2024 was my phoenix year. My mom died, I finished throat cancer radiation, my sister & sister-in-law also finished cancer treatments, I quit my job of 30 years. However, my mom no longer suffers from Alzheimer's, all three of us with cancer are now cancer free, I started a new job that respects me an makes me feel valued, people still by my self-published book after 8 years and 2025 will be the best year ever. Hope you have a happy new year Jeff!
I want to loiter in the retired circus with you and sip on yesterday's hot toddy, which is still lukewarm in my Yeti, while watching the kids play with their drones or whatever they get these days.
Dear Jeff, I liked this post. I liked the way you turned prose into poetry, and rendered those complex Holiday emotional upheavals into simple thoughts we've all felt. Because of your economy of words, my thoughts and feelings bubbled to the surface. And that, sir, is the essence of art. Well done, and Happy New Year!
The thoughtful but thoughtless gifts. The warm hat and gloves and scarf set for the snowbird. The weird tea flavors. The solar-lit bird feeder, what, so the birds can eat at night? The guilt for not appreciating their generosity. December flavor of the month: Disappoint Mint.
It is unnecessarily sad, though somewhat literary. Outlooks shape outcomes. Pessimism loses. You have had an exceptional life as an author, and most of the 8 billion people on Earth probably would change places with you instantly. Brighten up. A new year comes.
2024 was my phoenix year. My mom died, I finished throat cancer radiation, my sister & sister-in-law also finished cancer treatments, I quit my job of 30 years. However, my mom no longer suffers from Alzheimer's, all three of us with cancer are now cancer free, I started a new job that respects me an makes me feel valued, people still by my self-published book after 8 years and 2025 will be the best year ever. Hope you have a happy new year Jeff!
I want to loiter in the retired circus with you and sip on yesterday's hot toddy, which is still lukewarm in my Yeti, while watching the kids play with their drones or whatever they get these days.
Dear Jeff, I liked this post. I liked the way you turned prose into poetry, and rendered those complex Holiday emotional upheavals into simple thoughts we've all felt. Because of your economy of words, my thoughts and feelings bubbled to the surface. And that, sir, is the essence of art. Well done, and Happy New Year!
Life is a series of moments, take them as they come...
I like your style!
I like oaks!
also at sunrise? ;-)
Lovely writing🤘👽
thank you
The thoughtful but thoughtless gifts. The warm hat and gloves and scarf set for the snowbird. The weird tea flavors. The solar-lit bird feeder, what, so the birds can eat at night? The guilt for not appreciating their generosity. December flavor of the month: Disappoint Mint.
Aww. All my Christmases are OK, because I don’t have high expectations. As long as I go to Christmas Eve candlelight service I’m fine. 🎄🕯️
We do NOT put up a Christmas tree this year and that is fine.
The secret to not being disappointed is low expectations 😉
Next year, I will do better.
Indeed.
It is unnecessarily sad, though somewhat literary. Outlooks shape outcomes. Pessimism loses. You have had an exceptional life as an author, and most of the 8 billion people on Earth probably would change places with you instantly. Brighten up. A new year comes.
Alas. You thought I was writing about me.
Thank heavens I was wrong. Best wishes.
Love this! Happy New Year! May 2025 be a year you want to remember!