"She know the cafe remembers this man..."

Cranky, consumptive, and bleary. I also despair of getting anything done on time ever again, although I'm going to be up through half of tonight doing my darnedest to nail the deadline hovering closest to my scalp. (It's not that I'm not having fun -- it's just the massive muchness of it on top of other illness- and procrastination-magnified molehills. Am idiot. Alack. Which in turn means the holiday cards still on my dining room table are looking very Lincoln's birthday-ey...)

But also blessed with good things aplenty, including:

Cynthia Rylant's The Van Gogh Cafe, a small (52 pages) children's book I picked up some months back. The chapter called "The Star" turns out to be perfect Christmas reading (and extra points to Rylant for being matter-of-fact and wondrous about two men being each other's true love).

My USB flash drive. Sweet, sweet ginormous file transfer...

Able to type with all ten fingers today. (Had a mishap with a knife and an orange yesterday. There was enough blood I should have tried painting with it, or something...)

The New York Times devoted an entire page to non-Messiah Handel recommendations last week. Yes, I am easily amused.

Definitely teaching the Sayers-Rowling class in the spring. Woot! And eep... now I have to get organised...

Check from flashquake.

All y'all. *blows kisses, squares shoulders, returns to slide #239...*