It’s a new year, new day, new me I suppose. Strangely, a lot of holidays this past year have felt so blasé, right? In the past, neighbors have decked their halls and houses and such. This year felt quiet. 2025 was honestly something of a haze. Great things happened, I’m sure, but it felt like so many big bad wolves were clambering around every corner. I keep wondering, how are people handling their world lately? That’s what we have. Our little worlds. Our bubbles. Our towns, our cities, our groups. Groups of friends. Groups of families. Knitting groups. But sometimes all these bubbles are just fluttering in the air, aimlessly wandering through the world without the slightest inclination of all these other bubbles being up here with them, bubbling about. Or maybe more like bumbling. I don’t want anybody’s bubble to pop. I just wonder what it’d be like if all these bubbles started to coalesce. How chaotic would that be? Chaos can be fun sometimes. After all chaotically-good is probably my very favorite alignment. I guess what I mean to say is that I hope bubbles coalesce this year into something shimmery and new and exciting and beautiful.