Happy New Year!

It was, it is, it will be. How's that for all-inclusive? We spent yesterday getting the house cleaned up and then making food for the late-night festivities. I stood out of the way (I'm really good at that). When most everything was ready, we got cleaned up, I layed out all of the games we could play (Balderdash was the most prominent), and then we waited for our guests to arrive. We didn't have to wait long, as TJ, Susan, and Mrs. Goad arrived within a few minutes. We sat around the table, talking for a bit, and then we adjourned to the garage to play ping pong. TJ versus Susan, TJ winning at 21 to 19. Then Mom versus Dad, with Dad winning with 21 to 19. I sense a pattern. Then Becca versus me, with Becca winning 21 to a score that wasn't 19. We played a few more rounds, and I got my camera out, catching some really cool action shots with the ping pong ball in mid-air and the players in strategic poses. Then I had to play again. I played against Susan and, surprisingly, I won, but I think she was just being nice. After that, it was time to go back in and play Apples to Apples. Dad won five rounds right off the bat, then TJ, then Rob. I was the last person to score anything, and I came in second to last place. (Did you hear that, Kim?) Dad won. Then we played imagine if, just for fun, no scoring. TJ was ready to fall asleep, so we went back and played ping pong to wake him up and to warm up, and to kill time because we had maybe half and hour until midnight. We tried to play a real game, Becca and Me against Susan and TJ, but within six or seven volleys, our game disintegrated into a wild frenzy determined to keep not one, but two ping pong balls moving across the table. That was fun! Then back inside, with less than ten minutes to midnight, we broke out the Champagne and sparkling cider, gathered round the TV and drank in the new year. We popped poppers, sending brightly covered streamers everywhere in the haze of popper-smoke. Then we talked for a bit, and then our guests went home. I went out to play with the dogs (it was their new year too!), and when I came back inside, everyone had gone to bed. There was an unfinished bottle of Champagne on the counter, so I asked Mom and Dad what I should do with it. They said I could cork it and put it in the fridge or I could drink it. Dad said that the unopened bottles of Champagne didn't count as leftovers; I couldn't finish them. As if. So, as I'm sitting on the couch, watching BBC America, glass of Champagne in my hand, I get the weird craving for a roasted marshmallow. Into the kitchen I go, grabbing a candle, some marshmallows, a match, and a fork, and the nearly-empty (but not quite!) Margarita pitcher, and I settled back on to the couch. Marshmallow speared on a fork, roasted over a candle-flame is surprisingly better than one might imagine. It really is quite good, if you like marshmallows (sorry to those who don't), and I do. So, after finishing the bottle of Champagne, the pitcher of margaritas, the bottle of sparkling cider, and two episodes of Sex in the City, I retired, not even the least bit buzzed. Leo returned for some late-night ribbon chasing and cord chewing, until he decided that wasn't fun anymore, and left. And now, today, I've awoken (not just now, I've been awake for a while, and yes, an hour counts as a while) to the delicious smell of roasting ham. I love ham. I absolutely love ham! The black-eyed peas are on the boil, the ham's roasting, and who knows what else. See, I was right, it is going to be a great New Year!