Here it is, the Feast of Stephen, the Proto-martyr, and I am somewhat on the mend. I still haven't gone out, but I was feeling pretty great by the time I went to bed last night. So then waking up was a slow and expectorantish process this morning. Now that it's almost midday I'm back to last night's level, and might even go out for the evening meal. We've dined and supped and breakfasted on the ham from Christmas dinner, and will probably continue to lunch on it today. Someone* defined eternity as two people and a ham, but we aren't feeling that way yet. I'm sitting here listening to Sibelius—good music for frosty weather—and contemplating the delicious crunch of pickles on my ham sandwich.
William took these pictures of our house, the Corner Red Dwelling (so-christened in honor of Ursula Le Guin), on Christmas Eve with the snow coming down. And here is a better look at the Christmas table. (It's clear who's the more accomplished photographer!) I finished looking throught the photo book that I got yesterday—finished the first look through, I mean—and have be browsing in the other one (it's on Northern Mythology). No sign of two turtledoves yet.
*I found the quote attributed to Dorothy Parker, but no one has any specifics. I ran into it on Lois McMaster Bujold's MySpace blog just yesterday. Of course the title of this post is from Walt Kelly's Pogo: "Good King Stanislaus walked out/On his feets uneven" (sung to the traditional tune of the spring carol Tempus adest floridum). With that bit of trivia I come full circle to the very first blog postings I made, which must be a sign to stop this and go get that ham sandwich!
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