Went down South from Rochester an hour last night (borrowed ride from neighbors I never knew were there) for a New Year's party at a nice old farmhouse in the Finger Lakes. We had a big bonfire, and launched hand-made tissue-paper hot-air balloons (an armspan tall). We had a FARMHOUSE KITCHEN and LIGHT ON TWO SIDES OF A ROOM and OLD PEOPLE EVERYWHERE (I had thought "YOUNG AND OLD TOGETHER" o well) and some good fun and interesting people.

On the bonfire was a box of back issues of New Yorker mgaazine. Said the paterfamilias, over 60, county coroner, beer in hand, "That's a ritual box of New Yorkers. Finally decided to get rid of 'em! You can get it all on CD now." They went up slowly, a page at a time, peeling away in the hot air and then flying off in flame.

The hot air balloon, after it caught fire, came down in the middle of a vineyard and a landing party went out to fetch it. It was a good eve of the new year. I'm not ready to give up 2006, but ready for 2007, for more life, always more.