I'm lousy at making predictions and resolutions. Brutal optimism is usually at fault. It buries my visiting cynic that threatens a takeover now and then. With hope as my modus operandi, I can't possibly be relied on to tell you what will work and won't in 2013: I hope for it all to be good. So much for predictions. Can we change the language to say "What are your hopes for the new year?"
It is the day of reckoning. Was it a good year? Did we learn anything? After the December blitz, we at Wit's End are not quite snowed in but almost. I am set for my New Years Eve tradition of making sour cherry strudel with possible help from other family baking enthusiasts. Champagne is on ice. The other half is cooking up a storm of sauce and garlic and the scent is sure to wake up the teen sleep monsters. No one has made coffee but I will forge ahead with my Red List anyway. Caffeine is overrated. Scratch that. It is everything.
I called my children's school on Friday afternoon to speak to the security guys working the front desk. I didn't think much about doing it before I acted. It was purely an emotional response to the school shooting in Newtown, Connecticut that morning. "I want..to thank you guys..for all that you do, I mean..to keep our kids safe." I sputtered. They thanked me and told me they would"take anyone down" if they tried to enter the place.