I love anything new. The smell of a new baby. A new box of crayons. A fresh sheet of crisp white paper. The only problem with newness is nothing stays new. Before long the baby grows into a teenager. The box of crayons become a box of broken unusable nubs. Someone wads the paper into a ball and throws it at their brother. Now it is a new month, a new year. It is time for a new start….