Douglas Milewski (dacuteturtle) wrote,
Douglas Milewski
dacuteturtle

Christmas

Christmas went over very well. The pageant's second run on Christmas eve was equally well received as the original performance.

We had intended to eat at Five Guys in Georgetown, but they closed at 5pm. Fortunately, our favorite Halal (Muslim) Tai place was open, and the owner recognized us. She gave us a reserve table and got our food out before a larger party's order. Their menu is back to being good, too. It was nice seeing their little place full.

Miss Dash enjoyed all her new presents. Mrs. Clause sent a letter explaining why she got no kitten and no fairy dust.

Jenny and Miss Dash bought a set of MLP pony pajama pants for my. Cool! When I got my procedure a few weeks back, I got into commenting that next time, I'm wearing pony pajamas because pony pajamas are cool. Well, now I can wear pony pajamas.

After ripping my CD's for six months, I finally got to the point where I merged them into to the main music archive, and now I need to clean all that up. Not only that, but there's lots of cleanup tasks that I had forgotten to do. Oh, well, more work. At least now I'll be getting the benefit of my higher bitrate tracks.

Miss Dash and I made a silk flower bouquet for Jenny, who was utterly overwhelmed.

My in-laws gave us a new laser printer. It's a Brother, wireless, duplex printer. So, after a year and a half of no wireless printing, convenience has returned to our printing.

Jenny should be getting to the new book in a few days. It's a novella based on Macbeth. I figure that I can pick up some sales from folks who just don't want to read the play.

Among the films given to Miss Dash was "The Cat Returns." That a Studio Gibli that we hadn't seen yet. It had no scenes that sent her up the wall.

Hopefully we can watch Doctor Who tonight. Due to watching via Amazon, we're always a day or so behind. We still haven't watched "And Adventure In Time and Space" yet either. We also have "Monster University" Waiting on a shelf.

I finally finished Ken Burn's "Baseball." It was a documentary all about baseball, so you can imagine how tedious it was. I feel like that one performer from "A Chorus Line" who sings "Nothing." When I look at baseball, I feel nothing. All the poetry described by the commentators, to me, is simply hyperbole. Baseball has the same overall emotional impact as snow shovels and spark plugs.

One more Christmas to go, then we are done. I hate thinking about the bank account.
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