I always pictured the next one with different hair than what I'm seeing. I've always preferred it longer than that. For that matter, I'm fond of a sturdier build. I doubt I'll ever get that out of my head entirely - because of all those years, I'll always have that weakness, and the standard for comparison is established.

But the desire for the new has been growing, and the time finally seems right. The opportunity's there, it'll be so much better than what's in my house anyway, and I can't seem to resist her multifaceted face.

Should this become the stuff that lasts, I'll have to look back for a starting point to that night she licked my toes with no warning whatsoever. If I hadn't been thinking about her already, I sure the hell was then.

I pick up my new cat tomorrow, adopted away from my bride's family farm, and hope to have fewer invading mice in the new year. Perhaps as well, she'll help my son in growing to understand that there are things, that are not him, that require care.

May all the actions you take in preparations for the new year be as intriguingly sensible, as aimed at shortcutting to what you need, to where you're going.

Make no mistake: the next year will demand, and reward, all the best that you can muster. I have that on authority of the gibbering gibbous moon.