The first day of the [actual] year was much like the last of the last; dark, damp and

just like the old one.  But while praying one of his government rockets falls on Elon, and soon,

the afternoon was more of the same…

as was the next morning.

Nonetheless it became a day to go to Vallejo to wash 80’s roadslime off the Tundra

and, after an intense Thai massage, have a look at all that nothing down by the water.

Well almost nothing anyway; meanwhile the mail brought a lot of somethings

from Stephen’s summer Pennsylvania yard sale forays

and in the evening we went to dinner, again the Indian as promised to Bryan who I realize developed a taste for such exotica during his several deployments near easterly and beyond.

The next, Christmas Eve Day, was even murkier than usual

until an afternoon rarity of sunshine wherein

we ventured down the freeway and up into the hills of El Cerrito for an afternoon

of holiday feasting and libationing with old friends

which included a studio visit between the lavish lunch and the passion fruit tarts until

the light began to fade and all headed home, some to Inverness and some to

Benicia where Christmas morning, though v. sorefooted from all yesterday’s stairs, I initiated

a subtle art project of anonymous Pennsylvania HotWheels Distribution in hopes that they

would find loving loving homes, v. out of shape on an afternoon bike ride which proved curiously eventful in that I not only intersected Gregg Renfrow, bundled up drawing at the bottom of Semple  but also man about town David Trumbull rumbling around town in a new Corvette

he said his girlfriend had given him for Christmas…and all I got was a homemade card,

perfection for who it’s for. After dinner we spent the evening visiting with family in Vancouver

through the Magic of the Internet, and that was Christmas…

Hope it was all Very Merry regardless and for everyone so inclined [to either Christmas

or merriment or both]…Ho Ho Ho.