For some mysterious reason, I slept until 8 this morning, despite suffering all-night-long horrible cat-induced leg cramps. Still, once I'd hobbled downstairs, I was pleased to note that my house is warm, clean, and now pleasantly de-Christmased, an annual moment that always makes me feel as if we've gained acres of living space. So here I am, sitting in my pink flannel bathrobe at the kitchen table, drinking vigorous black coffee and scoffing at the outside thermometer, which has chosen to end 2014 with a below-zero bang.

Another year in Harmony dribbles to a close. Several of our citizens have died and one or two have been born. Though in general we tend to ignore each other, we are united in being annoyed at the road commissioner.

Things I have heard in Harmony this year:

* What the plow guy said to my husband: "Do you know what the weather's supposed to do? I don't have a radio. I just get up and go plow if it looks snowy outside."

* What the young woman said as she stood at the local store counter, speaking to the clerk (the mother of a childhood friend) as her former music teacher (me) and the elementary school janitor/tyrant stood in line behind her: "These cigarettes aren't for me. I'm buying them for a friend."

*What my sons said to me: "Let's name our cars after people in town."

* What the lady at the dump wrote on the Christmas card she handed to my husband: "Thank you for your support."