* To rise just as the light begins to filter in through the blinds on the last Sunday of the year. To discover my room mate already shoveling snow. When I join him the sounds of our swipes reverberate. Are we waking the neighbors? The snow properly tidied, off he goes to gather grub while I drive through the magic of freshly fallen snow to a warm coffee house. I am alone by the window deciphering the NYT puzzle--until red nosed people begin to filter in and it is back to home where the aroma of his breakfast fills the air.
* May your New Year be like Fair Isle patterns:dynamic, bursting with color, full of details yet harmoniously flowing from one to another with ease.
*"I don't believe in the 'best of' books. It creates a hierarchy, and books are not hierarchy, books are medicine. We read what we need to heal us."
* "You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves."
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