Happy New Year From Four Different Countries

1/1/2016

Greetings From Derrick Z. Jackson and Dr. Michelle Holmes. Photo by Derrick, just returned.

Sunrise, New Year's Day, Fujisawa, Kanagawa Prefecture. Photo by Haruko

Unidentified Revelers, Long Island, New York

New Year's Eve, Copacabana, Rio -- Altenir, Neo, Celia.

Altenir Silva

1/1/2016 11:56:18 am

Dear George,

We wish all good for you and your family.

2016 with health, peace and love!

Altenir, Celia and Neo (from Copacabana - Rio - Brazil)

bruce

1/1/2016 09:58:36 pm

george,

no photos from moi. until a few days ago we didn't have any snow, just lots of brown and a fading green.

had the rose bowl on as background noise as i was reading martin short's book. that kid mccaffrey put on quite a show. people with the skill to do everything at top speed without missing a beat are hard to defend against.....

2016 seems pretty much like 2015 so far.

bruce

George Vecsey

1/2/2016 10:54:45 am

No snow in The True North Strong and Free?
It always snows there, doesn't it?
Happy New Year, anyway.
GV

"Farm houses buried under Canada's snow" -- Anna and Kate, The Walking Song

bruce

1/2/2016 02:30:17 pm

george,

it's been hard as hell building our igloos...as you can imagine.

caught me a nice big seal and ate him raw tho only after giving him a good clubbing.

bruce

Ed Martin

1/2/2016 06:11:55 pm

Our Canadian friends keep posting lovely snow scenes, however, they are here in Florida. I like to keep good relationships so I pointed out to our Montreal amis that the Habs goalie is an American and that the Junior team from the US beat the Canadian team the other day. They keep bringing up the Olympics or some such past history. Tell Bruce to chase down that seal meat with a Tim Horton's donut or a Seal Poutine.
Buen Ano Nuevo

bruce

1/2/2016 09:51:51 pm

we have a word for those canadians.

cowardly.

think les habs have also had an american captain.

i only use seal meat with my poutine if they're really cute and have clubbed to death humanely. as for tim hortons.....first of all the apostrophe is dead. not used in french so it was dropped for the benefit of quebec where it might have confused the poor buggers or brought out the tongue police. i live in the hamilton area. it is with great pride for many denizens of the city that the first tim hortons in the history of the universe opened in 1964 on ottawa street in hamilton. i don't drink coffee so my visits are rare.

George Vecsey

1/2/2016 06:34:14 pm

Igualmente.
La Meme
I would chase it down with a Laura Secord pudding. Used to cram a six-pack in my computer bag after a trip to Montreal.
GV

bruce

1/2/2016 09:57:10 pm

george,

i hope the statute of limitations is in effect when president trump takes office next year. i'm guessing that your affection of laura second pudding could have you charged with treason.

. She is known for having walked 20 miles out of American-occupied territory in 1813 to warn British forces of an impending American attack.

it's too bad you didn't have a hero like this in your history, huh?

Ed Martin

1/3/2016 03:55:56 pm

Hey didn't you ever hear of Joan of Arc?

bruce

1/3/2016 06:45:46 pm

ed,

not only have i heard of Jeanne d'Arc but i've been to rouen and saw where they burned her at the stake. i can see the american connection tho since her country ensured that americans aren't speaking with english accents today.....

Comments are closed.

QUOTES
More and More, I Talk to the Dead--Margaret Renkl

NASHVILLE — After my mother died so suddenly — laughing at a rerun of “JAG” at 10 p.m., dying of a hemorrhagic stroke by dawn — I dreamed about her night after night. In every dream she was willfully, outrageously alive, unaware of the grief her death had caused. In every dream relief poured through me like a flash flood. Oh, thank God!
Then I would wake into keening grief all over again.
Years earlier, when my father learned he had advanced esophageal cancer, his doctor told him he had perhaps six months to live. He lived far longer than that, though I never thought of it as “living” once I learned how little time he really had. For six months my father was dying, and then he kept dying for two years more. I was still working and raising a family, but running beneath the thin soil of my own life was a river of death. My father’s dying governed my days.
After he died, I wept and kept weeping, but I rarely dreamed about my father the way I would dream about my mother nearly a decade later. Even in the midst of calamitous grief, I understood the difference: My father’s long illness had given me time to work death into the daily patterns of my life. My mother’s sudden death had obliterated any illusion that daily patterns are trustworthy.
Years have passed now, and it’s the ordinariness of grief itself that governs my days. The very air around me thrums with absence. I grieve the beloved high-school teacher I lost the summer after graduation and the beloved college professor who was my friend for more than two decades. I grieve the father I lost nearly 20 years ago and the father-in-law I lost during the pandemic. I grieve the great-grandmother who died my junior year of college and the grandmother who lived until I was deep into my 40s.
Some of those I grieve are people I didn’t even know. How can John Prine be gone? I hear his haunting last song, “I Remember Everything,” and I still can’t quite believe that John Prine is gone.
-----
https://www.nytimes.com/2023/01/30/opinion/death-grief-memory.html
Jan. 30, 2023

Happy New Year From Four Different Countries

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