Well, it’s not over yet (thankfully), so this should really be in present tense.
What is perhaps most important, to me, is what I didn’t do this year — which is stumble through the long, hectic, progression of travel, last-minute shopping, shipping, sleeping on relatives’ beds or couches, packing, getting on the plane again, etc. Instead we had (are having) what might superficially seem to be a boring holiday season. At home. Just the three of us, mostly, quiet days, eating leftover turkey and cranberry sauce (of course we miss our other loved ones, so it’s a trade-off). Tilling the spring garden plot on an unseasonably warm Christmas Eve.
It’s been heavenly. I get so little time to read these days. OK, I am a geek. Not only did I spend much of Christmas Day (and into the night) reading, I was reading about the end of the world. But it’s all good — I’m used to this kind of fare by now. On the Big Day I devoured, in its entirety, Ronald Wright’s “A short history of progress“. Which is not such a feat: only 132 pages of large-format text (not including notes) and a real page-turner. Covers a lot of the same ground as Jared Diamond’s “