It was always going to be a hard time.

In some way I'm enjoying the quiet in the aftermath of a week of family and home repair projects, in the wake of my little sister's surprise visit, card game marathons, second Christmas, the rooster sacrifice, and an evening of honkeytonkin'.

Now there are no overtired children, no waiting for a pause to shove a word in edgewise, no searching through the new fridge wondering who ate what and when and whose turn it is to cook next. No waiting in line for the bathroom and no hiding there, staring down at the new floor, taking a breath of escape in order to recharge.

The moonshine went away with my daddy's toolbox, and Zwarte Piet left his hat in its place.

I was never good at saying goodbye. Even as a kid. Mom used to tell me every time, "But if they don't leave, Honey, they can never come back." I never understood how that was supposed to make any sense. Saying goodbye still sucks.

Better to say that they're gone but they haven't left: Sami and Charles arrived safely at his grandparents' house, and I'll hear from Mom and Dad on the road today.

And its certainly not that I'm lacking for things to do -- whenever I feel at odds, there is a list of projects I need to finish (and writing to be done if any of those seems particularly evil). I know Mom will hound me until I get those bookshelves painted, and she's right to do so. The trim in the bathroom will probably wait. Until New Year's, anyway.

Everywhere I look, I still see them. The fridge and my pantry are still bursting with food. There's still sawdust on the back porch, and a ton of drop cloths that will have to wait until the next garbage run to be tossed. There are clothes in the dryer, a bag for Goodwill, and some hardware to be returned to Lowe's.

They gave me all these tangible things...but the memories mean so much more.

I will never forget the sight of Charles holding that little blue CD player and Sami with her tambourine, framed by the open front door and singing the Chipmunks' Christmas song at the top of their lungs. I will never forget the best way to pluck a chicken, or how trying to dress a rooster with dull knives is -- according to my father -- "like trying to knock down the Great Wall of China with a rubber mallet." I may be almost 32 years old, but my mother still gave me a kiss every night before I went to bed.

She reminded me -- they all did -- that the correct response to "I love you" is never "As it should be."

Yesterday morning, I took my 2007 calendar off the wall in the kitchen and tore it into tiny little pieces. I wrote on the new one three lines, three lines that were my mantra almost ten years ago when I escaped from another bad time in my life.

I am free
I am loved
And I will do great things.

I wish every one of you a very safe and wonderful New Year, full of all the happiness you deserve.

Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some painting to finish...

I'm stealing this list from Kitti...thanks, babe!

1) DRINKING BUDDY OF THE YEAR
Mark Newton (who now knows firsthand how cheap a date I am)

2) LIFETIME SERVICE AWARD (longest friend) -
Patrick Kramer, recent big winner of "Don't Forget the Lyrics"!! Woohoo!!

3) NEWCOMER AWARD - COOLEST NEWEST FRIEND?
Ken Scholes -- last year we were acquaintances; this year he became my closest confidante. And he still chooses to talk to me.

4) HIGH POINT OF THE YEAR?
A Tie:
**Hitting the New York Times Bestseller List. Two weeks in a row.
** My little sister's wedding. Burning Down the House!!

5) LOW POINT OF THE YEAR?
I broke up with my fiance of almost 2 years in October. Trust me -- you don't know the half of it, and you don't want to.

6) BEST HOLIDAY?
My parents are coming for Christmas. How much more awesome can it get?

7) YOUR SONG FOR 2007
"Just for Now" by Imogen Heap

8) MOVIE FOR 2007?
Stardust

9) WHO DID YOU SPEND VALENTINES WITH?
Was it Natalie? Aw, heck, I can't remember.

10) WHAT WERE YOU FOR HALLOWEEN
A Medieval Princess. (And I had my picture in the paper that day.)

11) RESTAURANT OF THE YEAR?
Oh, what was the name of that place across the street from the Saratoga Convention center at World Fantasy Con? I had the most divine chicken with a mushroom brandy sauce...mmmm.....and I learned all about how cool North Dakota isn't.

12) BOOK OF THE YEAR?
Last Flight of the Goddess, by Ken Scholes.
"My companions will ever be my saving grace."

13) BEST DECISION MADE THIS YEAR?
see Number 5

14) WHAT ARE YOUR PLANS FOR NEXT YEAR?
To attend fewer conventions, but still see my friends all the same. And to write -- a lot.

15) MOST STUPID IDEA WHEN DRUNK
Wasn't drunk. Was tipsy enough to dance around Sherrilyn Kenyon's suite, and then went straight to bed. EvylEd can testify to that one. Mark left before witnessing the aftermath. Silly boy.

16) TV SHOW OF THE YEAR?
Oooooh...tough call. Still, probably Doctor Who. David Tennant is just amazing.

17) MOST LOYAL FRIEND OF 2007?
All of them. I wouldn't have survived otherwise. (Okay... I would have survived. But not nearly as intact.)

18) BIGGEST CHANGE OF THE YEAR?
see Number 5

19) BIGGEST DOUCHEBAG AWARD?
um...yeah. Have to go with Number 5 on that one too, really.

20) NEW YEAR RESOLUTIONS?
To take care of myself, for real this time, and all on my own. To show more love to my friends and family. To CALL people more often and actually talk to them instead of emailing. To read more books that my friends write. To WRITE...a lot. To share a smile every day.

Well, la-dee-da! I won "Blog for a Beer" yesterday on Fantasy Friday!

It was a quick and fun little break...winning was just a bonus.

Every single word of this actually happened. Today, I bought Patty some flowers with my winnings.

**********************************

Patty fainted at work today.

She was at the fax machine before she wandered over to Linda's cubicle and stumbled in the doorway. I made an offhand comment suggesting she blame her clumsiness on the stinky new carpet. Linda shouted a rebuttal over the wall, but there was only a moan from Patty as she fell into a chair.

That's when we got scared.

Linda ran to get our Director and call 911. Stephanie stood in the hallway, staring pale-faced at Patty's neck lolling back like a newborn baby, her eyes rolling up into her head. I wondered if I shouldn't at least hold her head up when everyone came running.

She was lucid soon enough, but she had lost a minute of so of her life. She didn't remember the joke about the carpet. She only remembered feeling dizzy at the fax machine and then coming back to reality in the chair, sweaty and nauseous and curious as to how long she'd been sitting there.

She was shuffled off to the Director's office, where the paramedics met her several minutes later to take her vitals (and clear the corporation of any possible wrong-doing). The ambulance left without her, someone volunteered to give her a ride home, and apart from that exceptionally bizarre episode she seemed fine.

The aftermath in the office lasted quite a while longer, of course. The buzz of what happened spread as quickly as the mutters of concern and the speculations over what might have been the cause.

"Well, I know she's diabetic."

"Yes, but she's got that under control. She was just at the doctor's a couple of weeks ago and everything was fine."

"Maybe she's pregnant." (laughter)

"She said she ate breakfast this morning, so it couldn't have been that."

"George said she was hot to the touch and sweaty. Maybe it's a bug."

"Maybe it's a deadly new strain of virus and they're all going to come back in contamination suits and tell us that we're quarantined here...forever."

My comment was met with many blank stares, and a very long pause.

You know, after seven years you'd think they'd be used to working with a fantasy writer.