That's the phrase everyone uses, but I don't get it. Like a music box running out of steam? Like a wind-up toy slowly stuttering to a stop. Both would mean that the year slows down. . .
It always feels to me like the year is unspooling, rushing to a close, like a thread bobbin on a sewing machine, wobbling and jittering as it spins madly with the thread rushing away. It flies past faster and faster each day until the year just flies away.
So, I'm going to try to write a post a day here until the end of 2011. It was--and continues to be--a pretty terrible year. But good things happened in there--good books, good music, good food, fun with friends, good art--and so I'm going to do a little wrap up on those things to salvage what's left of this junky calendar year, before it floats off into history.
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