"Baby New Year" only nine days old, not even potty trained, limps  already.  The weather, the flu, the French terrorism, the Republicans. 


Snorfling, shivering and sputtering, I'm waiting out the weather and the flu.  The Republicans, newly empowered, are not a healthy subject for me.  I'm not a good sport about any of this.  Not taking it with a grain of salt.  In fact  I'm a little crabby.  [Okay, a lot crabby.]  My cup is definitely half empty!   I'm the wicked witch of pessism. [Is there such a word?]


But wait, not far from the slow lane, a small girl survives a plane crash.  Through spooky night woods in frigid weather, she trudges barefooted an hour before finding help.  Now I ask you, how dare an old lady wallow and wail after hearing  Sailor's story? 


Perhaps Sailor is the spirit of "Baby New Year" promising survival and redemption. 

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