That is a very modest diet for Mr. Watson! The cats at the client house are tiny and get ~ 80 grams a day (except for the smallest one with health issues who is always rail thin and can eat as much as he wants, usually 125-150 if I can get it into him.) The kitties gave me a gift today - everyone ate a lot of food at breakfast and their medication so I can skip a trip. That extra hour or so will be appreciated here.

I'll use it to wrap the bag of things I'd forgotten about until Charmion mentioned putting on the woolen socks. I have some mukluk-style socks that were supposed to go in yesterday's box. I missed another thing and something else I ordered is coming here instead of going to the recipient directly, so I shall keep UPS in business for a while into the new year.

Since it is xmas day I've turned on the good receiver in my office with its wonderful speakers (it has lost the ability to store stations so I don't use it so often) to listen to the classical station and their various holiday offerings (non-secular, but not sounding churchy, so good for me. You can never listen to Schubert's Ave Maria too often). Last night PBS played something from London conducted by Marin Alsop called Too Hot to Handel: The Gospel Messiah that I'd like to listen to with the good speakers. (It's also on YouTube if this link doesn't work in Canada).

From the holiday to the mundane: another gift to me was reassurance from the insurance adjustor who earlier this week called to see how the work is going on the house. I was relieved to learn that they don't need it all to be done right now, that I can postpone to better weather. He's fine with me being the contractor. I'll send him the information about the roof job and that's the biggest part of it.

This week the local NPR station played some of their "best of" interviews and I've added two books to my list to read soon. She has some of the best interviews around, and along with Fresh Air is probably where I get most reading and film suggestions that I follow through on. In particular, The Happiness Files: Insights on Work and Life by Arthur C. Brooks sounds like one the entire world needs to read when we have the cretin in the White House sucking every speck of dopamine from our brains. It's a collection of his essays from The Atlantic, and I could just go read there, I am a subscriber.

Veering back into the holiday lane, I've looked at the modest setup on my mantle and need to bolster it with a few taller figures. Often I pull out a subset of ornaments to give a different spin on the diorama I create there, but this year's carved pieces are all fairly short in stature (I couldn't have them out with garland, they'd all be buried in it). But I can add a couple of taller nutcrackers to balance the display. This is for the kids, mostly. It has been a rough year, and for no reason to do with me or any of my family. Even though we are all ok, we aren't. I think my next sewing project is to make small dolls of the occupant of 1600 Pennsylvania Ave that can be hung or burned or stabbed with pins. When I dressed I put on a t-shirt with the message "Even White People are Sick of White People BULLSHIT". Ho ho ho.

I am ok, and I had some chocolate this morning with my tea because it is xmas. Just looking back and looking forward and considering the strategy to make the next year better. There is a little dog asleep under my desk and she must be dreaming, she is wagging her tail against my foot. That is the message that counts right now, I am the person my dogs think I am, and their world is good.