With the promise of a New Year straight ahead, I am reminded of last year’s highlights, and lowlights.  The year ended with a quiet bang of friends and family around the bonfire; food and drink bringing up hilarious stories of the past.  Lama goo, Emu tackle and mailbox smacks are just a few of the things that silently crack me up when I think back of the gut-wrenching laughter that surrounds those stories… and the people who made it all happen.

For three consecutive years now, I have received pajamas from the same person for Christmas.  Each year I wonder why anyone would give pajamas as a gift, unless of course you were married for 50 years or something.  Each year I graciously accept as I respect and admire the sentiment behind the gift.  This year, however, the strangest thing… the inside tag was cut out by the giver.  It was a bold move that took me to a place that leaves me (still) feeling disappointed and dismayed.

Anyone who knows me, knows that I have never been a pajama person, nor will I ever be.  I could wear lounging pants before bed I suppose, although I don’t usually.  Had the tags not been cut, those pajamas may have had a slight chance, although I’m not sure.  I can’t even look at them without hearing the deafening message that screams out… 

Being aware of my surroundings and subtle messages that are sent, I have to believe this is a nudge, a hint, a message, an option.  It’s what I choose to do with it that’ll make all the difference.

And so the New Year begins…

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