2019?

So our New Years came about like you might expect. Tess and I were both in a miserable funk, a cold that we picked up or incubated in San Diago over Xmas. Tissues and ibuprofen were consumed in quantity, and I spent the last night of 2018 coughing, sneezing and ducking for cover each and every time one of our neighbors launched a salvo from his vast surplus of leftover Independence Day rockets.

Despite my reluctance, this year is upon me; the outstanding questing of the season is inevitable “...