I was looking around the knitting blogs, and found a lot of variations on "I'm not making resolutions. What is a day on a calendar?"

Up to them, of course. But I want to speak up for the calendar. Admittedly, our methods of keeping track of time are made-up, and at the very least are just one of many options. We can use heating and cooling to ignore the seasons entirely, and electric lights and computers let us live nocturnally if that's what we prefer. We are not slaves to clocks and calendars. "Time," Einstein said, "is God's way of keeping everything from happening at once." That's all.

But I like time. The days, the weeks, the months, the special times and ordinary times. They give a rhythm to our lives. We can enjoy the festival times because we have spent the fast times in contemplation. We can observe all the special days and hours, big and small, with rituals and traditions that give us satisfaction and become part of the memories of our families. They seem more significant because there are long stretches of ordinary time in between.

In church yesterday morning, we made a quartet to sing "Comfort, Comfort Ye, My People" by Olearius. I love that piece. Our wonderful organist asked me "How do you like to take this? Like a madrigal? a dirge?" I thought that was an intriguing pair of options. Personally, I like it as a madrigal with a Caribbean flavor, but I could not come up with any steel drums. We rehearsed a little, and sang it in three minutes or so, and that is it for the year. We will not hear that piece of music again till Advent comes around again on the calendar.

The church had been recast, with the red elements removed and just white and gold remaining for Epiphany. We sang the appropriate carols, and the pastor talked about the custom of making resolutions. He reminded us that every Sunday we come to church for spiritual uplift and refreshment and fellowship, to make our resolutions afresh each week. This is true. He suggested to us that reflecting Christ in our relationships and seeking opportunities to translate our faith into action would cover most of the worthwhile New Year's resolutions. Perhaps. It will not cover my goal of making a cross-stitch piece this year, but he was speaking on a more rarefied plane than that. Still, New Year's Day is a great time to contemplate new adventures, big or small.

Now, I am a religious woman and therefore not superstitious, but we also have a traditional dinner on New Year's Day. Pork for looking forward, root vegetables for strength, greens for prosperity, and black-eyed peas for luck. Actually, we were fresh out of black-eyed peas this year, and since we are not superstitious, we are letting them go, but the other special New Year's foods were on the table. Why not? It is a punctuation, a marking of this part of the year.

There are things we do for New Year's, and things we have been doing for winter. I made soap and bath foam in wintry scents: ginger, cinnamon, sandalwood. We brought out the woolen throws and the basket of scarves and hats to put by the door. We don't rely much on our heater, and dress in warm clothes. I do not like winter much, to be frank, but I still want it to be different from summer.

I like the different days of the week to be different, too. Days for family dinners, for class, for rehearsals, for cleaning the bathrooms, for going to church. Again, it is a matter of rhythm. We can appreciate each nuance more for the variety, and for the predictability which puts the surprises into sharper relief. The past two weeks have been outside of that usual routine, which marks them out as holiday. We have stayed up late and slept in and napped, eaten at all times of the day, had parties and lolled around. When we go back to the regular rhythm, we will be refreshed by this variation.

Today is the last day of my long weekend. Tomorrow my husband goes back to work (thank God!) and the next day #2 daughter leaves to resume her studies. The day after that, the boys go back to school, and that night will be Twelfth Night. The next day is Epiphany, the end of Christmas and the beginning of our return to the usual.

The usual should be improved by the festival days, the introspection and resolution, and the time spent lifted out of the usual.

2006 has begun. I hope that all of you enjoyed the changing of the year.

I had a pleasant and relaxing New Year's Eve. #1 son brought a friend to dinner and we had a brief round of a Christmas trivia game, but I have put away most of the holiday paraphernalia, and will try to persuade the family to help take down the tree. We usually keep it up till Epiphany, but #2 daughter is leaving on tour on the 4th, and I know she will want to join in, so we will sweep away the last bits of the festivities and return to normal life.

In any case, after cooking and cleaning up a turkey dinner with all the trimmings, I said I was through with all housekeeping and intended to relax the rest of the day. I brought out my knitting and my book and gave up all previous plans of going out and doing things, and settled into the most comfortable chair. Other family members came and went, and a variety of electronic things took place, but I was determinedly idle.

Later, #1 son brought home the girl whom he is not dating. He does not date,  but this is the particular girl whom he is not dating. Sort of like having a particular church which you do not attend. There was another girl in attendance as well, so it was clearly not a date.

The house was a mess (even though, as you know, I have done a whole lot of housework this weekend) and we had been watching the Discovery channel on last year's tsunami, so I was a little bit teary. Nothing like coming into a messy house and finding your hostess drying her eyes after contemplating global disasters.

Also, Toby the Stupid Dog barked and growled at them. Just to make the experience complete. 

#1 son and his dad went out to look at the car, and I tried to move things around enough to allow the girls to sit down, and offered them cake.

You know how it is when people come over unexpectedly. There are always really odd things around. The normal untidiness at our house consists of books and craft supplies and shoes. Sometimes musical instruments and games.

All these things were out, it is true, but there were also dumbbells, a bottle of peroxide, a cereal box, and about a dozen mugs. Also many cookies. There I am, trying to be hospitable, and everywhere I look there is a mug and a half-eaten cookie. I don't remember that many people even being here, let alone all of them drinking hot drinks and eating cookies. And forget the cereal and the peroxide. I don't even have a theory about that.

At least it wasn't girly magazines and beer cans.

The moral of the story is probably that you should always keep the house tidy, even if you have gotten sick of cleaning up after people. Because, let's face it, the untidy people won't be the ones who feel embarrassed when guests come into their untidiness.

Or the moral of the story might be that #1 son should call from the corner to warn me so that I could rush around and get rid of at least the evidence that the household has been sitting around all day eating cookies.

Or possibly that I should lighten up, because the chances are slim that those girls went right home and told their mothers that #1 son's mom allowed a cereal box into the living room.

In the middle of the table here is the cake which I offered to those girls. Here is the recipe. Quite a good cake. And it uses up that eggnog, which always seems like such a nice idea and then doesn't get drunk up.

Today is probably a good day to throw away any remaining Christmas cookies, or at least box them up and take them to your neighbors. Don't call first. By dropping over and surprising them with dumbbells on the hearth and electric guitars in the chairs, you will be doing them a favor. They will be motivated either to keep their house tidier or to relax about it, both excellent New Year's Resolutions.