Our incredibly fun New Year’s Eve
The stack of books beside my husband is the Internal Revenue Code and Treasury Regulations. He is immersed in his initial Partnership Tax reading. Classes start next week, but I suspect he is resolved to get a jump start. Mr. Fun.
I, Mrs. Fun, have been reading Loraine Boettner’s The Reformed Doctrine of Predestination, but the Cat displaced the book in my lap. I noticed his ears needed cleaning and thought this would make for an engaging New Year’s Eve tradition. But he read my mind and sprang for the top of the organ, his evil-eye post. I gave him his insulin shot anyway.
I checked out the great falling ball in Times Square, live, on my laptop. It was a bore. A guy and three girls in very, very short dresses were singing the Marine Hymn. I’m not sure the rendition honored anyone but the girls’ hosiery manufacturer.
I am 3.5 inches from the buttonhole row on my sweater-in-progress, the home stretch of the sweater body. The sleeves will likely occupy me for the duration of winter. That’s all right: it’s a spring sweater.
Oh, but we are fun. Tomorrow I will make a wonderful Persian rice and pistachio salad to share at an open house with good friends. Pistachios are my new favorite food group, but I’ve found that for some reason, showing up at a gathering with a bag of pistachios isn’t a really big hit. So I found this recipe and made it and it is delicious. It is time-consuming, but well worth the effort. Tomorrow I will make a double portion–like Elisha’s power. Let it be known: it will be fun because it is a very good Persian rice and pistachio salad, and making it is something I do well, and nothing is more fun than to do good well. I have thoughtfully posted the recipe below.
A nice thing about living on the West Coast, besides the fact that it is the only habitable sector of the continent, is that you get to watch the fun Times Square Ball fall and go to bed at nine o’clock.