I heard this a lot as a child, my mother said it all the time, so often that how could it have been just once.
So inspired by a little melancholy, a new year, a new moon, thought about painting out some of the emotion that simmers on days like this. Soup is simmering as I find a wool sock, and remember the things I meant to send home with my daughter that I didn't. I remembered most things the day our youngest daughter left. I like arrivings so much better than leavings.
Wishing you a new year filled with the things that are most important, and the things you love.