And we're here. 365 Days from last year, with absolutely no ability (or hindsight) to have predicted anything in the past year. I'm likely to kick off soon with a more developed recollection of 2020, but for this morning, January 1st, 2021, I want to get acclimated in a new space (with others who have been with me on this 14-year journey).
As always, there's a montage to accompany this day, and it's shorter than usual, because I tried to stay away from the grim, grey, and face-masked year that it was. Still, there were moments of life that were extra special and times when things almost seemed normal.*
customary: cus*tom*ar*y /ˈkəstəˌmerē
adjective: according to or depending on custom; usual; habitual. Of or established by law, tradition, and norms.
I am setting forth with another year that is Crandall customary, or customary Crandall, and aiming for 365 more days of routine mental meandering (that, and I am continuing my resolution to always return grocery carts back to the front of the store.
Today is January 1st and like Janus I am looking behind and forward. Mom's 'fuck yeah' cookies are all gone (shared with others) and I can think about my new Sauconys, two-weeks of professional responsibility to the University, then a new semester of courses. My sabbatical report is written and only needs to be edited, and I have optimism that things will get better for all. We need it, too. 2020 is a year we will look back on with WTF? still on our shoulders. As Susan James said all year long, "FFS."
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