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18/12/05 20:07Rest in peace, Jack Anderson. ("Let me tell you what I tell my reporters. I say I want to know the facts. I want to know the facts as they are, not as you think they are, not as you hope they are, not as someone tells you they are.")
I'm liking this song I just heard on The Thistle and Shamrock, by a group called the Poozies:
( Another Train )
It's looking like we'll have the numbers to perform a ten-part, double-choir arrangement of "In Dulci Jubilo" on Christmas Eve. I am so excited about this I can hardly sit still.
The day so far...
Hours spent in meetings: 2
Entire glasses of grape juice/club soda knocked over: 1
Invoices generated: 13
Mandelbrot baked: 5 dozen
Bourbon balls hardening in the fridge: two batches
Boubon balls needing to be rolled: two more batches
Bits of mandlebrot and butter-sugar-bourbon mixture dropped on the dog: innumerable
Briskets roasted (and spinach boiled and instant potatoes nuked): 1
Loads of dishes washed (so far): 2
Poems written: 1 (Between the Hints)
The plan for the rest of the evening:
Eat dinner and shower.
Finish rolling bourbon balls; dip the first two batches in chocolate.
Bake or toss out defrosted chicken drumsticks.
Letter thank-you thingie for Guild newsletter or draft poems for a critique.
Figure out what I can wear to church tomorrow; do laundry if necessary.
Clear off dining room table so I can serve lunch on it tomorrow.
Wrap the guest's present so that I can actually give it to her tomorrow (along with the birthday presents still sitting on my sideboard -- I bought them in time, but we haven't actually managed to see each other since early October)
Clear enough junk out of the car so that there's room for a passenger.
Write at least one Christmas card.
Wrap the rest of the need-to-be-mailed presents that I have on hand, as the post office will be open tomorrow.
Finish compiling the still-need-to-purchase and still-need-to-bake lists.
What isn't going to happen tonight: copyediting, crocheting, ironing, mending, the next 100 words on _______'s gift-fic, lettering child-dedication certificates, canvass research, etc., etc., eek.
That said, the only two items on the above list that I must do before going to bed are the first two (the bourbon balls having been promised to a bakesale). It's all doable, just not tonight.
And so, to the rest of my dinner (i.e., the soupy stuff I don' t dare eat near a keyboard, because doing that when people like![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
aunty_marion have zero compunction about posting Snape/Hermione filk (to "Away in a Manger," no less) would not be merely asking for trouble, it'd be inviting it in with an open fifth).
I'm liking this song I just heard on The Thistle and Shamrock, by a group called the Poozies:
( Another Train )
It's looking like we'll have the numbers to perform a ten-part, double-choir arrangement of "In Dulci Jubilo" on Christmas Eve. I am so excited about this I can hardly sit still.
The day so far...
Hours spent in meetings: 2
Entire glasses of grape juice/club soda knocked over: 1
Invoices generated: 13
Mandelbrot baked: 5 dozen
Bourbon balls hardening in the fridge: two batches
Boubon balls needing to be rolled: two more batches
Bits of mandlebrot and butter-sugar-bourbon mixture dropped on the dog: innumerable
Briskets roasted (and spinach boiled and instant potatoes nuked): 1
Loads of dishes washed (so far): 2
Poems written: 1 (Between the Hints)
The plan for the rest of the evening:
Eat dinner and shower.
Finish rolling bourbon balls; dip the first two batches in chocolate.
Bake or toss out defrosted chicken drumsticks.
Letter thank-you thingie for Guild newsletter or draft poems for a critique.
Figure out what I can wear to church tomorrow; do laundry if necessary.
Clear off dining room table so I can serve lunch on it tomorrow.
Wrap the guest's present so that I can actually give it to her tomorrow (along with the birthday presents still sitting on my sideboard -- I bought them in time, but we haven't actually managed to see each other since early October)
Clear enough junk out of the car so that there's room for a passenger.
Write at least one Christmas card.
Wrap the rest of the need-to-be-mailed presents that I have on hand, as the post office will be open tomorrow.
Finish compiling the still-need-to-purchase and still-need-to-bake lists.
What isn't going to happen tonight: copyediting, crocheting, ironing, mending, the next 100 words on _______'s gift-fic, lettering child-dedication certificates, canvass research, etc., etc., eek.
That said, the only two items on the above list that I must do before going to bed are the first two (the bourbon balls having been promised to a bakesale). It's all doable, just not tonight.
And so, to the rest of my dinner (i.e., the soupy stuff I don' t dare eat near a keyboard, because doing that when people like
aunty_marion have zero compunction about posting Snape/Hermione filk (to "Away in a Manger," no less) would not be merely asking for trouble, it'd be inviting it in with an open fifth).