To the new year, a greeting.
To the old year, the back of the head.
(So saith the dog, anyhow.)
(And it's a sorrow--albeit a very small one--to me that though I now have a proper (and in fact extraordinary) flash for my camera, I will never be able to use it to shoot the dog, whom it terrifies because of its resemblance to lightning, the only part of thunderstorms that she can still perceive now that she's deaf. Just a test of the flash the night I came home from the Mayhem sent the dog into a fit of trembling that earned me my first serious parental reprimand in a long time.)