It wouldn’t surprise me if the District’s bars and nightclubs experienced a lower-than-average attendance this weekend. Everyone I spoke with last week seemed exhausted from our four-day Inaugural extravaganza. Yes, nearly everyone I knew had four days off in a row. But when you combine that time with cold weather, back-to-back-to-back-to-back events, and mind-numbing crowds, it just leaves you aching for some quiet time in your pjs with your laundry.

Let’s not get totally carried away, of course. I did change out of my pajamas today…

Yesterday, though, I remarked to Rudi as he was prepping dinner that I’d forgotten to brush my teeth all day. (Yes, I immediately went and rectified that situation, but you get the picture.) I tidied some. I washed a lot of dishes and baked cookies. I knit and read. Rudi watched non-stop skiing after returning from his bike ride. We had a tea party after supper:

Don’t you love the teacups? They were a Christmas gift from Grey Kitten. The teapot under the cozy is the one Rudi gave me for Christmas, as opposed to the one from Grey Kitten or from my folks. I was impressed with how all three of them came up with unique pots.

Today we made it out to the farmer’s market to replenish our supply of potatoes and greens. I showered and did laundry. Rudi and I took down the tree and packed up the ornaments. Rudi vacuumed the building’s hallway after I dumped needles inside instead of out… And then we settled in for the evening, heated up a pot of fondue, baked another sheet of cookies, and watched the first Harry Potter movie.

While one is never ready for it to be Monday (even when, like last week, your Monday is really a Wednesday), I feel a lot more prepared for heading back to the office in the morning than I did last week.

How was your weekend?

Tomorrow the Christmas tree will come down. It’s a month past Christmas, seven weeks since we put the tree up, covered it with lights, and decorated it with our friends. It’s time.

It’s been a good tree. We stopped watering it weeks ago, probably last right around New Year’s Day or maybe a few days past. Definitely before Russian Christmas. And yet, it remained strong, vibrant. It held onto its needles tightly, and I was loathe to end its existence before it was ready to give up the ghost.

It could also be that I needed it as much as it needed us. The colored lights and their pink glow fill my light-deprived soul with gladness and joy. I admit I needed it less desperately this year, whether because of the assortment of happy lights my parents gave me for Christmas or because of the impending Inauguration offered me hope of a different variety, I don’t know.

But the tree and I have grown comfortable together, and so together we spent many cozy evenings.

This past week, though, I’ve noticed a difference. The weather turned and temperatures dipped down into the chilly regions. We turned the heat on. The tree remembered that it grew up outside and likes a chilly winter. It started shedding layers the way a child does coming in from sledding. And I knew it was time to let it go.

So tomorrow Rudi and I will take each ornament off the tree. We’ll remember once again the friends and loved ones who’ve given them to us or where we acquired them. The sled from my first grade teacher. The styrofoam ball from nursery school. A bauble with my name painted on from Kim my sophomore year of college. The glass we brought home from Montreal and from London.

We’ll wind up the strands of lights.

And we’ll take the tree back outside, thanking it as we do, for giving us a gift of life and of hope.

But tonight after Rudi headed to bed, I turned out the rest of the Burrow’s lights and sat knitting in front of the tree, admiring its soft pink glow, grateful for one last night.

This has been going around the blogosphere for some time. Play along if you’d like by bolding the items you’ve done:

1. Started my own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than I can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland/world
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sung a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched lightning at sea
14. Taught myself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown my own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitchhiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of my ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught myself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had my portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job (although I have quit several to avoid having it happen)
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had my picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee
100. Rode an elephant

My total: I think it’s 40.5…

On Sunday, I cemented a resolution for the coming year: to entertain more. Technically, it was two things I ought to do (clean and declutter) but reframed in a positive light that means I have a shot at actually staying true to it.

My second resolution for the year shouldn’t require such trickery:

I resolve to stay in touch with friends far afield.

As Shelley recently reminded me, when I moved south I loosened my ties with friends I left behind. I was so devastated by moving that it actually caused me pain to talk to them. I was better for a while and then two years ago I suffered a major depression and retreated again. Talking to a loved one could literally cause me to weep for days. So I stopped. I stopped calling. Letter writing had fallen by the wayside already, and I even got bad at mailing birthday cards. I let people know about the blog and figured that was good enough. They’d be able to keep track of me and wouldn’t have to worry. I became a lazy friend.

But as Christmas approaches each year, I break out the address book and make a good-faith effort to reach out to everyone who has mattered to me in the last 15 years. And, for the most part, I hear back from folks. And every day for six weeks I’ve gone to the mailbox thinking about the fact that there could be a little bit of love tucked in between the credit card statements, the nonprofit pleas, and the ads. Each one I opened, pored over, and then hung in the hallway over the archway to the kitchen. I can see them from nearly any spot in the Burrow — and they bring me great joy. In fact, they probably won’t come down until right before my birthday, when I start to feel bad about still having Christmas “decorations” up. (I will not tell you the last time I took a postcard off the fridge, though. If you’ve sent one since we moved to D.C., chances are it’s there…)

So I got to thinking that others probably have similar reactions to getting real mail. We see it so rarely these days. Okay, so maybe not everyone displays it. But it’s a tangible offering that someone cared enough about you not only to spend the $.42 to mail something, but also to spend the time writing the paragraph (or page) or two about their life. I know email is faster, but for the same reason it feels like it matters just a smidge less. That’s not to say I wouldn’t value an email, particularly if writing one is about as time-consuming as you can manage in this busy lifetime.

Same thing with phone calls. I need to call folks more. I used to talk to people all the time and it’s a rare thing now for me to pick up the phone. Instant messages are great, but sometimes hearing someone’s voice is important. Important news merits a phone call. I promise if I have any of my own, I’ll call. But it shouldn’t just be the big news that nudges the phone into my hand. It should probably also be the “I miss you’s” and the “I was thinking of you’s” that compel me to call. You won’t know if I don’t tell you.

So, if we haven’t spoken in a while, expect a call sometime soon. If you’ve got an imminent birthday or anniversary, a card will make its way into the mail. And, heaven forbid, if I owe you birthday or Christmas presents (I’m looking your way, Grey Kitten, Rebs, and Eri), I will get things out of my closet, wrapped, into a box, and out the door. After all, I’ve been thinking about you — and I thought you ought to know.

I’ve been thinking about it — for five days now, at least — and I’m feeling pretty confident that I’ve come up with a good resolution for 2009:

I hereby resolve to entertain more this year.

Yes, that is too a serious resolution.

No, I don’t think it’s ridiculous at all…

Here’s why:

Rudi and I have lived here for … six years now. We have a solid group of friends now. We have groups we belong to. It’s nice to spend time with these people, and, yes, while I can always suggest to Sarah that it would be fun to go have grilled cheese and tomato soup one night or to Amani that we should meet for a cup of cocoa, it would be even nicer (and certainly more affordable) if I could just toss out the odd, “Hey, why don’t you stop by tonight/Saturday/the next time you’re in Dupont Circle?”

But we can’t.

Because Rudi and I live a suburban lifestyle in an urban apartment: we’ve accumulated too much stuff. So first we need to pare down some.

Then we need to reliably keep the place tidy. We are terrible about that, particularly because there isn’t a place for everything, so the incentive is low… (See above.)

And then we can have folks over — to watch Sense and Sensibility and drink tea out of all my new tea pots and tea cups… to play board games… to knit… to just hang out.

So, I reiterate: I’d like to entertain more this year. I’m thinking twelve times doesn’t seem unreasonable over the course of the year…

Do you have any goals/resolutions for the new year?

Well, Day 1 of 2009 has reached its close. If it’s how the rest of the year goes, I’m going to be pretty happy. We cooked, we did a few chores, and otherwise we generally spent the day making merry.

We went to a party (I made a trifle) where I was introduced to the wonders of lucky Southern food (black-eyed peas and cheesy grits; the lucky greens were gone before we arrived)… We visited with friends… I made a few phone calls… I read… I knit… I hung out with Rudi and the cats…

Yep, if this is how 2009 plans to be, it’s going to be an excellent year.

How’s the year looking for you?