The year 2022 is about to come to an end.
With it today we learn of the deaths of Benedict, the retired pope, and of Barbara Walters, the American television personality.
Once again the day is dark and dreary with fog.
It is fitting as we say goodbye to the old "twelve months" that the weather conjures up the words of Edgar Allan Poe in "The Raven" or the mood in the novel "The Hound of the Baskervilles" by Arthur Conan Doyle.
I can almost see Sherlock Holmes and his confrère Dr. Watson pursuing the hound over the moors.
But that's for another time.
I shall take these few moments to thank all of my "elves", as someone put it recently, who supply me with the humor that keeps us all entertained.
They know who they are so I shall not name them here.
And I want to thank all of you readers who have tarried here, whether commenting or not.
I wish you all the most splendid days ahead as we turn the calendar page one more time and greet a new year with hope and great anticipation.
But hark! What is that baying sound I hear echoing?
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