A New Holiday in January

If I could invent any holiday in the month of January, it would definately be on the Monday after the first weekend of January. It would be called National Sleep-in Day. On that day there would be no school so people could, well, sleep in! That day would make the first week of school go a lot faster, as well as console those of us were extremely loathe to go return to school. I would especially appreciate this holiday because the first weekend of January I have three performances of The Nutcracker, not to mention a long week of rehearsals, and setting up and taking down the props, back drops and floors. After five days of five-hour rehearsals each day, three performances seem like nothing. Still, the energy it takes to go all the way through the ballet with out stopping, and of course still trying to look like ballet is the easiest thing in the world (which it’s not!), when your legs, arms, and toes kill, is so exhausting that it is almost impossible to stay awake and paying attention to teachers early Monday morning.

I can still hear....

One of my first memories as a child was when we lived in our old house in Virginia. I had a favorite stuffed rabbit and I always used to hold her and suck on my two little fingers. I can still hear my mom called for me to see where I was and if I was sucking my fingers again.
A very pretty sound that I can still hear is the sound of the ocean. The blue waves lapping on the shore while I swung in a hammock underneath two palm trees on a hot day in Cancun, Mexico. I can still hear the sounds of gray dolphins, I could even hear their friendly clicks while underwater. Its sounds like these that I wish I could recall on freezing days and wrap around me like a warm fuzzy blanket. But I love snow too.
Actually the loudest sound that I remember is silence. I can still hear the silence one summer day when a car slammed into the side of our van. I can't recall a word said. Only silence. I also can still hear the silence in a small green car driving through Laffayette as my Mom announced to the family that Dad had cancer. I remember no words, just my mom's brown eyes brimming over in tears.