I've taken several cracks at an official New Year's Entry, but deleted them all. They sounded like the product of a stuffed head, trying vainly to be taken seriously. That's because my head is indeed very stuffed. My older daughter began the holidays with a bronchial virus. The rest of us tried to dodge the proverbial bullet, but in fact there was no bullet to dodge: each sneeze was a blunderbuss fired at critically close range, and no-one was going to escape the viral enfilade.
So Happy New Year, one and all, even though January is one bonehead month to "begin" anything, nevermind a year. So far as I'm concerned, the new year begins in Autumn, in line with the new academic year, or Rosh Hashanah. And I don't bother with resolutions, because my temperament has a resolve of its own. Setting my primary focus, on the other hand, is something I could probably benefit from. More later ... maybe ... if I can clear my head enough to focus.
Below are some odds and sods that I've enjoyed from the year that was.