It was a chilly 6°F with a significant covering of snow this morning when I very briefly took the dog out. Now propped up in bed, wearing an old tie-dye sweatshirt from a local store that no longer exists, with a cold I just can’t seem to shake, it seems as good a time as any to open the laptop and sum up 2025.

This past year-in-blog began with significant snow covering and an ice storm that created a glass-encrusted fairyland.

I had shared a glimpse of books-to-be-read stacked up on my nightstand. Comparing what is on the nightstand now, it appears I’ve only finished two of those books and three of them are partially completed.

They have been swapped out for a few new intentional reads, which are also sitting there waiting for me. I hadn’t noticed but they all, save one, happened to focus on women. Women of the Catskills. When Women Were Birds. The Life and Times of Janis Joplin. That doesn’t mean I haven’t been reading books (many recommended by friends) borrowed from the library on my Kindle – those have been devoured as soon as my number on the library waitlists have come up. Since those have a borrowing time limit, my own stack has mostly remained stagnant. This one just became available last night so it will be the last book of the year. I know nothing about it at the moment but am hoping for a satisfying read.

Over 2025 there were very few rants, perhaps the most benign concerning the price of eggs and some drivers flipping the bird. But my one big one was arduous – a major tirade towards the network CNN and their lack of accurate closed-captioning of pre-recorded shows, which they refused to remedy despite having to respond to the FCC about it. The post probably went on waaaay too long and would be more of interest to people who don’t hear well and deal with this kind of discrimination. But it was also a statement concerning the disregard of adequate accommodations for people with disabilities. It was frustrating and rather futile – like fighting windmills. In my disgust I have stopped watching CNN altogether. So have many people I know, but for different reasons.

I also posted somebody’s essay that touched on the struggle and grief of hearing loss pretty well. I wish hearing people who hang out with those who struggle to hear would read it and get a glimpse toward really understanding.

Speaking of ears, there were a few posts that featured the Earworm of the Day this past year. Maybe four times? I can’t help it, sometimes when thinking of something, a song pops in and it becomes kind of a theme. Sometimes the theme can last for days. And days. And days. I have one going on now….

Birds! We had birds! A few appearances of a beautiful Barred Owl was probably the most exciting.

We heralded the cheery spring appearance of the Robins, laughed about a couple of Turkeys investigating a decoy, enjoyed the chatter of Chickadees, the calls of the Northern Cardinals, Tufted Titmice, and Woodpeckers, noted that very few crows returned to The Crow Tree this year. The Crow Tree lost some of its uppermost perches.

A House Finch slipped inside the door, creating a little chaos until it was safely cornered and set free.

Also noted was the roving gang of House Sparrows that take over the neighborhood, porches and bird feeders year round. There was a nest of Barn Swallow fledglings with their clown-like faces, crowding each other for room and just waiting to take off, a flock of Mourning Doves uncharacteristically huddled together in the driveway, and the song of the Carolina Wren in the morning. Then the Juncos arrived, officially announcing winter.

Some funny observances, situations and random thoughts were shared this year. Walking around with fallen red pollen that looked like dead tadpoles stuck all over my hair and not knowing it. Bad hair days in general.

Or this pickup truck parked next to me that had the image of the Queen of England in the back seat, which made me laugh.

There were a few rambling discussions touching on some esoteric subjects, weird events, and even moments of introspection. Chickens that eat chicken. The meaning of 11:11- is it woo-woo or something else? Thoughts and observations on Rain. An internet purchase gone rogue. Life as a mosquito magnet and my useless bug zapper. Ending the tradition of having a Christmas tree.

A couple of useful “how-to” suggestions were imparted. How to make ant bait. How to stop the buckles of your overalls from banging around in the dryer. They both worked.

Once again there was some Unexpected Random Art. The brief carnival thrill of Carwash Art

and the beautiful, ever-changing Bathroom Window Ice designs.

Being of a Certain Age, some recollections came up in the guise of youthful folly flashbacks circa1970’s. A memorable character called Uncle Moustache

and My Worst Grateful Dead Show with the accompanying trip that went a little bit sideways.

The heavens provided three full super moons in a row, northern lights (if you were lucky enough to catch them) and two total lunar eclipses, one of which was easily viewed from this location. Some of the sunsets were spectacular. I love intense weather and crazy skies. Weather is never a boring subject for me. Hurricanes, tornados and wildfires all came under discussion here this year.

Wildlife! A splooting, pregnant squirrel. A squirrel with a sandwich! A Poplar Sphinx Moth and a toad with its secret hiding place, both found by a grandchild, and all the wonder attached to that. A persistent, territorial Cicada Wasp. Yet another bat flying around the house. Monarchs alighting on the Milkweed and Mating Milkweed Beetles. The encroachment of Spotted Lantern Flies. Jellyfish, sand crabs, and a connective encounter with an octopus.

Throughout the year I shared our neighbor’s green Brontosaurus fashionista that is draped over their front fence. I refer to it as the Fence Dinosaur, although I would not be surprised if they had an actual name for it. It is pretty much just some childish whimsy noticed while walking past their yard daily with the dog. They update its clothing about every month, with a theme to the season. I admit that along with the kids in the vicinity, I began to look forward to what outfit they will come up with next. I’ve noticed that Dino is looking a lot worse for wear lately, so this event might not be lasting much longer.

As always, food has been an ongoing theme. I’ve mentioned the multiple and varied kinds of Dutch Baby (German pancakes) that are made about every Sunday morning. Strawberry/Pear/Vanilla. Peach/Blueberry. Raspberry/Walnut/cinnamon. Apple/blackberry/hazelnut. The options are varied and plentiful. I’m having a lot of fun experimenting with them. After receiving a gift box of assorted condiments meant just for this purpose, my plan is to elevate the Dutch Baby to new heights and explore new horizons. I’m thinking perhaps mandarin/pistachio/cardamom for next week, although I’m not sure how orange might work – but it’s worth trying it out. Also I’m thinking of playing around with crystallized ginger/apple at some point.

Some of the mentioned meals and indulgences for 2025: Caprese salad, cold spicy peanut Asian noodles, Beer Battered Fried Sage Leaves , watermelon feta mint salad, Spicy Peanut Pumpkin Soup, Pear-Cranberry Relish, Purple Yam Mille Crepes Cake, homemade Pesto, purple potatoes with butter and Habanero salt, Brown-Butter Orzo with Butternut Squash, and Curry Shrimp and Sweet Potato, Polenta con Fungi e Fiche. lots of iced and hot matcha tea, and a significant run of licorice spice tea. Probably not mentioned in the blog would be Scampi, different kinds of quinoa salads, a tomatoe/garlic/farro dish and a few more that regularly enter the rotation. Also an easy recipe for Amaretti cookies suitable for those who don’t bake.

As we wind down here it is necessary to mention the abundance and beauty of the flowers on, off, and surrounding The Urban Porch and neighborhood. Due to Weird Weather there was not much expectation, and yet the parade of flowers did follow through, if not by their usual timetable. There was a gorgeous show of purples that warranted their own post.

Standing beneath a majestic Wisteria felt like being in a magic castle.

Late spring brought forth hovering white petals.

Late summer supplied the golds.

The Urban Porch was a messy mass of exploding growth until it tipped into the unmanageable.

If you like flowers, taking a stroll back into this year of 2025 posts will provide some treats. There is a plethora of flora from both the U.S. east and west coasts to enjoy. My plan for the upcoming year is to cut back on a lot of the gardening. It has been happening little by little. I just don’t have the energy to keep it going.

As always, The Urban Porch has provided theater seating to a stage of ever-changing blooms, wildlife, weather and a flow of humanity stopping or passing by. And even a homecoming parade.

Last week’s post touched on the annual holiday “passing of the panettone.” As nobody else would eat it, my sister ended up once again purchasing a small one for herself, partially out of loyalty, or guilt, or perhaps an ode to the tradition regarding memories of our mother (who always made a fuss about the panettone and could not understand why we didn’t want one). She confessed to me that it was okay but she didn’t especially love panettone. I am guessing if she didn’t get one each year she might feel like something was missing.

Where we left off last post was when my neighbor was gifted a beautiful and no doubt expensive one, but as she was not a fan she asked if I would like it. After I politely declined she then decided to bring it to the holiday dinner at her daughter’s home. However, it never made it that far, because while she was away at work her very naughty dog Ramona climbed up onto the table and took the still wrapped panettone. She did not manage to eat all of it, but enough. At that point it was no longer gift-worthy. According to my friend, it turns out that particular panettone ironically ended up being moist and tastier than other panettones she has encountered. When she told me this, for some reason I couldn’t stop laughing. When I told my sisters, they also started laughing. I think there is something about the word and image of “panettone” that sets me off every time. It has got to be a family thing, I can’t explain it. Here is the guilty party:

To sum up on the ongoing Dot Game habit/streak – as of this post it is up to 761 consecutive days. I have no goals, although there is now a barely perceptible pressure to remember to do it. We will see if I forget to complete it .and blow the whole thing.

The last post of 2025 birds to to share – this rather seasonal picture of my friend’s Muscovy ducks, who were gathered by the side of the pond, white on white with their bright red faces and yellow feet in contrast.

Things I might have alluded to but probably have not written over the past year – a mostly marked absence of politics. I have very strong feelings which greatly differ from a few relatives and friends, people who I love but strongly disagree with. It’s difficult enough trying to keep it to myself when among them. I’ve decided this place on a public blog is not where I want to drop those opinions. There is enough of it out there already.

As we age we might relax about some issues. I would say there is definitely an “I don’t give a crap” attitude that seems to have awakened roughly upon turning fifty. But radical transformation in ourselves is usually not the norm and expecting it in others is a waste of time. Essentially people don’t change all that much and although we can mellow out about some points, the older we get, the core of who we are becomes even more so. I am what I am, you are what you are….

It is hard to believe it is the fifteen years mark of writing this blog. That’s like a job. Or a relationship! Over time there has been a surge of interest and disinterest here and there, with a marked falling away as the years have moved on. With media platforms like Substack, it seems sitting here with my little blog on WordPress, one that does not have all the whistles and bells (mostly because I do not pay for those options), has become somewhat limited. Since I write for myself it really doesn’t matter that much, but the occasional feedback has been enough of a prompt to keep it up when I wander away from it.

Fifteen years ago you might say I was still teetering on what could be (with a slight stretch) considered middle age, but at this point there is no denying a firm entrenchment into seniorhood. Although I feel young in my head, it is still writing from a senior’s point of view. Boomer memories. Conversations with friends that always include a mention of everyone’s aches and pains and surgeries. Deaths of people you know or once knew. I think that might slant the demographics of readership a bit. It seems lately so many of the hits I get on this site are from a wide variety of foreign countries, which is puzzling. I’m not sure if they are actually reading my content or looking at the pictures. Or perhaps someone is stealing them – who knows?

Sometimes I am surprised I am still here, just a little lost voice generating bytes of random flotsam into the winds of cyberspace. At times I think maybe it is time to stop and just concede it has been a good run. And then some weird thought runs through my head, some indignity pisses me off, or I might come across an incredibly vibrant, vermillion flower that I want to share. I might be overtaken by a massive swarm of dragonflies while sitting on a beach. Or just when I am feeling crushed and overwhelmed by life, my little dog Rudi sits next to me, looks directly into my eyes and touches his paw to my heart. It is moments like these which compel me to jot down the “wow” of it all.

So here we are on this turning wheel. Wishing everyone the discovery of small wonders and joys hidden in unexpected places. Onward. Forward! I’ll leave the year end Earworm of the Day here:

The wheel is turning and you can’t slow down,
You can’t let go and you can’t hold on,
You can’t go back and you can’t stand still,
If the thunder don’t get you then the lightning will.

~*~

*”The Wheel” – written by Jerry Garcia and Robert Hunter, first recorded on Garcia (1972)