This meme’s been sloshing around since early December, which seems too early
to me. Herewith my year in 12 cut-and-paste sentences, none about technology.
(For the tech year, see
here.)
January:
The children run wild in a universe entirely occupied by snowballs, sleds,
snow forts, and of course snow people.
February:
The food is excellent, the goats are charming, the view is
good, the air on the mountainside is a pleasure to breathe, and the motto is
Da’ Feta Mo’ Betta; what’s not to like?
March:
In the fashion-boutique windows, flirty little wisps of flowered
fabric, summer skirts and halters, are sad in the wet grey light; I suppose
lots more languish unworn in closets and drawers all over town.
April:
You can pretend that a lifestyle where you drive everywhere is
OK, but it’s not free, it’s not even cheap.
May:
So how about that barista with the hammer and sickle?
June:
We may not be able to save the world, but maybe we can save
one brave woman.
July:
The streets are thronged with the youth of Europe, and a pretty
scruffy lot they are, too.
August:
Hey New Orleans: when you get yourself back together, I’ll come
down and spend a bunch of money on booze and music, that’s a promise.
September:
We, the devotees of the Church of Baseball, howled as one in
sorrow, then relaxed and remembered our beers and so on.
October:
The medley of Slovenian folk-songs and Deep Purple hits went
on till 2AM.
November:
But slow is OK, because time is what he has, no end of it;
and when you’re my age that time rushes by, fast and unceasing like a spring
flood.
December:
She handed over the coffee and giggled at me: “It’s a
bum!”
