Perhaps in no little part due to my hammered-up lower jaw, I let the holidays simply unroll (albeit with some effort before).
Here’s a scruffy shot of my brother cooking Christmas dinner, while I shiver, and we talk about Marx’s assertion that people make their own history but not in self-selected circumstances, family camping trips and the collapse of the American Empire.
Afterwards, he hung up his beer cans on the line with clothespins. That’s some quality family time.
Winter solitude —
in a world of one color
the sound of wind.
— Basho
Stony Soil Vermont 
Speaking of collapses I always harken to Tyler’s Cycle of Empires: Bondage-Spiritual Faith-Great Courage-Liberty-Abundance-Selfishness-Complacency-Apathy-Dependency-Bondage. Wash, rinse, repeat every 300-500 years or so. Of course, the debate is always where in the cycle your civilization is. Sadly in this nuclear age one can only hope there are enough current and future Arkhipovs who will prevent the selfishness from becoming nuclear. GT
Well said….
I want to meet your brother.
That would be an interesting meeting.