(no subject)

On the hill, the children play
I want to while the day away
In the denn the fire dances,
but under the tree no presents prances.
I must brave the cold,
do as I'm told:
"Buy presents, my dear,"
"For I fear,"
"The chimney's too narrow for Santa's rear."

- And this is why I don't write poetry. Kindly resist any temptation to refer to Vorgons.

(no subject)

I'm back. My carefully selected present for Victor did not meet C's approval, so now it's ours. I was so intent on buying gifts that I forgot my other errands, so I'll have to brave the crowds again tomorrow. :(

Remind me to buy all 2006 Christmas presents online this summer.

(no subject)

C has barricaded himself in the guestroom. Before that he asked for wrapping paper and scissors! hehehehehe

I am the chosen one!

I have been marked. I burned myself on the oven today. The burn mark looks like a mirrored map of Africa and the Arabic Peninsula. Uncannily so...is it a sign? Under all circumstances it's a nifty idea for a novel - and it barely hurts anymore.

PS. After I cut myself a few years ago, C has been uncomfortable with me using a knife. This evening he announced that I am forbidden to use the oven again. Think I could have a convenient accident with the vacuum-cleaner and the feather-duster?