After getting Sarah’s Missing-Blogger-Milk-Carton email (not about me), I realized that I hadn’t really touched the old blog in five days.  Not exactly a millennium, I realize, but unusual for me.  I don’t know why this assuages my guilt, but by the looks of the traffic on my regular reads, I am not alone in my unearthly orbit.

Greeeaaatt.  Another instrument for self-induced performance guilt.  Just what I needed for Christmas this year. 

I will have to say that the VERY best gift that I got (in fact, one of the ONLY, but that’s another blog for another day), was from Charlotte.  5 yards of highly coveted wool in a fabulous gray-black weave that is authentic for medieval Europe.  From the lady who hates to shop.  Let me emphasize this:  Highly.  Coveted.  I looked at this stuff at least twice a day online and drooled.  And it’s MINE, ALL MINE.  Thank YOU, Charlotte.  Next to the Christmas morning smiles of my son, it was the highlight of my holiday.

As for Christmas itself?  Let’s just say it was a bittersweet year, far more sweet than bitter.  And really, in the face of this:

How can it NOT be a great Christmas?