Okay, okay, November brought us a National Nightmare that hasn't even started yet -- oh the bad dreams we'll have . . . which will reveal themselves to actually be not-dreams at all -- but before that? The year was gorgeous and fabulous.
Let's take a Look Back together, shall we?
How else would we start the New Year? Where else would we start the New Year? Watch Hill, Rhode Island, baby. On January Oneth as my Dad would say. Perfection.
We had some beauties of snow days, man. The older I get the less I care about the injustices of winter. I mean, time flies. And that includes winter.
Bring it, I say.
Because then it's over and there are croci.
Oh, April? Only one of the most epic weddings of the century. Man, we love those two like crazy.
The Field! Our Field. The Tree! Our Tree. Our life changed intrinsically and immeasurably in May.
Plus that epic cousin visit in Boston? A highlight of the year for the ages.
And then all of a sudden it was summer and warm and lovely . . .
. . . and then it was deeper summer and the whole world greened up and there is no better time of year. Nevermind what I said earlier about winter. Winter is for chumps.
I may love August even more than July. But that's impossible given my love for July. So nevermind what I said earlier about August.
Oh but wait. I love September. Back at Watch Hill.
Still, it was hard to choose the lusciousness of The Habeneros or The Field to represent September. Because The Habeneros and The Field? Lush. September is lush.
And our Katrin visit? I mean, I can't even.
Oh, October? Oh, another wedding of the century? Oh man, those two. I mean those five. I'm in love with that whole family.
And then came November. Sigh. Damn that November.
It was pretty to look at, though:
And Thanksgiving and Mom and Mistah's hike made it memorable in ways that helped us forget the other pesky stuff. Not forget, ignore. Not ignore, tolerate. Not tolerate . . . just . . . try to live.
December was just last week. So shockingly? Weirdly? Bizarrely? I actually remember my memories of December. Which is quite remarkable in itself.
Christmas! My peeps! Aunt Lill!
It's 2017, and there's only one thing to do -- collectively -- at a time like this.