“Wishing you the soul of a Gypsy. The heart of a hippy and the spirit of a Fairy”.

Well,  here I am on the morning of the first day of a new year.   First, where did I bring in the New Year? Truthfully, I was tucked up in my bed before ten with my electric blanket.  At twelve thirty my husband woke me up to take my night pills.  Seven different drugs that I must shallow every day at noon and midnight. Neither of us remembered to wish the other a Happy New Year as we snuggled together and fell back to sleep.  Now it is six am and I have already spent almost an hour catching up on the posts made to my Facebook, since the last time I checked. 

I've learned that twenty of my family members attended the New Years Eve dance at my brother's church ( A charity fundraiser that my husband and I knew nothing about). My daughter attended a private party hosted by a friend and even managed to fix her hair.  My adopted daughter spent the night playing pinochle with her biological family.  The flooding in our area is still the main topic here, and New Years Resolutions is the big topic by my friends who live elsewhere.  

I’ve also been confused by this item that was shared several times.  “Wishing you the soul of a Gypsy, The heart of a hippy and the spirit of a Fairy”.  Afraid I can't make any sense of this.  All the experiences I have had with Gypsies happened in the many stores I worked in over the years.  Several times a year we would prepare for what was known as Gypsy season when the on-slot of dozens of couples, over several weeks, would conspire to see how much they could shoplift.  So, as far as I know, Gypsies’ souls are nothing I can relate to. While I was a young person during the age of hippies my country lifestyle was so far removed from the television image of the Haight-Ashbury free spirits that I could never relate. Now the spirit of a Fairy I may understand.  I have certainly read more than my fair share of children’s stories full of the sprightly spirits with magical powers.  But, how these attributes are going to bring me a wonderful new year makes no sense to me. When I Googled the sentence I came up with the second picture which I'm afraid also makes no sense to me. 

Now, as for those New Years Resolutions that folks are so fond of making.  I admit it is something I generally avoid.  I tend to follow the advice of Sister Beatrice who got me hooked on journaling back in the eighth grade.  Every day starts with a blank page and what you do with it determines whether you record a celebration of your present or another despair of your past.