2025 in Review

It seems trite to begin an end-of-December post with “I can’t believe it’s the end of December,” but it’s absolutely true. December flew by, as did November, and October, and September, and the summer and spring and, shockingly, winter (February’s Great Snow Confinement being the notable exception). 2025 is indeed a blur in the rearview mirror, and, for once in my life, the spottiness of my memory of it is mostly due to how busy and full it was and not because I spent much of it unconscious or otherwise too neurologically compromised to remember where, or who, I was. It was a year in which I continued coming into my own; a year of travel and discovery but also of settling down and settling in. It was a year of milestones. I went places and did things; I stayed home and made stuff. I came closer to figuring myself out than I have, well, ever. It wasn’t without its challenges—it’s ended, in fact, with a whole series of them, which I’ll blame for why it’s been a while since I’ve managed to crank out one of the many posts in my queue. Yet I’ve managed, and am managing, the minor Christmas health crises and weather-imposed complications that have arisen with reasonable skill and semi-composure, and neither of those two crises have been of my own health. Not that I’m happy that my husband contracted a days-long, super nasty flu on Boxing Day and subsequently slipped on ice, seriously hurting his elbow, the first afternoon he was well enough to leave the house, but it’s a novelty and role reversal not to be the one out of commission, and I’m certainly glad that I’m able to take care of him and of myself when until recently, we’d have been at a total loss. Rather than floundering and wallowing and requiring outside assistance, I figured things out, put new systems in place, and am thus bidding adieu to the year with a relatively clean apartment, enough food in the fridge and cupboards to last weeks, and a surprisingly positive attitude.

Given how long a rehash of the past twelve months would be if I attempted one, and since I’d prefer not to spend the dwindling hours of the year frantically writing, I’ll provide only a quick summary of 2025 in a few numbers and more than a few words.

0: number of ER visits and overnight hospital stays. Keeping that streak alive!

1,016: number of days reached in my Duolingo streak. Not sure if this is impressive or embarrassing. The fact I thought to ask myself that question is pretty good evidence that it’s not something to gloat about.

365: number of days in which I engaged in a counting-related OCD ritual that takes five minutes and is thus a low-priority mental-health issue to tackle but bothers me nonetheless. Is there a connection between my yet-to-be-controlled OCD and that Duolingo streak? Perhaps.

Undisclosed: number of books read. This one is unquestionably embarrassing. I have a theory that once you pass the two-hundred mark, you’d best clam up lest your family and friends consider confiscating your library card. Let’s just say that the final tally is well above that threshold.

4: number of overnight trips taken, including three requiring a round-trip flight. If all goes according to plan, and I’m determined it will, I’m gonna top this in 2026.

1: number of cats adopted. Welcome, Franklin. You annoy me, and I complain about you, but I love you, if only because my husband does.

2: number of imperfect but complete short stories written and edited and tucked in a folder on my desktop entitled “finished stuff.” It was like pulling teeth, and I’ll probably never look at them again, but I did it.

8: number of projects, or fragments of projects, residing in a totally disorganized folder entitled “works in progress.” The enthusiasm and ideas are there; the focus is still lacking.

2: number of times my wheelchair batteries were replaced despite my being neurotic about practicing good battery hygiene. I’ll get into this frustrating saga in a future post.

1,600ish, if my back-of-the-thrift-store-receipt calculations are to be trusted: number of kilometres logged on my power wheelchair. I try not to treat it like an overpriced, oversized Fitbit, but you know I derive great pleasure from seeing the odometer tick up.

5: number of fully functioning human limbs currently in our household. Nine if you remove the “human” and include those belonging to the aforementioned cat.

31: number of garments I sewed, and, related, 9: number of garments I sewed of which I am truly proud and that I wear on a regular basis. Reflecting on that statistic inspired this last figure, 1: number of New Year’s resolutions made. I’m not usually a proponent of them, but this year I’m inspired to set myself the broad goal of continuing to slow it down, focus on the details, and use every project I tackle, whether it involves fabric, words, my brain, or my health, as an opportunity to challenge myself and build skills.

And that’s a wrap, folks. May your 2026 be fulfilling and peaceful, and may we all find grace in our stumbles and revel in our successes, both big and small.