Eve

The reins of reigning rain, this time in the form of freezing fog, prevents much safe travel in these parts this morning.

The rooster crows to a cloud-covered dawn.
"Bugger off!" I say to him, clutching vainly to the departing dreams of an old year.
Even though it is tempting to spend the day drinking martinis, sitting in front of the fire, eating peanuts in the shell and reading romances, there are these new ideas floating around yet to be put into form, whispy tendrils brushing up against the canvas to be painted, viewed and spotlighted.  One more day.