I started 2017 in an unlikely place, the Polurrian Bay Hotel on the west coast of Cornwall, storied location of shipwrecks and not too far (but not too close) to Ross Poldark’s Nampara. I know this because we trained into Truro, which was larger and more paved than it appears to have been two hundred years ago. I packed lightly and poorly, so I wore the same clothes all week, which added a piquant 18th century aroma to the whole experience.
The hotel is kid and dog friendly and was packed with both. There were fireworks on New Year’s, which the kids liked and the dogs did not. We’d brought a considerable number of those kids with us, but no dogs. Not for lack of wanting.
Back home our new dog Lily, courtesy of the Santa Cruz Animal Shelter, was being cared for by a friend. Here she is, after an exciting (and lingering) skunk encounter.
Looking ahead to 2017 felt more sober and sad than in any year past now that my government has become an enemy to me. Nothing will stop January 20th from coming. Nothing will stop the extremists now in complete control of every branch. All we can do is protest and resist and support those others who are protesting and resisting.