I seem to have forgotten to post this, but I guess its seasonal nature is still appropo, so post away we will.
Being not a Christian, nor a rabid consumer, it’s my habit to slip into hibernation around now, and to re-emerge once the Gregorian calendar’s New Year’s sillinesses have subsided and life resumes its more usual patterns. Days of obligatory happiness, be they these, or national markers, or saintly ones, all tend to make people more cantankerous – lemmings in flying silver sardine cans, ski slopes crammed, roads jammed, all in the name of dubious requisite celebrations for things few believe in, producing errant gifts and angry family get togethers. I’ll pass.
[Note: there's a new post up for my daughter, Clara, on her blog. ]
Despite the bah humbug above,
Boas Festas e Feliz Ano Novo, Clara !



One Comment
I’ve read some of your comments in letters to NY Times.
I’d like to be in touch with you.
Send me e-mail.
Roger