who could take over if necessary. Be prepared, as they say in the boy scouts (although I’ve never actually been a boy scout, so I don’t know for sure that that’s what they say). Reading that post reflected how I like to think my blog plays out in the blogosphere. Some members of the audience had never read my blog, so for them, the post would have been an interesting commentary on school life in America through an English woman’s eyes. All the audience at Cyber Mummy were mums (or dads), so the post would have tapped into some of the feelings that all mothers experience from time to time, when our children move on and grow up. The specific interest and the general appeal - a good balance in a post. But there were some people, who have followed my blog through thick and thin, and for them, the post was loaded with significance. They would remember that my daughter started school in the middle of my 12 weeks of chemotherapy, and that it was only by the fortunate chance of where the date fell in the 3-week cycle, that I was well enough to take her. They knew how important that was to me. They knew that at the back of my mind were thoughts not only of her first day at school, but where I would be for her last day of school. I spotted tears at the front table. I love that about blogging – the way we all connect in different ways, and on different levels. It’s a rich web of interactions.

Enough about blogging. Another year has gone by. The tree is decorated. The wicker reindeer is on the front lawn, bedecked in lights. The organic turkey will be collected tomorrow. The egg nog is in the fridge. So this is Crismis.