2007!

After a whirlwind of car trips and late nights and serious as well as ridiculous conversations with friends, after opening so many presents and eating lots of junk food bought at gas stations on our way to wherever, after gossiping with my mother and grandmother and mother in law and sisters in law and general quality time with all the family and, of course, finally, throwing a big party and dancing all night, counting down to midnight and toasting the new year with a crowded room full of excited people, we are back and I am tired. I am very tired. But tomorrow I'll tell you all about it. After some coffee. And after maybe playing with all my new Christmas gifts. And after a nice, long hot shower and then maybe I'll take one more tiny nap and then I'll be ready. I'll be ready to tell you all about it, and to attack this new year with vigor and attitude, like the attitude that I won't eat 12 pieces of chocolate for an "afternoon snack to tide me over until dinner" tomorrow like I did today because tomorrow is January 3rd, and that's the day the resolutions really start after all, I mean, January 1st and 2nd are, like, totally a grace period.

Finally taking sinus irrigation seriously in this household

This past Friday night I was out on Franklin Street having some drinks with friends, including our good friend Nate, who works in the same lab as J. J wasn't feeling well last week, and so stayed in on Friday, and I, therefore, got to hear a few things about my husband. For instance, Nate told me, that lab members had recently engaged in an interesting conversation about netti pots and their usefulness in draining the sinuses.

I'd heard of these netti pots before - on TV, and amongst hippie types - and I immediately got nervous. Really nervous.

Was my husband in on this conversation? Nate replied that he was, and that, naturally, he'd been totally into the idea. The idea of pouring warm water into one nostril and having it come out the other. It's hard to explain why, but I just knew he would find this a fascinating principle.

So it was really no wonder - not that it diminished my disgust - when I returned home that evening and found this cute, yellow teapot, given to me by a charming, older potter who lives out in Chatham County, in our bathroom. I'd done a story on the guy for the newspaper last year.

"Hey," I asked J, waking him up. "What's up with the teapot in the bathroom."

"It's a netti pot," he informed me. Since it was late, and he was sick, I decided not to get into it that night - to explan that, actually, it wasn't a netti pot. It was a gift from an artist that I actually used to make tea. And when you use something like that to clean out your nostrils, it becomes less appealing for use making hot drinks. That you put in your mouth.

Instead, we talked about it the next day. J gave me full disclosure on the complexities of the netti pot, which was actually a teapot, and not only a teapot but my favorite teapot. He told me how when "you first do it, you sort of feel like you're going to gag," and how after you use it, "you blow your nose and tons, just tons, of snot comes out."

I'm sick now, having caught what everyone else seems to have, even though I thought maybe I'd remain untouched by the winter cold this year, but amazingly, the netti (tea) pot isn't yet appealing enough for me to use. Despite, as J informed me, the instant sinus clarity it allegedly provides. I'm all for natural remedies, really, but I prefer vitamins, honestly, and hot toddies. Things that go in and don't come right back out. Things that don't involve kitchenware.