I always loved the first few days of a new school year.  Not that I was eager to get back to the inevitable teasing I would have to endure, but because nothing felt better than opening a clean notebook and making those first few letters in my best handwriting.  There were no creases or smudges from a bad pink eraser, just pure white pages.

    New Years reminds me of those September days.  I love to start the year with a clean and orderly house;  beds washed, laundry caught up, fridge cleaned out of leftovers and all traces of Christmas packed up and stored away.

    This drives my family crazy.  They see me getting antsy on Boxing Day, picking up and packing away little bits of Christmas that I think no one will notice. The Christmas cards go first, then serviettes and pot holders and tea towels all decorated with pointsettias and bells.   Next I work on all the angels and snowmen and Santas lounging around the main level.  

    Amid complaints of not keeping to ‘Old Christmas Day’, in the end my family gives in and helps me take down the tree and put the house back pre-Christmas usually by New Year’s Eve. It seems only right to welcome in the new year with a house as clean and fresh as a new notebook.  

    And woe to the first person to spill, wrinkle or smear something.  To them:  a 500 word essay on Good Reasons to Not Start the Year Off With a Cross Mother.  And maybe a detention.   

    So if you’ll excuse me, I have cleaning to do.

                    Happy New Year