It’s Not the End of the World — Just the End of the Year.

Photo Elizabeth O’Nuanain

But to be on the safe side, I have Blackeyed Peas cooking away for our New Year’s lunch. To start off, I just wanted to say that until the news announced the death of Betty White last night, I had hoped and believed that 2021 was better than 2020. After all, Trump had lost the election, Biden had Lady Gaga at his inauguration, and at least initially everyone seemed on the same page regarding denouncing the January 6th insurrection — except for the Q-congresspeople and other bat-shit crazy personalities. Things descended quickly into the shit show we all bid farewell to last night, but there was still Betty’s centennial to look forward to. And if I had stuck to my guns and not opened Twitter before going to bed, I still would have hoped to see it happen. But Betty White died and 2021 left a foul taste in my mouth.

Still onward and upward. It’s a new day and I am taking some time to acknowledge the hopeful and the good in my life. Tillie is still with me and going strong. For someone fast approaching her sixtieth birthday, I feel pretty good. I have a wonderful study to type out this missive and a strong enough wifi signal to launch it out into the universe. I love and am loved. Every morning I look out my kitchen window and see the Dunmannus Bay. In short, I am chock-a-block with sights, sounds, smells and beings that bring me joy.

Finally, I forgive Betty White for going the way of 2021. She blessed the world with ninety-nine years of awesomeness, and for that I am grateful.

So, Happy New Year folks. May 2022 see you loved and loving. May it see you healthful and hopeful. May the coming year be dull as dishwater but safe and pain-free.

Love Y’all,

Lizzy (and Tillie too)

Tillie. Photo by Elizabeth O’Nuanain

#BettyWhite #Hope #NewYear039sDay #Writing

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