Anyone who’s known me for a while knows more than they want to about my long stay in Germany–nearly thirty years. I’m that annoying new kid who’s always blathering about how great things were in her old school. One of the customs/ideas I still hang onto is the notion of die Zeit zwischen den Jahren–the time between the years–this peaceful time between Christmas and the start of the new year, January 6th by the old calendar. It’s a relaxing, low-stress time for reflection, setting goals for the year to come, and enjoying the fruits of our holiday labor–or the cookies. Mensch, how I miss German PlΓ€tzchen!

A plate of German Christmas cookies.
Image byΒ silviaritaΒ fromΒ PixabayΒ 

I usually love this period between Christmas and New Year’s Day when we’re still kinda/sorta celebrating the holidays. This year–meh. We’re keeping our holiday decorations up through the 6th of January–in fact, we’re planning to keep our fake tree up until we’re vaccinated and the pandemic restrictions ease. We’ll change out the decorations to suit the coming months. February’s a piece of cake: decorate for Valentine’s Day and then Mardi Gras. In March, it’ll be a Saint Patrick’s tree. In April, Easter. But January is a toughie. Perhaps a BLM tree in honor of Dr. King, plus something for the inauguration?

My role models for weird holiday decorations were American friends in Germany who kept a department store mannequin in their front window, changing her outfit and accessories each month to reflect the holidays and seasons. Revealing her new look was a great excuse for a party. Alas, we won’t be inviting anyone over to view new iterations of our holiday tree.

As far as reflection, you don’t need another post about what a whacked-out year it’s been. I’m blessed to not have lost anyone to this horrible virus. We’ve been strict about following pandemic protocols and have only seen friends and relatives who live nearby–outdoors, at a distance, etc. I wish we’d bought stock in Zoom, and am grateful we all have internet access. Last Sunday, we had an extended family reunion online, and it was great to visit with cousins, aunts, and an uncle I hadn’t seen in years.

October and November tore me to shreds as I followed election strife, but the outcome has me cautiously optimistic. Writing-wise, it’s been a good year, with three books published, but I know I could’ve done better if I weren’t so distracted by the dumpster fire that was 2020. Who’da thunk that metaphor would get such a workout? We need a better one–toxic swamp gas? Rat-infested junkyard? Multi-car pileup on the freeway of our lives? Leave a suggestion in the comments!

A planner, pencils, phone, sunglasses.
Image byΒ marijana1Β fromΒ PixabayΒ 

As for planning for 2021, I just can’t muster up any enthusiasm. I admire people who set concrete goals and plan out the steps to achieve them, but 2020 has taught me how little control I actually have about–well, pretty much everything. So my goal for 2021 is to simply get through it, enjoy the moments I can, write every day–even if it’s just a few sentences, and connect with loved ones and new friends.

How about you? Are you gripping tight onto your planner, or just coasting? Are you hopeful about the coming year? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Here’s to a brighter 2021!

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Image byΒ iXimusΒ fromΒ PixabayΒ