Another year.

Ah, it is January. Another year. It seems like yesterday I’d stepped into 2022 with vigour. It’s that time of the year again – Hockey World Cup is here. My city is agog with hockey fervour which I’ll be following from the comfort of my bed. I like to be in the thick of things only when it suits me. “It will be too crowded” is my excuse to avoid most things but I’d have liked to catch a few of my favourite artists perform live.

The new year started with a bang for me (whimper really). I sprained my ankle and tore my ligament but I didn’t fracture my bones (I’ll keep looking for silver linings until I find them). Like the next person I’d rather not wear the crepe bandage but I do know it’s better than wearing a cast, so lesser evil it is. As an adult you learn to deal with terrible flashbacks from the past with equanimity. (Alright, not running away screaming is enough.) I have family around to take care of me so I’m grateful, and try not to be too glum about how 2023 began. Being laid up in bed with a ligament tear isn’t a good thing but it is what it is. I did want to slow down and take a break to read, and think about “things that matter” but never could have imagined it would be handed to me in this fashion.