Going out of town.
Or company’s coming.
It’s a gearing-up.
And a winding-down.
All at the same time.
End of an entire year.
Three hundred and sixty-five days.
Eight thousand seven hundred and sixty hours.
Never to be lived again.
Bring on the new year.
And a new word.
(Well…it’s new to me.)
I thought Shirley Lyles made it up.
Sounds like a swear word.
It all started when we went to buy Mason County honey from David Hoerster. As we knocked on his door, I noticed the charming plant nearby.
"Isn’t that called oxyallis?" I asked.
"I don’t know," Shirley said. "Maybe it’s oxycoccus."
That’ll get your mouth washed out with soap.
Later, when I finished laughing, I googled it.
It not only exists…there’s different kinds.
But it’s not the plant.
Oxycoccus shows up at Thanksgiving.
Right on the supper table.
Or in your vodka drink.
Or maybe a glass of it straight.
Yep, oxycoccus is the botanical name for the very respectable cranberry.
My, my, my.
2011 promises to be a fun year.
Food and abundance.
Love and light.
Get plenty of oxygen.
Drink oxycoccus juice.
And watch out for oxymorons!
Happy New Year!
Renee Walker is an author, poet, and real estate broker on the square.