Ginger's family's Santa Lucia festival was good fun, and they have inspired me: I'm contemplating putting pearl sugar on our lussekatter next year (not in place of the dried blueberries, I hastened to assure
timprov, but in addition to). They had mulled Among lo these many other useful tasks, including writing and phone calls and the like, I'm hoping to finish the Christmas shopping today. I have a list of where I need to go and what I need to get there, and if they thwart me, what else I should do instead. I have several things I want to get yet, but I think I've plotted a route that will allow me to do so fairly efficiently. And if not, the reason for doing it Monday is clear: I will still have a few more days to wedge errands in or ask online retailers to expedite shipping or etc.
Yesterday was a wretched day for library books. I hadn't quit one in months, and now here I was unable to read past the first 100 pages of two of them due to extreme suckage and, in one case, total insanity. I am hopeful about the next few, but that's not saying much: it's me. I'm always hopeful. Even in the face of evidence.
Of course, sometimes what I'm hopeful about is the possibility that someone will take off their clog and beat a particular somebody senseless with it, but I'm flexible in those situations. Those Croc thingies will do.
