Home home stretch

In twelve hours, I will be nearly two hours away from Al Birda. This makes me to be both sad and happy. My two weeks at home were most lovely, and I saw nearly all of the people (sometimes as much as twice!) and had lots of good chatting. I missed seeing Herbert and Ralph, but aside from that all was very wonderful. Even being at home with Parents Looking Over One's Shoulder isn't as bad as it is traditionally made out to be. I mean hey, they let me have a party. And it was a good one, and of a size I would hesitate to host in my apartment. My camera was having a fit because it needed its memory card formatted, so I have very few pictures of the event and indeed of my trip, but I'm sure other people will chip in with theirs (right?). Dad got a prize one of me giving Lori the stink-eye before I blew out the candles, I know. I bought far too much cheese for the party, but the pizzas we made with it went over very well indeed.

I will update more comprehensively later; right now I need to pack my carry-on. My stuff hasn't expanded too badly over Christmas. Katie gave me a cookie jar, which is delightful and, most excellently, shaped like a Christmas tree. It's big, though, so I'll just bring it with me in the fall so that I have it ready for next Christmas' cookies.

What you hear from me here is about the clearest I've been able to say anything all day. I've been more or less mute from my Christmas Cold, which was a Christmas Fever for a while (the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful). Hopefully this involuntary vow of silence/squawking will have subsided by tomorrow so as to allow me to shriek with glee when I see my Ontario friends again.