As I climb out of the subway, I can see there is snow on the cars in Brooklyn. How is it that Brooklyn seems like another planet every time I come home? I walk the lonely walk to my apartment and try to come to terms with the fact that, for the first time in 28 years, I am spending New Year's Eve alone. I am resolved and a little bit sad.
I walk down the middle of the deserted street to avoid the thin film of slush that has settled on the sidewalks in front of all of the warehouses. I have a moderately nice bottle champagne and a night of knitting in front of me.
I'll preoccupy myself with the New Year's Day brunch I have planned - eggs benedict (Master P's favorite) and pan roasted baby blue potates (they're so cute!). I am considering giving the Hollandaise sause a dry run tonight, but figure I'll just wing it tomorrow. After all, I do have a spiffy new Julia Child cookbook to guide me.
Tonight is just another Saturday night. A new year is starting, but it's just another year. The last one was just lovely, so I'm not going to fixate on the new one around the bend. Ok, so the one new thing is my blog. I figure tonight is as good as any night to start something new.
New Year. New Blog. My goodness.