In which I lament having nothing to talk about, and remember when I once did.
In which I pull back a pair of masks I’ve worn most of my life, and try not to sound terrible about them.
In which I consider the impact and possibilities contained within the annual Farmer’s Almanac.
In which I found a way to begin is to pick anywhere to start, travel as far from it as you can, and when you have circled around to the beginning again, you have found the end.
In which I look around at my world and try to determine where lines can be drawn, where things can be hidden, and how to make everything discoverable at just the right time…