Should auld

New Year’s Eve that began beautifully with orange streaks among ominous clouds, slowly shading to pink and grey, now is silver bright across StAndrewsBay this Saturday morning. It’s our day for folks to reminisce about their passing year. National happenings, international events, news reports, bad news and good. For each of us the real news is personal, happy family events, trips, visits, weddings, births, some intensely searing losses from which one never recovers, all of it 2016. 

At the moment I’m looking across Shell Island into the Gulf of Mexico, a peaceful NYE in mind. We bought tickets to the ball benefitting Anchorage Children’s Home, but if we went, we’d never stay awake halfway to midnight, and New Years Day would see FB shots of some old man with his white head lying face-down asleep in his supper. At the moment my notion of New Year’s Eve celebration might be a Stella and small thin crust double-anchovies pizza down the street at Enzo’s. Or perched on a stool at Gene’s, knees wedged against the bar, slurping up cold salty ones. And, tied up here at pier side, 7H beats any cruise ship and every warship. 

Where can the mind go, the memories wander. Far and wide, and to snow and icy places. 

Not my intent to be up to ring in at 12, so how shall I ring out at 8? Australian cab and a burger, red rare with a crunchy slice of onion, mayo and dab of mustard? 

And what about tomorrows? Bring 'em on.

DThos+ crossing +Time+