But We've Wandered Mony a Weary Foot, Sin Auld Lang Syne

New Year's Day breakfast of poached eggs, baked ham and hash browns.  I would say possibly my favorite breakfast combo of all time.  

The evening meal consisted of two slices from Not Ray's pizza and I'm going to say one of the worst Rockin' Eve shows I've ever attempted to sit through.  Unlike Times Square full of silly, dumb tourists, the void was just plain sad, not to mention the stages all set up for noone, making it even more ghostly. 

More importantly, like many folks I was thrilled to be sending 2020 off to the bone yard, yet there was also much uncertainty about this new year.  What would it bring? I can't help but feel like Diane Keaton in Baby Boom when she tries to go back into the workforce and finds herself unable and then unwilling to ignore just how much she's changed.  I've felt the kiss of a young Sam Shepard, I've held the country baby and worked in my wool socks and pajamas through a cold winter.   At this point, I'm already living in another dimension. Aren't you?  I don't want to go back to 'how it was'.  We've seen too much (death, bad behavior, corruption, among other things) to ever look at each other and claim to be the same.  

Happy New Year!  Welcome 2021, whatever you are.