Simple and Unintended

We shall be spokesman of the year's last word.

It should surprise us both, since it will be

           simple and unintended, hardly heard

           above the traffic of the falling snow;

ample enough, like old calendars, to contain

whole histories of our apt or inept gestures;

            yet, like the fall of a felt hat, remain

            almost elegant for it's silence.

                                  -John Talbot, New Year's Eve Poem

My Instagram "Best Nine" for the year 2017. (Meaning the nine posts on my account throughout the year that got the most likes.) My family. My home. And a sassy Pintrest meme. That seems to be the sum of a good year. I'll raise my glass to it. And while I'm at it, to the adventures 2018 is sure to bring. Here, here!

What can be said in New Year rhymes,
That’s not been said a thousand times?

The new years come, the old years go,
We know we dream, we dream we know.

We rise up laughing with the light,
We lie down weeping with the night.

We hug the world until it stings,
We curse it then and sigh for wings.

We live, we love, we woo, we wed,
We wreathe our brides, we sheet our dead.

We laugh, we weep, we hope, we fear,
And that’s the burden of the year.
                -Ella Wheeler Wilcox, The Year

As far as resolutions go, I haven't many. I don't want to keep my nose to the paper: planning and replanning, and re-replanning, because life never does what I tell it to anyway. I want to keep my head up and my eyes wide, and I want to see -- really see -- what comes my way. And I want to greet it, head on, with fearlessness and every sense. I want to listen, and taste, and smell, and touch, and live.

I may not have a plan, but I do have a large garden plot, a TBR stack I'm excited about, and, AND an airplane ticket to New York City!!!!!!  (Eek! I wasn't going to tell that last part yet, but it squeaked out. I'm SO excited.)