For those of you far and near, a hug and a toast. We are in our comfortable clothes, Jeff and I, me tapping out words on a keyboard while he tidies the computer room behind me. We have plans for the evening, quiet plans with a new set of friends; with PHE falling shortly after New Year's, this holiday tends to be a calm weekend of preparation for us.It's found me doing everything from replacing burnt-out bulbs in the foyer to doing initial prep work for the PHE bar. I'm best described as living in a state of constant, low-level nervousness and excitement. Buried beneath the prep work and the lists (for I'm indeed in full-fledged list mode) is the knowledge that most of the people I care about in this world are descending on my house in two weeks' time.

Nah, no pressure, really.

For the new year, no promises. I wouldn't even know where to start. I sit here, thinking over where 2006 has taken me, and what looks so obvious and so right in my life now, on December 31, was just one in a set of equally unpredictable possibilities twelve months ago on January 1.

I like to think that twelve months from now I'll be sitting here, writing, a glass of wine and a set of year-older cats at my side, with lists and plans in my head for PHE 2008. The constant panoply of people in my life will, hopefully, have continued. Meiya will have had her little boy. Misty and Ashley will, in succession, have had theirs; at this moment, we don't even know if they're boys or girls.

Years are not zero-sum equations, though. With beginnings come ends; not everyone who starts a year finishes one. It's why we wish those we love a happy new year. It's our way of saying, "I'm glad you're still here with me."

Happy new year, from the webmaster-librarian, the engineer, and the two very large cats. May it find you well, and find you happy.