I discover what I did all last year in assembling the numbers to send to my friendly local accountant so he can get the IRS to send me money. I did not remember buying a camcorder -- really I didn't. I had forgotten about that trip to Napa Valley and the seventy dollar bottle of wine that seemed like such a good idea at the time. Though I did get a poem out of it. I have made no New Year's resolutions because I have been too fascinated finding out what I actually did in 2006 via the paper-trail I have left in Quicken. It's better than a journal.

Oh, and here are the opening lines of the poem:

A lot to learn from a fig tree.
That any tiny winged thing
may explode from you without warning.
That you can’t have too many
green hands to widen your summer evening ...