The quiet kind!
Tonight, I’ll be dressed for a party–in pajamas. Guests include my dogs and cats. Refreshments: one cup of eggnog.
For me, New Year’s is a reflective time. I like to think about goals for the coming year, and consider all the blessings and challenges of the one just past.
2007 was the year I became one of those people who say, “When Dad died…” Frankly, I’m still getting used to a world with no Skip Lael in it–never going to happen, probably. Dad was 81, though, and he’d lived his life to the fullest. His death was a natural passage, hard for all of us to bear, but not a tragedy. And sometimes, especially when I’m with the horses, or admiring the cherished saddle my ‘little’ brother, Jerry, tracked down and gave me for Christmas, I know Dad’s near.
On another front–my career–2007 was a marvel. I hit places on the bestseller lists that I’d only dreamed about before. My publisher is excellent, and my readers–well, you’re the most loyal crew, and I’m so grateful.
2007 saw the building of my barn, and the staff house next door is well under way. The horses came home–that was a very big thing for me. They were safe and well taken care of in the stable where they stayed–around here, we called it boarding school–but I missed them sorely. My heart catches when I look out and see them in the snowy pasture, so beautiful and majestic.
And there were mundane goals, too. I’d gotten behind with the doctor and dentist, and made up my mind to take better care of myself. I achieved that.
What are my goals for 2008? Well, first and foremost, I want to pour even more of my heart and soul into my books. I want them to be my gift to you.
I want to lose some weight and quit smoking.
I want to go back to the big rodeo in December.
Most of all, I want to remember to be grateful for all my blessings, known and unknown. We often think of our known blessings–but what about all the times God stepped in, in His mysterious way, and prevented something we had no clue was about to happen?
I enter 2008 as a grateful woman, and an inspired one. I know a lot of you are carrying tremendous burdens, like Shirley and Jim Morse, and facing them bravely. I may never get the chance to tell you in person, but I can say it here. I admire you. To me, you’re the real heros and heroines.
