So I still do not have a computer: having only briefly returned to the land of the typable, Bertie Owen remains in limbo, awaiting his keyboard transplant. (My father made a first try early this morning, only to discover that all the screws inside a 2009 MacBook Pro are Torx T4's and his smallest grade of relevant screwdriver is a T5. This problem will be fixed with a trip to Micro Center tomorrow.) I am behind on e-mail, I am behind on the internet, 2014 is possibly my least documented holiday season since I started keeping this journal. I had a really lovely Christmas.
There was homemade eggnog, high-octane as is traditional. There was the presence of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nineweaving and fleurdelis28, sairaali and M., gaudior and B., Dean and his daughter (who is in third grade now, so I gave her a copy of Over Sea, Under Stone (1965); she is currently reading The Lord of the Rings), and Gaudior's parents. There was lots of good conversation. A quantity of these people stayed for dinner, so there was roast beef and mashed potatoes and vegan chili and gajar ka halwa and mushroom-and-kale shepherd's pie (these last two items generously contributed by Saira) and, eventually, flaming plum pudding, which did not catch on fire like the last year we made it with suet, but flickered all over with burning brandy until it was snuffed and devoured. There was the bit where everyone collapses afterward.
After everyone had gone home,derspatchel and I curled up on the downstairs couch and watched Les Triplettes de Belleville (2003). It is a comic-grotesque movie, but I cry at the transatlantic crossing because it makes me think of my grandmother, who would have crossed an ocean for either of her grandchildren. We are home now with leftovers, and cats who have been fed and petted (Autolycus is grooming himself in my office, Hestia is asleep on my spare chair), and I have several new books, including Gemma Files' We Will All Go Down Together, Chaz Brenchley's Bitter Waters, Rachel Manija Brown and Sherwood Smith's Stranger, and Neil Powell's Benjamin Britten: A Life for Music (2013), from Rob.
Nine gave us an anniversary gift. It is a catwings. I will have pictures up as soon as I can take some (and a laptop that isn't borrowed to upload them to). Our cats will watch the doorways and the windows and a winged wooden cat will watch the air, so we will be safe into the next year. And, with any luck, beyond.
I haven't even looked at Yuletide.
There was homemade eggnog, high-octane as is traditional. There was the presence of
nineweaving and fleurdelis28, sairaali and M., gaudior and B., Dean and his daughter (who is in third grade now, so I gave her a copy of Over Sea, Under Stone (1965); she is currently reading The Lord of the Rings), and Gaudior's parents. There was lots of good conversation. A quantity of these people stayed for dinner, so there was roast beef and mashed potatoes and vegan chili and gajar ka halwa and mushroom-and-kale shepherd's pie (these last two items generously contributed by Saira) and, eventually, flaming plum pudding, which did not catch on fire like the last year we made it with suet, but flickered all over with burning brandy until it was snuffed and devoured. There was the bit where everyone collapses afterward.After everyone had gone home,
derspatchel and I curled up on the downstairs couch and watched Les Triplettes de Belleville (2003). It is a comic-grotesque movie, but I cry at the transatlantic crossing because it makes me think of my grandmother, who would have crossed an ocean for either of her grandchildren. We are home now with leftovers, and cats who have been fed and petted (Autolycus is grooming himself in my office, Hestia is asleep on my spare chair), and I have several new books, including Gemma Files' We Will All Go Down Together, Chaz Brenchley's Bitter Waters, Rachel Manija Brown and Sherwood Smith's Stranger, and Neil Powell's Benjamin Britten: A Life for Music (2013), from Rob.Nine gave us an anniversary gift. It is a catwings. I will have pictures up as soon as I can take some (and a laptop that isn't borrowed to upload them to). Our cats will watch the doorways and the windows and a winged wooden cat will watch the air, so we will be safe into the next year. And, with any luck, beyond.
I haven't even looked at Yuletide.
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