Count them.  You have ten.  What are you doing with them? * * * Last Saturday was brutally cold on the beach. Hypothermia stalked walkers. Why, later in the day it was possible to find fingers littering the beach, fingers that had frozen and fallen off like the last vestiges of a once fiery but …

Hope is needed for the new year, but it begins as a wadded-up mess. This past week consisted of name-calling, finger pointing and character assassinations over the demise of democracy. Where? Why, in the hallowed halls of higher power where the clown charade performs. Business as usual there. Confusion reigns. Can Hope live again? The …

Let come what comes, let go what goes. See what remains.  * * * Here we go again, a new year, a new beginning.  Whoopee. Give this baby a good spank, get it breathing, screaming, wild for life. Then hug it, kiss it, embrace it. It’s ours now. What will we do with it? Say …