mrissa: (winter)
[personal profile] mrissa
I am safely back to my own disaster zone home, and it's good to be back. The house is slightly more reputable than it was yesterday. Slightly. The wrapped boxes under the tree are far less numerous, and we've run out of several kinds of cookies. (This is absolutely not meant for a complaint: having them hanging around indefinitely, getting stale, enjoyed by no one, is not the goal.)

We'll have a friend in from out of town this morning, and I think our burst of sociability will end soon after, and everybody will curl up with Christmas books and ignore each other in introverted bliss. And I will be in some danger of writing the end of the Carter Hall Christmas story by Twelfth Night. The automatic resolution generator wanted me to spend more time on hockey in 2007. I can only assume this means "write Carter Hall stories."

Our niecelet has vampire teeth. Hee. Also she sings to herself when pleased, little songs that sound like, "ehhhhhhdo ohhhhhhtoh oooohhhhtoh ohhhhhhtoh." She is often pleased.

I'm in that stage where I wake up exhausted again. We'll try to get past that soon. But in the meantime I find that all the anecdotes and discussions are wedged firmly in my brain, not to come out, and there are lamps to light and dishes to put away and laundry, oh, oh, the mountain of laundry.

Date: 2006-12-30 04:09 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] brithistorian.livejournal.com
Welcome home!

I imagine it will please you to hear that my grandmother back in Mississippi enjoyed the tin of pepparkakor we sent her so much that she wanted to learn to make them herself, so we sent her your recipe. :-)

Date: 2006-12-30 05:31 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mrissa.livejournal.com
That does please me. Thank you.

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