…Give you peace…

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Anyone else feel sad at the end of the year?  Like, all that reveling at midnight — and the coverage here in the midwest STINKS so we actually kiss and toast at 11 when we watch the ball drop in Time’s Square, which come to think makes me sad now because of Dick Clark’s absence, sigh — all that kissing and dancing and eating crab legs and canapes, and drinking champagne, and all those people in Time’s Square with weird year glasses on, freezing their butts off, who don’t want to leave their spots to go to the bathroom and are squeezed tight in the crowd — are all those reveling revelers happy?  What are they happy about?  The promise of a new year with love in the air, or a baby or two on board or retirement ahead or a wedding or a trip planned?

When we were kids and turned 18 we all got to go out with our family on NYE and crack thorny succulent crab legs with nut crackers and drink ice cold champagne and dance and whirl and twirl and bring the house down doing the “bump”, “bus stop”, “the hustle” and of course, “YMCA” with our parents and siblings and boyfriends/girlfriends and later spouses and it was amazing, and I think New Year’s Eve was happier for me then.  There were fewer years to look back on, fewer losses to sorrow, and a greater expanse of years ahead.

Hmm, that is depressing, no wonder I feel as I do.  But, really, that’s no way to leave this past year with its surprises, like this blog that I didn’t even dream about at the turn of midnight 2013, and the tough times and losses and the laughter and kisses.  It has been a good year filled with all those things and more.

What about New Year’s resolutions?  I could stand to lose a few pounds, I’ve got some pudge, that is sort of depressing, who wants to really, I mean, who really wants to go on a diet? So, you are pounding back those M&Ms on New Year’s Eve like, ironically, there’s no tomorrow, washing them down with icy Pepsi from a bottle, knowing in a scant few hours you’ll be eating celery stalks and carrot sticks, having egg whites for breakfast, and salads for lunch, and a Fiber One bar for a snack, and drinking lemon water.  Yah, that’s a happy time.

But, truly, I do love being healthy, it just takes work to do it, but like I always say, I’m a numbers girl, and I need to keep the numbers like blood pressure, cholesterol and weight down with logging in the number of miles I walk or bike, and steps I take.

I quit smoking many, many years ago, not even with a NY’s resolution.  I do remember some NYEs smoking as many cigs as I could before midnight and drowning the unsmoked cigs in water so I wouldn’t be tempted to smoke them the next day.  Honestly, that never worked.  One day, I just decided to quit and I did.  I didn’t need a New Year’s resolution to do it.

I do like resolutions like getting organized, the sale of organization stuff is like off the charts this time of year, yet we mostly all go back to being disorganized with really nice organizational stuff overstuffed with stuff… till next new year’s resolution.

I will be doing the January Cure with apartmenttherapy.com again.  You might remember that it spawned  The Reluctant Renovators, which by the way got top hits in 2014 on my blog, and my closets and shoes and linen closets have all stayed organized.  And get this, they don’t want you to go out and buy a ton of organizational stuff (sorry Target) they want you to use what you have!  Brilliant!

So, I bid goodbye to 2014, and give thanks for all of you who have taken the time to hang out with me here on Harmony’s Pearls.  I have made some good friends in blogland, and that is one of the most beautiful surprises of the year.

I can hear my dad at the end of a sermon saying this benediction (but in the King James Version) which I hold so close to my heart and spirit, and I think if we end this year in any way at all, shouldn’t we end it by blessing each other with such goodness? “May the Lord bring good to you and keep you. May the Lord make His face shine upon you, and be kind to you.  May the Lord show favor toward you, and give you peace.”’

Till after midnight, then.  Be safe.  Kiss someone. Embrace hope.

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Harmony’s Pearls in review. This is cool.

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 8,400 times in 2014. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 3 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

Don’t Die Liberty, I still need you…

images (1)Hubby was driving my Jeep Liberty yesterday and called to say that she’s bleeding and crying out in pain.  Well, actually he said that when he was turning corners there was a squealing sound and that the car was leaking something onto the driveway.

But, I heard bleeding and crying out in pain.

I love my Liberty (in more ways than one, but this is about my car).  When they came onto the scene in 2002, I was totally smitten.  We’d play “Find the Liberty” when we were in the car, 4 points for a burgundy one (my fave), 2 points for a silver one, and 1 point for all other colors. It was hard to wrack up pointage back then, even on a long trip we took to Nashville for my hubby’s marathon, there weren’t that many out there.

I just loved that it was car-like, could fit into compact car parking spaces, and was still cute and definitely not a mini-van which, I had an aversion to.

Whenever I saw someone in a LIberty, I’d say, “You lucky dawg.”  I really am not a “car person” but Libertys really spoke to me.

One day hubby came to the shop for a chocolate strawberry, it was April 30, 2003 to be exact.  Hubby coming to the shop for a chocolate strawberry in the middle of the day was odd, but whatev.  He asked me to walk him to the car, and we saw a burgundy Liberty parked in the street, it had cloth seats (I had an aging golden retriever, Max, and he loved to ride in the car, so I wanted cloth seats so he wouldn’t slide around) and all the bells and whistles, and SURPRISE, it was mine!

Shut up!  I was jumping up and down, and hugging and kissing that man of mine.

My Liberty carted both our kids off to college dorms and apartments all over.  The kids drove her all the time, she is beloved and is such an integral part of our past. She’s hauled our bikes to all kinds of bike paths and towns.  She’s a pretty workhorse, and hardly has a ding on her.  This girl has packed in some serious memories over the past 11 1/2 years.  I just love my Liberty.

She’s fading now, there is even a bit of rust on her.  We take her for regular check ups at the local repair shop like a little old lady getting her cholesterol and blood pressure checked.  She’s got about 90,000 miles on her, and she still fits me like a glove.  Her “git up and go” is a little slow, but she still grooves in overdrive through the snow.

It’s funny how sad I am that she’s sick. I worry that eventually something will happen that will make her “terminal” and I will have to let her go.  This makes me so sad.  She’s just a car, but she’s unique, and if her interior could speak, oh the stories she’d tell.

So, we wait anxiously for a call from the mechanic, saying a little prayer that Liberty will be healed, and will go that extra mile for us again.  She’s just a car, I know, but I love her.