Happy.

Be nice to our timprov, for it is his birthday, and he is now old. Ancient. Practically doddering. One foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel. Etc.

(He's now the same age as I am, which, for those of you not keeping score at home, is 26.)

Last night he opened his presents from us and porphyrin's crew, and he seemed to like them and is reading one of the books even now. (Robin, handing him a wrapped present of suspicious size and shape: "Open dis book!" Me: "Surprise!") He also is now the proud possessor of a miniature Wild Thing. We thought Roo was asking him if that was his mother. Ummm, no. He was asking whether it was his monster. Whew. (We were also treated to the extremely diverting saga of How The Door Snake Lost Its Head. I tell ya, Kipling only wished he had this kid's plots.)

Okay. Back to attacking Melvin The Laundry Monster and other list items.

Does not rhyme with "theme"

madwriter and yhlee got me wanting to do this: ask me anything you want to about my writing. Anything on any part of it. I will do my best to approximate an answer. Or (and this bit is mine) tell me something you think is interesting about what you're working on right now, whether it's a writing project or some other cool thing you do. Or, hey, do both, question and answer.

(I asked madwriter about his writing madness and yhlee about what she was most looking forward to writing, to give you an idea of how I take this question. But you can take it any way you want.)

ellameena, dear, just don't use the m-word. Think of it as a circulating question if that makes you feel better.