Day after lights

The lussekatter were late -- early evening rather than early morning -- but they did get made. I put dried blueberries in mine (lots this time, not just one per side of the S-curve like last time), and the wee beast desperately wanted me to feed her dried blueberries as I worked on them. I may have dropped one or two on the kitchen floor. Still, I made my golden bread on a grey day. I did my share of this hoping stuff.

Today it's snowing. The snow we already had was starting to get grey and brown and melty, so I'm not entirely displeased to see this batch, even though it means I will have to shovel myself out before going to my diagnostic medical procedure. Which, I am informed, will not be the most fun I've ever had with my clothes off, but should not be deeply unpleasant, either. Let's hope the person who said that was right. (This is a "just in case, but we expect nothing" diagnostic procedure. The one in January is a "we hope to see something informative here" diagnostic procedure.)

I've finished off three rolls of wrapping paper this morning, and the pile of naked presents by the side of my desk is back down to semi-reasonable sizes.

I am filled with panic whenever I think of touching Sampo again. I'm not sure whether that means I should grit my teeth and do it or whether it means I should give it a break and do other stuff.

(no subject)

I lied. I am no longer glad to see this snow at all. It is gorgeous and fluffy and freakin' heavy, and I have done the most half-assed job of driveway shoveling I have ever done in my life. ("Why did you shovel the driveway?" "Had to get to the doctor." "What are your symptoms?" "Well, fatigue....") I have shoveled one half of the driveway onto the other, and the steps are still mostly snow-covered (not the walk, just the steps). It is pathetic, and it is the limit of my abilities right now.

grumblegrousegrumble

I still love the smell of it, though.