Happy New Year 2026 Edition

On New Year's Day 2025, I posted a picture along with my Happy New Year's Greeting (for reasons unknown to me, I did not do the same in 2025.  A failure on my part).  As it turns out - perhaps accidentally - that picture became a leitmotif for my year.

Which made me think:  if I were to set a theme for 2026, what would I like it to be?

Setting a theme is always something of a risk of course:  there are 365 days to run and, given my recent history, who knows what happens in that time.  But setting a theme can be quite different from what occurs during the year.  I cannot control the events, but I can control how I approach them.

This -  a repost from May of last year - is something that, a bit in conjunction with writing on Humility last year, I have come to see that I need work harder on. And not just writing on Humility; general discourse and interaction - even more so than I can remember - has devolved into "my-sideism" everywhere.  My realization last year that this was the "Age of Rage" does not seem to have abated at all.

And that is my hope, my intention - for me, for everyone I interact with, hopefully everyone that reads this.  To make this a year of being a good human being.

After all, I hear the opportunities to move up in the field are almost without limit.  And there remains very little competition of speak of.

Thank You: 2025 Edition

Dear Friends:

Continuing in what seems to be a tradition since 2020, I save the last post of the year to thank you, my readers.

This year was far less predictable and far more unexpected than I could have anticipated.  

Even though I "claim" to be a homebody, I somehow managed to go to seven countries and five states this year.  I completed my first full year and set of seasons in New Home 2.0, got promoted, got some very needed personal feedback which - although in theory about Iai - was really about life, hiked in the Grand Canyon, lead a small group for the first time in over 15 years, performed publicly on the harp for the first time in 30 years, attended three Iaijutsu seminars, and managed to grow peppers.

This year also saw a final (and heretofore) unexpected turn at The Ranch, the final relocation of The Ravishing Mrs. TB, and the arrival of A the Cat.  And, I got a new car.

It has been a bit of a year.

I have commented before that writing a blog is for me a form of therapy. In meaningful ways, I am more "myself" here than I am in the real world.  And yet, while this literary therapy is useful in and of itself, it helps to have company.

In other words, writers write to have others read their work.

And so, my annual grateful thanks to you, my readers.

Thank you for the gift of your time and interest, the two greatest gifts one person can give to another.  Thank you for your comments, no matter if you only ever comment once.  Thank you for your thoughts and inputs and sometimes helping me to clarify my own thinking.

I have no idea what 2026 will look like, or even what I will write about.  While I am overall happy with the programming I set up for myself last year in terms of days and what to write on, I do not know that everything I was writing was as fresh at the end of the year as it was at the beginning and pushed me as a writer in the ways I need to be pushed.

Thanks as always for your support.

Your Most Obedient Servant,

Toirdhealbheach Beucail

Our Real Work And Our Real Journey

I confess that I do not know as much Wendell Berry as I should.  That strikes me as a bit of shame, as the works of his that I have read (The Gift of Good Land, The Long-Legged House, The Unsettling of America) has resonated with me when I have read them.  I have not read his fiction, of which it seems there is nothing but good things written (Gene Logsdon spoke highly of him).

Berry can haunt me, the way that Gene Logsdon does when I read him, a combination of life as it is, a sort of wistful remembering of life as it was, an adaptation to life as it is, and a hopeful belief in live as it could be.  It is the sort of combination that very much seems at odds with so much of what pass for information exchange, entertainment, and knowledge in the modern world.  Too often only one of those things is mentioned or perhaps two, all with the strident clarion of an ill-tuned trumpet rather than the careful plucking of a harmony on strings.

---

I have to confess that here, at the end of 2025, I feel a bit lost, looking for that harmony.

There are multiple contributory parts; there always are of course, at last for the big problems.  One, rather simply, is that with the eventual pending sale of The Ranch and the effective relocation to New Home 2.0, there is a very odd sense of not having a "home" like I have in years past.  Home was as much of a geographic location as it was a place that my people were; now, for the first time, it is very much a nomadic concept based almost entirely on people who themselves are prone to move.

Another factor is simply the changing roles of life.  I remain a son, but in the remnant of my parents' existence, not an active role.  I remain a family member to an extended family that is moving farther apart as time goes on.  In my close family, I hold the role of father although in an advisory role instead of a parenting role - the same role, as it turns out, as in my job, where I give advice and experience with the tacit acknowledgement that this role could very well be my last one.

In my activities, I have the sudden realization that old things that I used to enjoy are just as enjoyable as they ever were, combined with the finite sense that there is only so much that I can do in a day, a week, a month, a year.  And that, like it or not, choices now have to made in some cases.

God?  Yes and no.  No, in the sense that this place, this church that we now attend, is one that I am meant to be at.  Yes in the sense that I do not know where my role is meant to be.

Even my writing, of late, has seemed more of a chore than a genuine pleasure.  It is not that there are not things to write about; perhaps it is simply that finding things to write about that are non-controversial becomes harder and harder.

Last perhaps, is simply my relationship with the the larger social and political world.  I find now, almost daily, that I truly belong nowhere and to no belief.  I often find myself in disagreement with one side, yet now more and more find myself in disagreement with the other.  There is a harsh rancor which fills too much of almost everything, print and video and audio. The edge in people's voices, whether verbal or written, becomes more evident almost daily.  

Berry's words ring true to me.

---

There is a sense - originally quiet, but growing louder as time goes on - that I am a turning a corner into 2026, a corner that has taken almost two years to manifest itself.

To use a hiking analogy, I have the equipment, I have a guide - but I have no known destination and no idea of what I will do along the way or when I arrive.  To be clear, that is a terrible way to hike. 

Strangely enough, this does not bother me as much as I might think that it would.

In some ways, the world is filled with possibilities again, the sorts of possibilities that have not appeared since maybe I was in college and "the future" was something to be defined, not a track that I had stumbled into and could now not escape due to the multitude of invisible threads that tied me to it.  There is a sense in which, for the first time in a long time, I can "choose".

And perhaps, as Berry suggests, I have finally arrived at my real work and real journey.  

What a remarkable thing, to in some ways be starting over.

December 2025 Grab Bag

 Welcome to the last 2025 Grab Bag Update!

(Source)

---

Some time this month I crept over into the "3,000,000" view category.  I put that number is quotes; it was only in July of this year that we surpassed 2,000,000 and a little over two years (October of 2023) since I hit 1,000,000.  

All of this proving, yet again, that there are liars, d*mn liars, and statistics.  

The daily count in the 24 hour period follow a post is a much more accurate view, I suspect.  While not nothing, it scarcely the 2,740 individual viewers that it would need to be for that to be a real number.

To all the real people, thank you.  To all the bots, maybe some of this will get pulled up into AI and propagated in some future scenario.  The idea of a computer trying to grapple with everything going on in my head gives me a hearty chuckle.

---

We flew back to New Home for Christmas.  We had a very enjoyable time over four days (almost precisely on the mark:  we got up to leave at 0300 on 24 December and went to bed at 0230 28 December); besides all of Na Clann being present, we also had The Fiancé as well as his mother and younger sister.  Other than a slight issue with stockings (two people had the same individual for stockings, but it all worked out), a good time was had by all.  I received a combination of the needed and the unexpected, which is always a good thing.

Dinner was a turkey smoked by The Fiancé with cheesy potatoes, green beans, cheesy broccoli and cauliflower, and homemade sourdough bread.  It was delicious (especially the Turkey; I cannot recall having freshly smoked turkey before). 

One interesting change was for the first time either, neither I nor The Ravishing Mrs. TB really had a role in Christmas Day.  She helped with some of the food preparation and I passed out gifts (my traditional role), but that was really it.  The torch, apparently, has passed.

Other than a couple of shopping trips for post-Christmas items and a hunt through the storage locker (with the inevitable questions of "Do we need this stuff if we have been the last year without it?"), we did little but visit. We did meet Nighean Dhonn's boyfriend.  Nice young man: Environmental Engineer, fences (the sword kind) and is in the beekeeping club along with Nighean Dhonn.  Called me "sir".  Seems like a likeable enough young man.

As my mother always reminded TB The Elder, "Be nice to all the boyfriends. One of them may end up being your son-in-law".

I will likely not be back to New Home before June for an Iaijutsu seminar.  Which is fine.  Although we do enjoy seeing the girls, both The Ravishing Mrs. TB and I both commented that it does not quite feel like home anymore, just a place that we used to live.

Life, as they say, moves on.

---

The harp playing at church went better than expected.

I realized as I prepared for this that I had not actually played in public for something like 30 years.  That is a little nerve wracking if you think about it, so I gave myself a test run at work on Friday playing in our lobby.  I wanted to test moving my harp, setting up, and playing with people watching, ambient noise, and the inevitable questions.  It was remarkably well received, cementing me in the mythos of my site as the man who seems to be able to do a great many things. 

The playing Sunday was equally as successful.  Although I was covered by a microphone at the soundbox, what I had not counted on fully was the amount of ambient noise going on around me.  I was a pleasant background (apparently), but my missed notes and resets went completely unnoticed in the scheme of things.

In other words, I stressed too much over perfection.  Fortunately that particular issue has never, ever come up before (ever).

This was a good experience and reminded me of how much I love playing (and performing).  I need to make an effort to keep this up.

---

Our weather here in New Home 2.0 has been wet.  Endlessly wet.  This is The Ravishing Mrs. TB's first full Winter here and it is quite an adjustment. People she has met from the social groups that she is trying out have let her know the first year is awful, the second year is less bad, and then you just learn to move on.  Or as someone advised me when I came, "The weather will be what it is.  Get the gear and get out and do the things."

The price for 8 months of useable weather seems to be 4 months of less than desirable weather.

On the "bright" side, we have also entered the true season of cold.  "Wintry Mix" is currently predicted for this Friday and Saturday.

Any and all comparisons to the weather being in the high 70's/low 80's during our visit to New Home should be regarded as an interesting fact point in a larger discussion of "weather".

---

This year's book count is just about done.  Counting those volumes that are daily readings and will finish with the end of the year, I read 125 books this year - which appears to be a new record since I started tracking this in 2014.  Over 50% were books I read for the first time.  I do think having the library card also spurred some of that, although I need to get back to borrowing the books instead of reading them on a screen (I spend enough time on a screen).

For the first time in a very long time, I am entering the New Year with no books in-flight and only a single book on my "to-read" list.  My goal this year is to revisit books I own; given that I think have something like 800 books in my personal "library", that should still fill the year.

---

I have made a few catch up pages,

Thunder Falls is now a page with all entries, as is A Year Of Humility.  I also realized that my series on The Prodigal Son and our trip in 2021 to Costa Rica were not there, so they have been added.  The Collapse is caught up as well.

I need to remember to get these series on pages. Easier for you, the reader - and easier for me when I want to review things.

A Year Of Humility (LI): Final Thoughts

(Source)

Thanks for coming along with me on A Year of Humility.

Originally, this was a project largely brought out of a series of quotes that appeared in my social media feed.  The quotes eventually seemed to disappear, which I am grateful for:  it forced me to consider other aspects of humility that I might not have considered otherwise.

I suppose it has been sort of a leitmotif for Christianity for 2,000 years that we are badly in need of humility. The humility of Christ - the Son of God, descending from Heaven to become flesh and serve and die for His creation (specifically us) - should never cease to amaze and astound us.

Sadly, too often it seems to fail to inspire us.

If I have been made aware of anything this year, it is how much that humility which the world needs to see, which the Church Universal should demonstrate, is missing.  I cannot fix the Church directly; I can only fix myself.

Is there a "limit" to humility, a point at which one has become too humble?  I guess in theory it is possible, although I cannot imagine what that limit would be; few there are that might be accused of being humble to the point of it being a detriment.  And per Moses the Ethiopian above, humility may be the one thing we can outperform the Evil One in.

I close this year with the quote I read from C.S. Lewis so many years ago (and quoted at least once during this series) that sent me long ago down this path of consideration of humility:

"Do not imagine that if you meet a really humble person he will be what most people call 'humble' nowadays: he will not be a sort of greasy, smarmy person, who is always telling you that, of course, he is nobody.  Probably all you will think of him is that he seemed a cheerful, intelligent chap who took a real interest in what you said to him.  If you do dislike him it will be because you feel a little envious of anyone who seems to enjoy life so easily.  He will not be thinking about humility; he will not be thinking about himself at all.

If anyone would like to acquire humility, I can, I think, tell him the first step.  The first step is to realize one is proud.  And a biggish step, too.  At least, nothing whatever can be done before it.  If you think you are not conceited, you are very conceited indeed."

2025 Grand Canyon Thunder River: The Final Roar

Friends - Thank you for coming along with me on this hike in the Grand Canyon. I hope you enjoyed our hike together.

One of the things I have realized with this particular series is that my commentary was rather brief.  That is a bit by design:  in this case, the Canyon can speak well enough for itself.  My commentary would be superfluous in many cases.

That said, this trip was not entirely devoid of epiphanies and revelations.  I can think of at least three.

The first happened at below, at Thunder Falls, and was replicated at Deer Creek Falls.  In both cases I remember looking with awe upon my surroundings. It then occurred to me that I could see my surroundings because I had come to see them. I had made the effort.  I had hiked down.  Nature, and life I suddenly realized, would indeed reward you.  

The lesson?  You have to pay the price - in this case, walking step by step into the Canyon.  In life, as Orison Swett Marden noted in An Iron Will, "...success is the child of drudgery and perseverance.  It cannot be coaxed or bribed:  pay the price, and it is yours."

The second realization came from one of our fellow hikers.

One of the gentleman from Pennsylvania (Trail name Pepsi) celebrated an early 70's birthday on the trail.  He was working his way towards completing the Appalachian trail (in sections) and was very close to finishing.  He had been coming to the Grand Canyon for over 50 years.  He was also, as it turns out, a writer.

At one point in the hike he related that he had been in a job 10 years prior where, due to politics, he was overlooked for a position.  He got angry enough to retire.  "Best decision I ever made" were his precise words.  He now fills his time with hiking, running, writing (and reading; all good writers are readers) and golf (which, he confessed, was not his favourite but enjoyed by his wife).

The lesson: Do not let doing something that does not thrill you get in the way of living a life that does.

The last lesson was really was an output of the hike as a whole.

During the hike, one is divorced from one's day to day existence.  E-mails, texts, the news, really the world - it all just disappears.  One's life becomes reduced to one's companions, the pack on one's back, and putting one's foot in front of the other.  Meals become celebrations, water in desert places become not just a point of beauty but a reason to celebrate. Hiking confronts you with endless beauty and challenge in a way that is not confined to a keyboard or a meeting (in my case), and the chance to really, truly, disconnect.

The lesson? Really more of a giant question: What are spending your life on? And does it really matter in the long run?  Does it make the world better?  Does it make you better?

Hiking is an odd combination of a shared activity done together which is always experienced by the individual. We hike together, yet every one of us experiences the trail in a different way. We all walk away with both the same and different experiences, the same and different stories to tell.

And that, as they say, is a beautiful thing.

What about the next hike?  Well, like any good hikers we started planning as soon as we got home.  Next year will be a return to Mt. Whitney (the highest peak in the contiguous 48 states at 14,505 ft.) which I hiked in 2022.  Besides The Outdoorsman and The Brit, Nighean Bhan's fiancé will be joining us (for which, I suppose, I shall have to find a better name). 

The trail, as they say, calls - and I must answer.

2025 Grand Canyon Thunder River (XI): Esplanade To The Trailhead

Today was (perhaps unsurprisingly) another early start, the goal being to get out before the heat hit too hard.  We also had enough water, but no sense in tempting Fate.

The breakfast on the last day of the hike is usually a combination of whatever is left - in this case, peanut butter, jelly, and honey tortillas and coffee.

All too soon the sun arrived.  At this point it was us versus the sun rising over the Canyon Rim.

Gong up, although a bit steep, was certainly better than the descent going down - no falling on my behind this time!

Monument Point to gauge how far we have come.

An example of the trail and looking down. 

Almost "even" with Monument Point!

Another steeper part of the trail and one where we had transit packs going down.  Coming up was easier (but I still needed a hand).

The Canyon Rim!

Our Final time on the trail was just about 3 hours.  We ascended 1600 feet and walked three miles.

To the Victors, of course, go the spoils. My go-to reward for completing a hike:  a vanilla milkshake.