The Tao of Martha: My Year of LIVING
Page 29
No…because it doesn’t need to be.
I don’t have to host a big party to give 2012 the finger, because in the scheme of things and despite a significant loss, it’s been the best year of my life.
By spending the year in the pursuit of the Tao of Martha, I’ve indeed gotten my groove back. I feel like me again. I’m substantially happier than I was when I started this year, for reasons great and small. I mean, I like knowing where my shoes are and I don’t miss the Drawer of Shame. Having a consistent way of storing everything makes my life so much easier. And if I want to whip up a batch of peppermint pops with my buddy, it’s so gratifying to have ingredients in stock and in place so that’s possible. I have great appreciation for the fact that Attempted Feline Homicides are down a hundred percent around here.
More important, I’m proud that I’ve done my part to make this a better year for those I care about. I’m pleased that Fletch (and his beard) have flourished in what’s now a more stable, peaceful household. I love that we’ve honored Maisy’s life by rescuing another pit bull. And maybe this sounds weird, but I’ve had such fun not only discovering my limitations, but finding creative ways to work around them.
As we rapidly approach the end of the year, I’m sorry to see 2012 go, but I’m excited for a new year as well, as I’ve finally discovered and come to embrace the ultimate piece of the Tao of Martha:
The only way to fail is not to try.
First, I’d be nowhere without the decades of effort Martha Stewart put in to establish herself as the one true domestic diva. Every time I give a thoughtful and appropriate handmade gift or create a fantastic dinner out of random ingredients, I’m in your debt. Sorry for getting a bit shouty back in the July chapter, but as a dog lover yourself, you likely understand my stress. Anyway, thank you for making me TEAM MARTHA. (And for your buttercream recipe. Always your buttercream recipe.)
Although change is scary, I have to extend major gratitude to super agent, Scott Miller. Having you on board has made all the difference…even though it affords Fletch the opportunity to be smug and say, “I told you so.” (Pfft, like he doesn’t do that anyway.) Seriously, though, cheers to new beginnings!
As always, I’m so appreciative of the gang at New American Library—Kara Welsh, for your continued faith in me; Tracy Bernstein, for your guidance and for pushing me; and Claire Zion, Craig Burke, Melissa Broder, sales and marketing, art, and the production copy editors who are forced to let me slip words like “stabby” into my books. Thank you for everything thing you do.
For Tiffany Ward, Brian Grazer, and my new BFF, Austin Winsberg—wow. You guys are my Dream Team…and didn’t we almost have it all?
For my girls who helped me with this year’s endeavors, I’m the luckiest person in the world to have you in my life. Joanna Schiferl, Julia Pawlik-Fincher, Stacey Ballis, Gina Barge, Tracey Stone, Wendy Hainey, Becca Foster-Goodman, and Angie Felton, I so appreciate you participating in all my schemes, even if you did sometimes mock me. (Not that I didn’t deserve it.) I’ll totally make room for you in my bunker.
For Laurie Dolan, who was next to me for so much of this project, you rock/you are my rock. (Your choice.) I’m sorry I took years off your life with my ninja watering skills. Please note that Fletch has since confiscated that particular hose nozzle. (And coming up, this is your year.)
Thanks to Caprice Crane and Karyn Bosnak, who participated in spirit (and FaceTime.) And sincere thanks to Lisa Lampanelli, with two caveats: A) Tell Stacey I absolutely WAS bitten by a crab, and B) I’m still waiting for my Best Guest crown and scepter. Please make it happen, or I shall be forced to explain what an estuary is yet again.
I will always be grateful to Drs. Thornhill, Feinmehl, and the rest of the Buffalo Grove Vet Specialty Clinic. Thank you for three bonus years. You are miracle workers.
Even though they can’t read this book (or wouldn’t care to, given thumbs and an adequate attention span), I have to recognize the pets in my life, particularly my sweet, sweet Maisy. I’m a better me because of you. To the rest of the crew, every time I have to clean up your “deposits” on the living room rug, you help to keep me humble. Actually, that’s not really a selling point. It’s called housebreaking because you’re breaking my house. Stop. Seriously. Please, stop.
As always, the cupcake to my buttercream is Fletch. You’re the reason for everything, and I’m so happy that I finally engaged in a project that’s actively made your life better, too. But isn’t it nice that after eighteen years of banana hoarding, drawer stuffing, and sneaking burritos in your car, I finally have it together? You’re welcome!
And finally, to my readers…to express the depths of my gratitude, I’d like to send Fletch to each of your houses to paint some furniture for you. (Note: Each piece takes six to eight weeks.) Seriously, you’re the best, and I couldn’t be more grateful. Thank you!!
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