ShortDays of Celeste

[ismo]

Not a very productive day, because once again I woke up at 4 am and couldn't get back to sleep. When I have a couple of these nights in a row, I am toast. Not very crispy toast, either. I took a nap later in the morning, which made me adequately functional but not happy. We had a Zoom with Deb and the Prussian, rescheduled due to the fact that we'll have visitors on Friday. I did work on my rewrite a bit--with pen and paper because there's something about screens that is very stupefying on little sleep. The day's main accomplishment was to take down the Christmas tree. I didn't want to, but it was time. I've decided that Hans Christian Andersen's sentimentality about the poor, poor Christmas tree may make a good story, but is inaccurate. When we had lovingly undressed the tree of its finery, I didn't sense that it was sad. I thought it was happy to move back into the cool, mysterious dark outside and go about its business of growing back into the earth via the municipal compost. I sometimes feel that way myself after a party's over (barring the compost part--not ready for that yet). It's nice to take a deep breath and feel the friendly silence. The Sparrowhawk very wisely suggested take-out rather than me trying to cook in my impaired state. Mongolian beef for me and pork lo mein for him, both very tasty. And the Philosopher sent us two more pictures of the wonder child! One with his eyes open! The Nipper inquired as to this child's name, but received no answer. I guess they're thinking about it. The Lovely Friend is still recovering. They may go home on Thursday, although they could stay until Friday if they felt the need.