Birthdays

Today is my mother's birthday--I won't tell how old she is, as she's still pretty strong. :) My brother, Jerry, is celebrating today, too. He's a couple of years younger than I am, so I'm not telling his age, either. Yes, their birthdays are on the same day--and here's the kicker: Dad and I shared June 10 as well. Sisters Sally and Pam, May 21 and January 18 respectively, have birthdays-at-large. Sally was supposed to be visiting now, but the weather is too dicey. Wish you could have made it, Sis.

The snow is still deep, but the horses don't seem to mind. They run around in the shin-deep stuff like they were on bare ground. They're always happy to come in around sundown, though--often have icicles hanging from their manes and forelocks. Always ready to have supper and snug in for the night in their stalls.

Sadie and Bear are still confounded by the snow. You can almost hear them thinking, "What IS this stuff????" Arizona dogs, alas.

Flannery and Logan are waiting for me in fictional Stillwater Springs, Montana. Best get saddled up and on the trail.

Make it a good day.

Cycles

It's still dark out as I write this--I see lights glimmering on the other side of the valley, but the snow-laden trees are still invisible. In daylight, the landscape is calendar-beautiful.

Maybe it's the weather--lots of snow on the ground and more predicted for tomorrow--that has me thinking of spring. And of seeds and cycles. A time to sow, and a time to reap. One of the best things about being back in the northwest is the changing of the seasons; it reminds me that we mortals have cycles, too. Seasons of growth, seasons of waiting and working quietly and trusting.

This little part of the planet only seems dormant; I know all sorts of wonderful processes are going on under the ground, in the trunks and roots of trees and plants. And yet, like most people, I still yearn for blooming roses and fawns with spots, green and growing grass, the neighbor's peacocks wandering past. I find waiting for spring--or anything else--to be a challenge.

It seems safe to say that we, like Mother Earth, must have our fallow times, if we would burst through the soil under some warm and future sun and unfurl our leaves, delicate at first, and then sturdy. We must be patient, and learn to honor our processes, methinks. Everything in Creation seems to have one--so why not people? Why not dreams?

Weather or Not...

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

But send a plow. :)

The stuff is STILL coming down. As it stands, it would be easier getting out of here on horseback than in a car!

Fortunately, I don't have to commute. I'll just stay right here and write today's portion of "Logan's Return". It's summer in Montana, where the book is set--ah, the power of the imagination. It can transport us anywhere.

I guess that's why books are such a joy.

Still Snowed In

But the landscape is breathtakingly beautiful. A literal winter wonderland--but too deep to walk in.

The horses seem to love it--Coco dashed out of her stall this morning with her tail and her spirits high. April, who is a neatnik, was upset last night because Traveler took her stall. Believe it or not, she keeps it in a certain way. :)She is darling, and slightly prissy for a horse!

I had a pretty productive weekend, given that, or because, I was snowed in. No heading out to the casino, that's for sure. In fact I gave the animals orders--nobody gets sick! I worked on the basic structure of an outline for a new book, read through the chapters of "Logan's Return" I've written so far, and even made a dent in the mess in my art room. (This is a place you do not want to go without a whip and chair.)

The snow is higher than Bernice's head, and about equal with Sadie's. As former Arizona dogs, they are still a little stymied by all that white stuff. We are having a plow blade added to the farm's ATV today.

It's always something around here.

Still Crafting

Why didn't you stop me? :)

I'm excited. The new book, "Logan's Return", part of next year's three-in-a-row release, is going very well. I set a goal to rack up 5000 words per day, and I've been doing that. I just get sucked right into the story, with the characters, and I love that. They're a lively bunch, though, so I'm pretty pooped when the work day ends.

I'm addicted to the little resin collages I've been making--maybe it's the fumes--and you'll be so proud. I haven't left a smudge on one of them by touching too soon.

The sun still isn't up, and I've already journaled, which is the first thing I do, besides taking the dogs out and starting the coffee. That means I'll get an early start on the day's word quota, and probably finish earlier than usual.

I'm heading to California for a visit with daughter Wendy on February 4. Her birthday is the 6th. I'm taking my laptop, and she and I are planning to write. She's a screenwriter, and not much is happening for her right now, because of the strike. She's been on jury duty this last little while, and I'm fascinated by that. Mum's the word, though, until it's over. Wendy takes jury duty seriously. I will be blogging from Santa Monica, so I'll let you know whether we actually write, or just goof off the whole time. We love to talk shop--plots, characterization, etc. I can't wait to see her.

Well, gang, we've made it through another week. This morning, I prayed for each and every one of you. May you be blessed, on all levels.

Make it a good weekend. The choice is up to you.

P.S.

Something funny. A few days ago, I wrote about making a list of the qualities I was looking for in a man, and tucking it away in an underwear drawer. My cousin Doris read it and thought I'd said I put the list in my underwear. Her reaction? "Man, that girl is serious!"

Stop Me Before I Craft Again!

Painter Bob Ross used to talk about 'happy accidents' in art, and I've just had one. During my good friend Vicki Webster's recent visit, we stopped at Michael's, which, as you know, is one of my favorite places. As I've mentioned, I've been experimenting a lot with resin lately--10 failures for every success, but hey. I'm getting better at it.

Anyway, I found those little silver favor trays in the wedding section, and a light went on! I bought a packet, brought them home, coated them with metal primer, and painted away. Using clip art, I made a little collage, glued it into the bottom of the tray, and WAITED (the hardest part) for the thing to dry. Then I mixed up some resin and poured it in and WAITED again. (I've ruined at least half a dozen earlier pieces because I couldn't keep myself from touching the surface to see if it was hard yet. Then there were the ones that never hardened at all because I hadn't mixed the resin well enough. Impatience is my besetting sin.) Like I said, 10 failures for every success. Or semi-success!

What have I learned? It would be better to sand the trays before the metal primer goes on, and a coat of gesso on top of that works even better. We craft, we learn.

Here's a little secret I'm only telling you. Each of my pieces has a mustard seed in it somewhere, that's my trademark. Why a mustard seed?

Because of the Bible verse, of course. "If you have faith as a grain of mustard seed, nothing shall be impossible to you." Have you ever looked at a mustard seed? Tiny, tiny, tiny. Hint: you can find mustard seeds in the spice section of most grocery stores, if you don't remember how small they are.

So many wonderful things can happen if you have just that much faith.

What do YOU need to believe can happen?

Decisions

OK, I've got a great life. I'm the first one to say so. But I have challenges, too. Nobody escapes that--I think it's the whole point of the exercise, in fact. It's one thing to be on the other side, where everything is peachy, look into this troubled world, and say, "I could do that. No problem." Of course, actually being here, in the thick of things, is another matter, isn't it?

Here's what I've learned. No matter what is going on, I can decide on my attitude. I can give in to frustration, throw my hands up, and say, "The hell with it!" Believe me, I've done that, because this cowgirl is nothing if not bull-headed. (I like to say I'm persistent. Those who know me best say 'stubborn' instead. And sometimes they add adjectives, like 'bone' or 'cussed'. Both phrases are synonymous with 'Lael'.)

Today, I've decided to be grateful. Period. No matter what.

That's my decision, and I'm sticking to it. :)

What about you?

Lists

There's a good article in this month's issue of Oprah magazine. The author tells of writing a list of 100 qualities she'd like in a husband. With a difficult divorce behind her, and having been widowed after her second marriage, her prospects didn't look too hot. On the advice of a counselor, she wrote the list anyway, and tucked it away. Five years later, she met a man who had 98 of the 100 qualities she had asked for! I'm here to tell you, I was impressed. Impressed enough to make my own list of 100. It rests safely in my underwear drawer at this very moment. I recommend that you read the article, even if you're not in the market for a husband or wife. (Believe me, I don't mind being single. I'm pretty cussed and set in my ways, but I can't resist this type of experiment.) The list of 100 could apply to any kind of goal--financial, educational--or just a 'bucket' list. (The things you want to do and experience before you kick the bucket.) I've got one of those underway, too. What do we have to lose, after all, besides some ink, some thought, and a few sheets of paper?

What if it WORKED?????

It's important to read the follow-up article, because it contains some excellent advice.

Other Linda recommendations (books):

The Traveler's Gift, by Andy Andrews

Secrets of the Lost Mode of Prayer, by Gregg Braden.

Go make a list.

I promise to keep you posted on mine.

I Have a Dream

That everyone, everywhere, will live in just and lasting peace. That people really will beat their swords into plowshares. That the sick will be healed, the suffering will be comforted, the hungry will be fed, the lost will be found.

OK, it's a big dream. It seems downright impossible, doesn't it?

Well, that didn't stop Dr. King from dreaming, and it isn't going to stop me, either. Because once we give up, it's all over but the shoutin'.

On the other hand, what good is a dream, if it doesn't have a foundation in reality? What can we, the individual Jane or Joe, do to make it happen?

We can believe it's possible. God said it was, and I believe Him.

We can be kind. What goes around, comes around, kiddo.

We can give folks the benefit of the doubt, one by one, as we meet them. I know I've certainly needed grace and the patience of others, every day of my life.

We can remember that we're all in this together, and it's sink or swim.

This cowgirl is for swimmin', big time.

Come on in. The water's turbulent, but we'll stay afloat if we keep our heads.

Kitchen Table Blog

It's one of those days again. Vicki got in around eight pm, and we came back to the house and talked and talked and talked. There was a lot of catching up to do, obviously. Now, we're drinking coffee at the kitchen table and I'm writing this blog. Oh, the wonders of wireless technology.

If you could see this table. An art book. The current manuscript. A cake tote from yesterday's birthdays. Sadie is snoring behind me in Bernice's bed, and Bernice is snoozing in Sadie's. Contrary creatures. Is it because they're female? :)

We'll be going to check out the lake house, as Vicki hasn't been there yet. We'll probably hit Wal-Mart and Michael's, too, and possibly the casino. I'm on the outs with the Prince at the moment. :) It's all take with him, and not give.

Have a nice weekend, my friends. I'm thinking of you all.

Mary Ann's Birthday

I often mention Mary Ann on this blog, and some of you probably wonder who the heck she is. :) So I'll tell you. She's my first cousin--we were raised together, literally in the same cradle or crib. (When we were two, we used to get into fist fights.) She also works for me as housekeeper/troubleshooter/right-hand woman, and her husband Larry is the guy I often refer to as the Canadian wrangler.

Anyhow, Mary Ann is six months younger than I am, so for half the year, she makes sure to rub that in. June to January, I'm officially a year older. January to June, on the other hand, we're the same age, and I never let her forget it.

Today is her birthday, so she's in for six months of guff from me. :)

It's also my friend Vicki's birthday, and she'll be arriving this evening for a weekend visit, long overdue.

We plan to celebrate around here, but we're also grieving, as the Wiley ranch house, the one where Gramma told me so many wonderful stories beside her old-fashioned wood-burning cook stove, burned night before last. Mary Ann and I both cried--that house was part of our shared history--but when the tears dried, we realized nothing could ever take the memories away. Springing out of bed on cold winter mornings, for instance, but ONLY when we heard the stove lids rattling downstairs. We'd run for the kitchen, over frosty-cold floors, and hop up and down while we waited for the fire to get going in the stove. That always made Gramma laugh. Grampa, preparing to head for the barn to feed and milk cows, etc., usually grinned and tossed off one of his famous limericks. He made them up constantly, funny little poems that included our name and some characteristic for which we were known.

There is much to be thankful for, even with the ranch house gone. My nephew Andy's young family lived in that house, and everyone got out safely. Northport has rallied, in that way of small towns, to provide shelter, clothes, all the necessities. I have reason to know how good that feels, when a community works as an extended family--you see, our house burned down, nearly fifty years ago now, and we were met with the same open-hearted generosity. By nightfall the day after the fire, we had a house, clothes, pots, pans--even toys.

It's bittersweet, to be sure. But if there's one thing certain in life, it's change.

So I will celebrate Mary Ann and Vicki's birthdays today, and rejoice that the younger Wileys are all safe. That's what really matters. And the ranch house will stand in my memory and my heart for as long as I live.

Good-bye, old house. Thanks for all the warmth on snowy nights, the laughter and the card games and the yarns Uncle Raymond told about Big Foot. Thanks for Gramma's stories, and Grampa's poems. Thanks for all the salads fresh from the garden, all the Christmas trees and Thanksgiving turkeys and birthday cakes. Thanks for your lights, shining a welcome in the country darkness. Thanks for your gate, swinging wide open on creaky hinges. (It was fun to ride that gate as it swung.) And most of all, thanks for always having room for one more person, small though you were. You were never painted, never fancy, but you were home.

My Journal

I don't know what I'd do without my journal. It really gets my head on straight--gives me perspective and good ideas. There's a lot to be said for getting stuff out of your brain and onto paper, where you can see it. This morning, for instance, I worked out some plot problems there. I would go so far as to say that journaling is a form of prayer with me. I buy mine at Walmart, because the fancy ones intimidate me. I start thinking my great-great-granddaughter might read this, and instead of being real, I find myself trying to look good to posterity. :)

I didn't mention that the new front doors I bought with Dad's legacy are finally installed, and do they ever look beautiful. I can just see him down there, inspecting them to make sure the weather-seal is tight and the locks will hold. As well as a cowboy, a marshal, and the world's greatest father, you see, Dad was a carpenter and handyman. He'd love those doors.

Tomorrow, both Mary Ann and my good friend Vicki are celebrating birthdays. Vicki will be arriving on an early-evening flight for a weekend visit, and I can't wait to see her. We've been friends since Way Back. See you tomorrow night, Vick. I'll be the one with the big smile.

Well, guess I'd better get on with the day. I've got some great ideas for the book, thanks to my journal.

I Won!

Thank you for all your votes! "A Wanted Man" has been named the Best Western Romance of 2007 by the wonderful people at www.lovewesternromances.com!

I am so proud to have this award.

My monitor isn't working on my main computer--frustration city. I'm hot and heavy into "Logan's Return", and can't work on it until my tech guy rides to the rescue. Fortunately, Chris is on his way over.

We still have snow on the ground, but the sun is shining today. One of the many things I love about this part of Washington State--you can be in snow up to your saddle skirts, but the sun will shine just the same.

More tomorrow.

Paying the Price

I was up until almost 2 am finishing Sue Grafton's new book, "T is for Trespass". I've been reading the series since A--needless to say, I'm a major fan of both Grafton and Kinsey Millhone. So I woke up very late this morning, and I'm just getting to this blog now, fortified with a few cups of coffee. Thank heaven the Canadian Wrangler, Larry, is feeling better, and could go out and feed the horses.

My feet are snug--and brilliantly colorful--in my Hayseed rodeo clown socks. These babies are going on the road with me--sure would brighten up a hotel room.

I've booked my ticket to go and visit my baby girl in California February 4-10, so we can celebrate her birthday and just catch up on things. We're juggling schedules around here like crazy! How do I do all this and still write so many books?

When I find out, I'll let you know. :)

Hayseed Hotzler Rodeo Clown Socks

Rhea Hotzler of Long Prairie, MN, sent me the most fabulous gift! A pair of "Hayseed" Hotzler socks. They are marvelously warm and wildly colorful--I'm wearing them as I write this. (And my toes are toasty.)

Rhea's husband Gary (aka Hayseed) was a rodeo clown until he retired in 1981, and wore the socks as his trademark. They were knitted, as were mine, by a neighbor of the Hotzlers, originally as a way to use up leftover yarn in various colors. It has become a tradition to present the socks to all sorts of people (my pair is number 1160!), and the intention is to bring a smile. Even though Hayseed passed away in 1995, the socks--and the smiles--just keep on coming.

It certainly worked for me. :)

Rodeo clowns are rightly regarded as the bravest people in the arena. They keep the crowd laughing--even as they draw angry bulls and broncs away from cowboys who've been thrown. When my dad, then known as "Chip" Lael, was bullriding back in the forties, he knew Slim Pickens, rodeo-clown-later-turned actor. Dad got hurled off a bull, and was disconcerted when Slim came arm-pumping it past him with an anxious, "Cowboy, you'd better run!"

Rhea, I'll be thanking you personally, but I wanted to share this delightful gift on the blog, too.

You touched my heart, and I am much obliged, Ma'am.

Horses in Trouble

Earlier legislation made the slaughter of horses and the exportation of their meat illegal in the United States. That law has been circumvented by sending these helpless creatures out of the country--mostly to Mexico--for killing.

There is a bill coming before the Senate and the House that would put an end to this travesty, The American Horse Slaughter Prevention Act. It is VERY IMPORTANT that all of us contact our senators and representatives immediately. You can find them through www.USgov.org

For more information, please visit http://www.rallyforhorses.com/, sponsored by the Humane Society of the United States.

Thank you.

My Friday Prayer

Lord, bless the beasts and the children. Bring the lost ones home to warm hearts and houses.

Bless the leaders; flood their hearts with compassion and their minds with wisdom. May they love peace, as well as justice.

Bless those among us who are sick or discouraged. Remind us of all the reasons to hope.

Bless those who travel, and those who stay at home.

Bless those who struggle, and those who prosper.

Bless those who are in pain, and remind those who are not to celebrate.

Bless the teachers, the doctors and nurses, the police and the firefighters and especially the soldiers. Bless all those who protect and serve, and so often go unsung.

Most of all, Lord, make us grateful.

What Snow?

I promised myself I wouldn't mention it. :)

I was so full of great plans for yesterday. Here's what actually happened: I hit the wall. Took a hot bath, smeared myself with Vicks (smells like love), put my pajamas right back on, and crawled into bed. I slept and slept. Fortunately, when I arose, I felt a lot better. I figure everything caught up with me, all at once. Down for the count. Sadie and Bernice were happy to keep me company--you've heard of Delta Force? Well, they're Snuggle Force.

Our new stable hand, Jodi, is working out very well. She's strong and gentle, and knows horses.

The staff house, despite the preciptation-that-must-not-be-named, is coming together beautifully. I keep telling cousin/housekeeper Mary Ann that she and Larry can just stay here in the big house, and I'll move into the new one. Construction, construction, construction! First the barn, now the other house. I've been planning to renovate the main house, but I think I need a break from hammering, sawing, and the constant decisions.

That's what I say now, anyway. No doubt, by the end of the year, I'll be telling you all about the new master-suite wing. :)

Make it a lovely day. The choice is yours, however it may seem. You can't change a lot of what happens, but you can decide what attitude you're going to take.

Rambles

You're probably getting bored with snow blogs. Still coming down, and a heap expected tomorrow. I sure am grateful that I work at home!

It's summer in the book I'm writing--thank heavens. When I write, I'm right there with the characters, in the thick of things. This is mostly good. I live the story with the characters and that's fine if they're having fun. :) Lots of times, though, they're not. They're getting their hearts broken. They're riding horses between Flagstaff and Stone Creek. They're having major emotional confrontations. I go through all the same things with them, so by the end of the day, I need a glass of wine, horse and/or dog and cat time, and some puttering in my craft room.

Crafting is very theraputic for me. I'm never going to be a great artist, though I do have secret (not anymore) aspirations to have something in a gallery at some point. Since it's either collaging/polymer clay/resin OR a LOT more wine, I continue to haunt Michael's and my favorite websites. Check out www.artchixstudio.com --VERY cool. The resin casting requires the use of a blowtorch--housekeeper/cousin Mary Ann draws the line at me using things that shoot flames, since, 1) I'm a klutz and 2) like most writers, I am always knee-deep in some form of paper!

I don't do things requiring drills or hammers, either--at least, not in the house. Bernice, my Yorkie, freaks out at weird noises.

Time to stop rambling and get back on the trail. Logan and Flannery expected me an hour ago, so they're probably tapping their toes, looking at their watches, and asking, "Where IS that woman?"

It Doesn't Show Signs of Stopping...

And I've got some corn for popping. :)

The snow is still coming down, obviously. A coyote just passed the fence--there he went again! (We interrupt this blog to make a flying trip downstairs and make sure all the dogs are inside.) I'm back--all dogs and cats present and accounted for. The fence is 8 feet high, and built at the top of a fairly steep hillside, but Brother Coyote must never be underestimated. He's a crafty devil. I love all animals, but I have the rancher's aversion to wolves and coyotes.

According to the news reports, the snow will keep on coming at least until Saturday. It's beautiful stuff, and I'm fortunate not to have to commute, so I'm just enjoying it. I will get cabin fever, however, if I can't get out at least every couple of days. Favorite haunts are Wal-Mart, the casino, and Michael's. :) (I'm just a wild woman.)

The resin experiments continue. I read somewhere that if you look at an undertaking as an experiment, instead of making it life-or-death, you're more likely to get into the zone and succeed at what you're doing. Mostly, I've just made a lot of messes, but I keep recalling what this one woman said on one of my craft shows. "I learned to do this right by doing it WRONG a million times." I've got about 999,999 tries ahead of me.

Back to work on the new book. I'm already in love with Logan Creed.

And Still It SNOWS

Today, I'm in the middle of a big snow globe, and Somebody shook it! :) Billions of tiny flakes, each one different! Beyond incredible.

Writing to do today, and then crafting. I'm into resin jewelry right now--learning to put pictures into pendants. My favorite is the one of Dad and me, on his horse Peanuts, taken around 1951. The famous Christmas saddle is in that picture, too.

Isn't it a marvel, what you can do with pictures today, what with digital cameras and scanning machines? WOW. (I do a lot of Lincoln stuff, because of the research, and my family is teasing me about my new line of Civil War jewelry. Big market for THAT. :) But since I don't plan to sell my stuff anyway, so what?)

I just placed a honkin' order for molds and supplies from some outfit on eBay. Waiting to hear back how much the shipping will be. (Folks who know me will tell you that when I get on a kick, it's Nellie-bar-the-door. I go wild.)

Hence, six horses, two dogs and two cats. :)

Good thing I'm not into collecting elephants.

Better Rename This Place...

And call it the Lazy L! I was up half the night, listening to "A Wanted Man" on CD, and didn't even get to this blog until this unGodly hour.

It isn't as if I didn't know how the book ends, for Pete's sake, but I just kept putting in another CD and pushing the 'play' button. I guess it's vanity, but I really enjoy hearing my own words read back to me, by actors and actresses. Go figure. Sadie and Bernice provided the background music--snoring.

Critics.

They're everywhere.

Have a wonderful weekend.

Sunrise

The sun is just about to peek over the eastern hills, beyond the draw. I love this time of the morning, when things are still quiet. We've got snow, with more predicted, and I imagine the horses are starting to stir around out in the barn, looking for breakfast. Sadie is snoring on her pink bed under my printer table, and Bernice is cozied up on my bed. The coffee's on, and I've done my journaling.

Life is good.

I wrote the first chapter of "Logan's Return" yesterday--and I love it. It's going to be great, spending time with the Creeds. Hunks, every one of them, but hunks with hearts. I always fall hard for my heroes, and Logan, I can tell, will be no exception.

I've got some craft projects going--right now, I'm doing "Melt Art". I scanned a picture of the Cartwrights--the original inspiration for my penchant for cowboy brothers :)--and printed it out on t-shirt paper. Later, when I've finished my writing for the day, I'll make a pin by pouring the clear acrylic/wax stuff over the image. It hardens in about a minute, then you peel the back off, and you've got a clear transfer. T-shirt paper works better than regular ink jet--much easier to remove the back. I use a cookie cutter greased with mineral oil to shape the thing. It's messy work, as you can imagine, but it's satisfying, too. I get lots of good ideas when I'm playing with my toys--and you know what happens when I get a good idea!

Push Up Sleeves Time!

As much as I love holidays, I'm always happy when they're over and life returns to normal--as normal as it ever gets around here, anyway!

I'm all fired up to work on the new book in earnest--this is Meg's "kissin' cousin", briefly met at the end of "The McKettrick Way". So this is the start of the new Montana Creeds series, Book 1: "Logan's Return."

I'm big on audio books, so I've been listening a lot lately--mostly research stuff for the Civil War books, but I confess I love to listen to my own stories, read back to me. I'm listening to "A Wanted Man", currently, and recently downloaded "McKettrick's Luck" from Audible.com. I seriously enjoyed the story, and the way the reader performed, but there were a couple of iffy reviews on there, too. Got to admit, that bummed me a little. How can anybody NOT like Jesse McKettrick? You'd have to have anti-freeze in your blood.

OK, enough sour grapes. Writers hate such reviews--it's as if somebody told you your baby was ugly. :)

I'd better push up those sleeves now--but I'll have to dress first. Just between you and me, I'm still in my bathrobe.

Good-bye 07, Hello 08!

My New Year's Eve went pretty much as I predicted, though I was up at midnight, with the family, watching the famous ball drop in Times Square. I didn't expect to be moved by the sight, but I was. All these people, thousands of them, crowded into a few square blocks, yelling out the countdown. And I thought, here, in the city where terrorism struck the hardest, is the proof that hope and confidence in a good future still hold the upper hand. Cowgirl or not, New York is one of my favorite places, and I tell anybody who'll listen how much I admire New Yorkers. They're not unfriendly, gang. They're just busy--going places, doing things.

What can we expect in 2008?

Laughter.
Tears.

Two sides of the same coin. Joy and sorrow.

It's called Life. And we're here to whoop it up, for a long time, or a short one. Every moment is a golden, shining coin. Spend them wisely. And take my dear friend Vicki's advice--live so you'll have no regrets.

Happy New Year, gang.