Epilogues: January 2015
Now is not the winter of our discontent. Now is not yet the triumphal procession towards spring. Now is the holy roll of ordinary time at Tabby’s Place.
Now is not the winter of our discontent. Now is not yet the triumphal procession towards spring. Now is the holy roll of ordinary time at Tabby’s Place.
If years were condiments, 2015 would be a fresh jar of Jif. Today is fresh, unsullied, full of poetry and possibility. But before we plunge into that smooth unknown, here’s one last tarantella with Old Man 2014.