I am going to do a call-out to Marcel Proust here as inspired by Erica Dreisbach.  Like Proust, my writing is triggered by the smell of food in my kitchen.

I taught Issues in Research which has been the bane of Springfield College students’ academic experiences. I managed to make it fun and considerably lowered their anxiety about the year-long Project saga.

I planted loads of tomato seeds which sprouted successfully into 50 plants. They in turn were transplanted into the garden and terrified me with their prolific bounty.

Speaking of terror and gardens, Craig quadrupled the size of our garden and it turns out to be unbelievably fertile from years of horse poop.

Speaking of poop, I have discovered Poopourri. It’s nice.

I traveled to Los Angeles (visited Malibu) and Chicago. Yes, Dear Readers, you know why.

We hosted a fabulous wedding for Erica and Vlad which melded our Trans-Atlantic families.

I have shepherded my mother through a year of dental,  ophthalmology, family practice, manicure, pedicure and Jitterbug appointments. She is in better shape than when she arrived.

I sang the Carmina Burana or as Craig called it the Carmen Miranda with the North Country Chorus. Also the alpha and omega of that experience.

I was able to hold The Crow yoga pose for less than one second.

I was called to Jury Draw from September through November and was chosen for two trials. Thank heavens, the respective defendants committed to plea agreements. No Jury Duty for me.

Predictions for 2016:

The garden will be doubled.

I will teach an academic Yoga class. (It’s already in the bag.)

I will hold The Crow pose for two seconds.

Hank will not jump on guests.

I will travel to LA , Chicago and Michigan.

I will work towards dual licensure as a Social Worker.

I will not be called to Jury Duty.

Bernie Sanders will secure the Democratic Presidential nomination. A girl can dream can’t she?