Farewell to 2021

Wrapping up another year with a somewhat random assortment of little things, starting with some bright foliage on a winter's day.

This year I learned about the U.S. Postal Service's Operation Santa program when a colleague suggested we form a team to fulfill some wishes. As one of Santa's elves, I adopted letters from five children and spread some Christmas magic.

Strolling back from one of those trips to the post office, I was surprised to find several goats (and a dog) tethered to some lampposts. Their nomadic herdsman emerged from the library, a stopover on his way from place to place.

I'm still working from home (week 95), with occasional visits to the office (once that became possible). My hair is even longer, I've shed another pound, I've gotten vaccinated, boosted, and have managed to stay healthy. I lost a distant member of my extended family (who had serious pre-existing health issues) to Covid-19.

I developed a fairly regular cycling routine, which led to climbing more than 102,000 feet over more than 3,000 miles. I'd planned to climb up Bernal once a month, but fell short; my last climb was in May. Shorter days turned after-work rides to after-work hikes, until our timekeeping switched from daylight savings to standard.

For some variety, I finally explored a hilly neighborhood park that I'd long meant to visit.

A tomato plant sprouted unexpectedly in early May. It wasn't the variety I normally cultivate; maybe it was my reward for pressing a (spoiled) cherry tomato into that box?

Springtime gusts sent an empty bird's nest to the ground, and I was astonished see some of my own hair woven into it. A bit of lint, and hair, does escape the filter and make its way out of the clothes dryer's vent; I'm guessing that's how my avian friend scavenged it. I surely would have noticed if a bird had plucked (!) any strands from my head. [There's a newly-coined word for that: kleptotrichy.]

The Computer History Museum recognized Lillian Schwartz with a Fellow award (albeit without the fancy celebration that would have happened in the Before Times). Those of us who tuned in live had a creative opportunity to honor Lillian and her art by contributing to a word cloud.

Words of inspiration. Words to live by. In the year ahead, and thereafter.