Happy New Year, friends. I never want another year like 2019 but, you know, we made it through it somehow.

Even Cleveland posted an excerpt from good old Thomas Stearns’ long poem Little Gidding for the new year. I haven’t been reading a lot of Eliot lately but this seems appropriate:


What we call the beginning is often the end
And to make an end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from. And every phrase
And sentence that is right […]
Every phrase and every sentence is an end and a beginning,
Every poem an epitaph. And any action
Is a step to the block, to the fire, down the sea’s throat
Or to an illegible stone: and that is where we start.


That is where we start, indeed. Here’s to starting at the beginning, after the end of everything.