Be gone with you 2025. You oversaw the inauguration of a fascist clown—bad idea. And allowed him to harass the entire planet all year long. You should be ashamed.

Not only that, but you forced me to come to terms with the fact that I am old-old and will exit said planet in the next few years. What else…or is that enough to hold against you for now?

To do the final final-wrap then (so I can hurry on to the pleasures of 2026; let’s see…celebrating Mamdani=pleasure/invading another country=feels a little like pain).

Anyway, in my world, the year, 2025, began with me being puny at a glorious wedding on tropical island. But I licked my physical and psychological wounds, so to speak, while traveling about SE Asia with a son—during which, most nights, I read The Dark Valley, an almost too-thorough history of our world during the decade when worldwide fascism took hold and World War 2 began. I obsessively journaled my fear night after night.

Then I returned home and cozily pondered world affairs and my ever-more rapidly approaching demise from my very own couch! Our friendly psychologist at UNM’s Senior Health soon hinted that I was perhaps reaching acceptance…the final stage of grief, right? Grief that the country I thought I knew was disappearing and the universal grief experienced as death approaches.

It turns out the year was passing in a relatively non-threatening way though, at least in my world. Not so true for non-white persons of ‘difference’ in the US, or if one is trying to stay alive in Gaza, Ukraine, Sudan, Congo-Kinshasa, Yemen, Afghanistan, and so many more places.

Me. I was safe. I am safe. Almost ashamedly so.

Autumn 2025. Good times. As already announced, Teresa and Jon will be parents in a couple of months, making me a great-great-grandmother (and I hope, however briefly, to actually be great at the position). Although since I am afraid of babies, this is challenging. Since I have too many pictures of all these good things to share…because that’s what I do, “Last Year,” the post will be divided into two: first friends and family and a lovely cluster of late fall visits. Then, Thanksgiving and end of year holidays.

Although by tomorrow we’ll probably have invaded Greenland and Panama…aren’t they next on the list? At war with Denmark. Doesn’t that sound silly? Well…? Not totally. Not even a good joke is it?

Let my good times roll. During early days at VSA/North Fourth Art Center, I had the good fortune to have three smart and accomplished young women show up for a years’ AmeriCorps service: there were many such young people over the years but these three would become among my most treasured friends. Now, close to 20 years later, they still are. Here in Albuquerque, May (mental health counselor, also married to AmeriCorps staff guy Nils, a physical therapist); there, in Colombia at the moment, Val (consultant, married to a nice guy in the diplomatic service); and elsewhere in Pennsylvania, Jess (theater artist/manager/instructor). I am truly excited when we can visit. They’re still among the smartest, kindest, and funniest people I know.

Val dropped in this fall for a few days which gave us an excuse to talk profound stuff and nonsense with May and Nils. We missed Jess mightily, but made plans to hang out with her sometime in 2026.

More good times with the early October Balloon Fiesta, everyone’s favorite time to visit Albuquerque…even if sometimes the weather turns bad and those magical creations never leave the ground! Like this year for example. Grandchildren, Steven and Ashley were here, hardly noticing the grounded balloons for the pleasure of hanging out with family.

To double the pleasure of no-balloons with plenty of fascinating people (!), two friends from Minnesota came rolling by in their ever-so-slightly unusual camper, sleeping in the driveway but joining us inside for various and sundry pleasures like the fancy bread and butter I serve and showers.

Mary, the mistress of camping and kayaking has written a charming book, The Kayak Lady, a best possible glimpse of life on and around a thousand or so of Minnesota’s 10,000 lakes.

A No Kings march gave us a chance to join our fellow radical-left wing-scum in a show of displeasure with the horror-in-chief.

At the sad end of things, one of my favorite people in the world and a friend of 50 plus year moved away. How is that possible? Friends of that duration should not be allowed to leave the city limits for more than a few weeks at a time, should they?

The good news is it seems we have enough stamina left for a trip or two…oh yeah, and I did inherit some great bookcases. Me and Pollyanna…always looking at the bright side.

Finally, on Last Year #1. A very special event for me. During my years traveling to and in South Africa to see, meet, and invite African artists to North Fourth Art Center, I met a theater artist at the Harare International Festival in Zimbabwe, originally from there, but at the time residing in Cape Town, named Jonathan K. His friend, support, guide, agent, and tour manager, a South African theater artist named Bo, was with him. I found his piece to be well written/acted and presented and we met briefly to talk about the possibility of Jonathan coming to New Mexico. We planned to meet later that year in Cape Town which we did. I had the chance to get to know them both and hear their separate and absolutely fascinating stories. First fast forward, they were part of Global DanceFest in 2010. And Bo was just here in Albuquerque to present her piece…at the famous theater of Teresa & Laurie.

Fast forward again, because the rest of the story will be told in a separate post. While a small part of that will be Jonathan’s, it is Bo’s story I want to dwell on. It’s a tale of South African life, families, politics, and race that could only happen there. Not because it’s worse than everyplace else, but it is story in layers and levels that perhaps are unique to South Africa.

And since South Africa is one of my three favorite countries on the planet, I cannot resist the chance to say more about it. 

‘Last Year’ is winding down. When I return tomorrow, I’ll describe holiday time 2025 and then … Fini!

Sorry, can’t resist a few more words about the current state of American politics. Wish us luck during another night in the land of trump. As the slime ball and his military wreak havoc on the world, and congress cowers in its warren of dank cellars, and the supremes giggle all the way to whatever retreats keep them overfed, drunk, and/or fondling their pretties, we rest secure in the knowledge that the tech-bro world has even more grisly plans for our futures. Gotta love our fine leaders…right? I feel so much better that we’ve moved on to 2026. Ugh…

But to hell with faux-leaders. Here’s Scott and Sandra at the end of 2025 on a boat on the Mekong River (or a tributary thereof) going from Laos to Thailand. They’re doing what we all should be doing. Being out there in the world where and when we can. It’s a spectacular planet along with some of the built environment and some of the people.