For me, 2017 went out with a December vengeance.
Made dinner for Jenise’s birthday: my version of Gordon Ramsay’s lobster mac and cheese, plus figgy date pudding with homemade–I said homemade!–toffee sauce.
Home run. Wonderful.
Christmas was relatively harmless: Jenise’s mother joined us for dinner (I didn’t get veto power on this, but ok), I had a few recipe oopsies (not enough cheese for my cauliflower bake, and glazed beet donuts that tasted great the first day but didn’t keep well after that.)
Somewhere in the middle, Jenise came down with a winter bug, and in the process of taking care of her–of course!–she gave it to me. It didn’t treat me the same: Jenise had congestion, slight cough, and a scratchy throat. I got a raw throat, high fever, congestion, and a hacking cough that left my head pounding in agony.
Nevertheless, I persisted. We stayed in for New Year’s Eve and prayed in the New Year as if we were at Watch Night service. Apparently, we missed some Mariah Carey drama on TV. Don’t care.
I say all of this to express my humanness before 2018 really kicks in. Everybody says that 2017 was rough. I agree…it was crazy, and I spent many days angry with the world. That’s not likely to change in 2018…unless we the people succeed in turning Bizaroworld back into the United States of America.
For now, I’m going to sit back, sip some lemon ginger tea, and finish watching the Twilight Zone marathon until I conk out.
Happy New Year!