Opinions

We are at the end of another year and it always brings thoughts of starting fresh and having hope for the future. Most of us have watched the ball drop on New Year’s Eve which officially declares, “out with the old and in with the new.” At midnight, people from all over the world will celebrate the turning of the next page of their lives. Over the years, the “time-ball” has undergone several changes in design, and the most recent was created for the Millennial celebration in the year 2000 by Waterford Crystal. It’s a geodesic sphere, six feet in diameter, and weighing approximately 1,070 pounds. It’s covered with a total of 504 crystal triangles that vary in size and each piece has a special designation: Hope for Love, Peace, Wisdom, Unity, Courage, Healing, etc. The Name of the ball itself ? “The Star of Hope.”

Having passed the getting older stage in life, methinks the next level, just plain old, is about as welcome as getting into the shower and discovering someone left the handle pulled out. What is worse, the cold blast of unexpected water or the thoughts of retribution?

Given my advanced age, I have surely experienced a handful of Christmases which landed upon a Sunday.

Bing Crosby had a No. 1 hit in 1943, “I’ll be Home for Christmas,” though it was originally written from the point of view of soldiers overseas. It has since become a traditional tune, but back in the turbulent 40s, when 298,000 American died while serving their country, the song also carried a melancholy line, “I’ll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams.” Not everyone did.

Sometimes I scare even myself. Shortly after we moved to North Florida, I developed a keen appreciation for palmetto fronds, noting how nicely they work in arrangements of greenery. I have only a little palmetto of my own, but my neighbors have offered theirs, willingly. “Take all you want,” one neighbor said, almost in disgust. Then he scratched his head and asked, “Why do you want it anyway?”

Fair or not, decisions made in real-time are often proven wrong. Second-guessing is natural, but not to Dr. Anthony Fauci. He could do no wrong back when COVID was wreaking havoc. Clearing the way for whatever he said was a fawning media, especially since it hit during the Donald Trump presidency. The rulings and restrictions he fueled dramatically slowed a swelling economy, which prompted the Democratic party to defend and endorse his authority.

My love interest with trees began when I was barely 5. My family moved into a new, red brick home with a huge yard, and my father-- who was apparently a direct descendant of Johnny Appleseed -proceeded to fill that yard with plum trees, apple trees, pear trees and a semi-circle of mimosas in the back yard which leaned gracefully over flower beds filled with roses. He scavenged nearby woods for two poplar trees which now tower above 100 feet Before any actual brick and mortar was placed on the property, he outlined the back yard with towering pine trees, flanked either side of the house-tobe with a magnolia, and put a baby pecan tree in the center of the front yard. On the sides of the front yard, he planted dogwoods in pink and white, with gardenias hovering underneath.