Does January Smell Like Bad Broccoli?

Dan always complains about how sad it is when the brightness of the holiday gets boxed away in the basement for another year.  About the same time we put away the decorations, the fields around our little farming community get ripe with the smell of the leftover unharvested cruciferous vegetables. I repeatedly sniff the air and say, “Does January smell like bad broccoli?” Usually this coincides with me not being able to string together three days of keeping my New Year’s resolutions and noticing my bank account has deflated considerably more than I anticipated.  Dan missing his lights and my general mood let January defeat the hopefulness of a new beginning.

Not this year.  It's going to change.

First off, I’ll confess, I like my set window of decorated time—from the first weekend in December to January 2, creature of habit that I am.  This season we were gone three of those weeks so I let Dan have his way and keep the Christmas tree lit extra-long. That means an extended time of being on guard lest Finn-dog get the idea the tree is in place as doggie indoor plumbing.  But, step one for defeating the January doldrums is firmly in place; the tree is staying up.

Step two is next.  If one doesn’t wish to feel defeated about her New Year’s Resolutions on January 5, she shall not make them.  This goes against my self-improvement addiction on so many levels.  To soften the resolution not to make resolutions I have little conversations with myself like, instead of determining to stop eating sugar, let’s work on planning more healthy meals.  Or, instead of forcing myself to exercise for an hour in the morning, let’s try making a habit of doing our stretches as soon as we’re dressed.  And finally, instead of saying, “I’m practicing piano a half an hour every day,” let’s just sit down and enjoy a few minutes of playing in between chores.

Since Finn chose to challenge the extra-long tree time decision, Maisie gets inspired to poison my piano pleasure by letting me know she does not enjoy it.  When I play scales, she marches around behind me.  I try “Linus and Lucy;” she whimpers while marching.  I break out “Moonlight Sonata,” and she marches right into the bedroom and slams the door shut with her nose.  Good grief is right.

It feels like January has decided on doldrums despite my best efforts.  When Dan gets shipped off to Lake George for work, I rip through cleaning out closets, drawers, cabinets, anything I can find to declutter and reorganize.  Take that January! I’ll show you how I respond to your mood dampening!

She lets me think I’m getting ahead of her for a while.  Once all my living spaces are pristine clean for Dan’s return home, she throws the curve ball she held in reserve.  After two years of bad-broccoli lying uncovered all through winter, she decides to give the fields of town a blanket of white and pretties us up.  Is this her final blow, or is she calling for a truce?

I have a choice to make:  will I raise my fist at her name on the calendar each time a dog tracks snow all over my squeeky-clean hardwood floors?  Or will I light the fire, make a big mug of chai, and curl up with a novel?

Now, which do you think I’m choosing?

Your Turn:  Do you feel a dampened mood after the holidays?  Also, do you have definite ideas about when the Christmas tree goes up and comes down?