Lost my internet over Christmas. Whoops. Thank you for all of the emails. I wish each and every one of you a wonderful season of Epiphany and beyond and hope that 2024 treats us all better because 2023 was a slog.
Today my shirt has a down and out Alien on it. He's holding a coffee cup out and a sign that says I NEED TO GET HOME. Not sure who's shirt this is but if it winds up in my laundry pile I wear it until someone points out the error and asks for it back. We can't be expected to know who owns what funny t-shirt and I have far too many mens XL band shirts that you would think it would be obvious to just go by size.
Fashion? What's that? Alien shirts and jeans for the win. And socks. Smart wool, homemade wool, I'm not picky as long as they aren't synthetic.
Christmas was quiet and lovely and completely devoid of spirit. We did our best. We made new traditions. We broke old traditions. We were common sense about it and tomorrow it's over. Then Candlemas comes. But first snow and cold, forecast for next week, which is perfect. Seriously. I hate snow now. I want to live in perpetual autumn, after the heat, after the leaves just begin to turn but before it gets dark so fucking early. I don't want hot or cold, just tepid, medium life. Bring me the fringe, margin seasons or bring me death.
I wonder if they can find a shirt that says that.
The internet thing is a long story but Caleb took it away and Lochlan doesn't care all that much and I could ask Google to look things up if I needed answers but otherwise huh, maybe he gave me the luddite Christmas of my dreams or maybe he's still the Diabhalest ever.