SoundShiver of Ember
Dec. 2nd, 2022 09:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoI'm having that grumpy feeling that I get at the tag end of a cold, when all I want is to be normal again, but I think I've forgotten what that is like. I have the usual annoying cough. And the feeling that I'm getting really behind on something or other, if only I could remember what it was. SIGH.
I have mailed the Secret Santa picks. This involves me creating a tiny, hopefully cute little Christmas themed collage on a blank card. It's not something I have to do for any reason. I just like to. I hope my kids get at least a moment of enjoyment out of it, and don't just roll their eyes and go "Oh Mom. You're so weird." But I'll never know. The reason I have an apparently lifetime supply of these cards dates back to about 35 years ago, when I bought an entire box of blank cards and envelopes at wholesale prices, to use with my Girl Scout troop. My idea was that they could make some personalized stationery as a Christmas craft. Hahaha. I should have known. Those kids were masterful creators of endless chaos. Chaos occurred, and I inherited most of the cards. They've come in quite handy for this and that, over the centuries. I may leave what remains of them to one of the kids in my will. I put the new red candles into the candle holder, for Advent, and hung up the Advent calendars. I had a long conversation with a guy I know, at his instigation, about a project that he is ever so much more interested in than I am. I'm going to turn down getting involved in it, because I have no desire to be exploited. He's not going to understand that. But he will someday, when his bosses dump him after sucking out all the information they can get. Am I in a cynical frame of mind? Oh gosh no--not ME. Talking on the phone makes me cough.
I tried to work on my WIP, but acquired only a few additional sentences. By that time I was out of gas. We're now watching "Three Wise Men and a Baby" on the Hallmark channel. It's interesting to compare it to the original "Three Men and a Baby," a movie of which I was ridiculously fond at one time. Hallmark movies have this weird, sort of Uncanny Valley vibe. In fact, I wonder if they have made or will someday make a movie with that title. It could be one of their sweet little towns where there's a bookstore, bakery, or B&B in need of rescuing, not to mention good-looking and not TOO neurotic men in need of rescue by a manic pixie dreamgirl on the edge of middle age. A quirky fantasy story by that name is now noodling around in my brain. A Christmas romance, with aliens. I'll write it sometime in the next century, after I write the other Christmas one, about St. Nick and his only neighbor on the polar ice, who cannot be named for copyright reasons. At this time of year, it's comforting to imagine Big Blue dropping in at the Workshop for cocoa and a shot. . . .
Oh boy. The three guys in this movie just performed a parody ballet to the Nutcracker music. I think I'm in love. Hallmark has redeemed itself.
I have mailed the Secret Santa picks. This involves me creating a tiny, hopefully cute little Christmas themed collage on a blank card. It's not something I have to do for any reason. I just like to. I hope my kids get at least a moment of enjoyment out of it, and don't just roll their eyes and go "Oh Mom. You're so weird." But I'll never know. The reason I have an apparently lifetime supply of these cards dates back to about 35 years ago, when I bought an entire box of blank cards and envelopes at wholesale prices, to use with my Girl Scout troop. My idea was that they could make some personalized stationery as a Christmas craft. Hahaha. I should have known. Those kids were masterful creators of endless chaos. Chaos occurred, and I inherited most of the cards. They've come in quite handy for this and that, over the centuries. I may leave what remains of them to one of the kids in my will. I put the new red candles into the candle holder, for Advent, and hung up the Advent calendars. I had a long conversation with a guy I know, at his instigation, about a project that he is ever so much more interested in than I am. I'm going to turn down getting involved in it, because I have no desire to be exploited. He's not going to understand that. But he will someday, when his bosses dump him after sucking out all the information they can get. Am I in a cynical frame of mind? Oh gosh no--not ME. Talking on the phone makes me cough.
I tried to work on my WIP, but acquired only a few additional sentences. By that time I was out of gas. We're now watching "Three Wise Men and a Baby" on the Hallmark channel. It's interesting to compare it to the original "Three Men and a Baby," a movie of which I was ridiculously fond at one time. Hallmark movies have this weird, sort of Uncanny Valley vibe. In fact, I wonder if they have made or will someday make a movie with that title. It could be one of their sweet little towns where there's a bookstore, bakery, or B&B in need of rescuing, not to mention good-looking and not TOO neurotic men in need of rescue by a manic pixie dreamgirl on the edge of middle age. A quirky fantasy story by that name is now noodling around in my brain. A Christmas romance, with aliens. I'll write it sometime in the next century, after I write the other Christmas one, about St. Nick and his only neighbor on the polar ice, who cannot be named for copyright reasons. At this time of year, it's comforting to imagine Big Blue dropping in at the Workshop for cocoa and a shot. . . .
Oh boy. The three guys in this movie just performed a parody ballet to the Nutcracker music. I think I'm in love. Hallmark has redeemed itself.
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