I've taken a long break from writing since the baby arrived, but with the new year I'm recommitting to a regular writing practice. I don't plan on writing more than I have time for on any given Sunday, and with a six-month-old at home I suspect I'll rarely have much time, but I am committed to getting thoughts to paper once a week.

The last year has been incredibly busy and eventful, but the next holds the promise of expansion and maturation of plans in motion for years now both professionally and personally and may end up being even more momentous in many ways.

As we enter the third year of the pandemic I can't help but feel hopeful that the vast transformations our society has undergone over the past two years might bear some fruit - as the roaring twenties followed the 1918 flu, might we hope for themes of exuberance and communion for the coming year?

Here's hoping.