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
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!”