Christmas in the isolated desert doesn’t lend itself to doing random acts of kindness, unless you count things like unloading the dishwasher unasked. It does lend itself to hours of uninterrupted, delicious reading. I think I’ve read more in the last week than I have in the last six months: The Witches by Stacy Schiff, Brain on Fire by Susannah Cahalan, Looking for Alaska by John Green, Judgement Call by J.A. Jance. When I finish The Perks of Being a Wallflower, I may have to make the long drive to the nearest dreaded Walmart to find something new to read.
Santa was good to me. He paid for my Crucible poster to be framed.
My parents just don’t “get” fandom, and yet, if I been a son, they wouldn’t have batted an eye had I had a sports team obsession.
Thorin Oakenpuppy got fixed last Tuesday and has been wearing the “cone of shame” for the last six days. He’s adjusted quite well. He uses it to bulldoze his way around the world. The mild sedatives they gave me to give him haven’t worked one little bit. He’s a hard headed puppy and is determined to play, no matter what. Jewel, tired of being head-butted by him, finally bit through the edge of the cone and started dragging him around the yard. There wasn’t a thing he could do about it because he couldn’t reach her.
I wonder what Armitage got for Christmas? He’s probably skiing somewhere. Has the flooding extended south to Leicester? It seems like there is an awful amount of flooding going on in the world: northern England, South and Central America, the American southeast. Tornados in Texas. Blizzards in the prairie states. Bad weather all around.
Here are pictures of scenes that should have been in the Hobbit movies. I would credit the artists if I knew who they were. If you are the artist? Well done!