My blue sky was waiting for me when I got up, although I had to run outside without any clothes on, as the sun quickly disappeared behind a big cloud. It’s warmer than a week ago, for sure.

I’m not deeply into the New Year’s holiday as a symbol of redemption and resurrection. But I do like to think about what I would like to see happen in my life in the New Year.

The truth was surprising to me. I don’t want much of anything that I don’t have, and I don’t need anything that I don’t have.

What I want is simple; I avoid grandiose declarations of goals and purpose. Promises should be kept.

It’s easy to boast about what you want to do; it’s much harder to do. You learn this when you get older. You generally don’t know it when you are young.

What I want in 2023 is pretty much the same thing I  wanted in 2022. I want to be with Maria, here on the farm. I want to write on my blog as often as possible, which is just about every day. I want to support the refugee children at Bishop Gibbons. And the residents of the Mansion. I want to be a better father and grandfather, even if I don’t know what that means.

I hope to deepen some of the friendships I’ve started to make.

I have one wish: I wish for a kindler, gentler country where we learn to love and care for each other, not hate and divide.

I want to write better posts, take better pictures, and be a better husband. I like my life and want to stay me, just an upgraded and better human. It’s like taking the car into the shop. If you are faithful to it, you have a car that lasts a long time and runs well. There are worse analogies, but I can’t think of one.

I want to be me in 2023. Just a better me. That’s all I want, all I hope for, and all I can do.

Maria and dog.