On this date in 2006 I came out to my folks. I was driving them to the airport, and twenty minutes after coming out to them, they had to hop onto an airplane for a five day vacation. Yeah, probably not the best strategy...
Today, Mark, Arthur and I went to my folks to help them take down their Christmas tree. It's a large, artificial one; and despite Mark and my Dad's efforts to use a winch to compress the artificial limbs against the artifical trunk, it no longer fits in the shipping boxes it came in.
Our tree is still up. For a few weeks, our tree was simply eight strings of lighs hanging from a ceiling hook. It looked sleek. Then we added a potted tree and the ensemble looks like hell. I think either the tree or the lights alone would have been fine, but we didn't know that until the whole thing was up.
Still haven't heard from WotF. No news is good news at this point and I'm free to imagine that the judges have placed my story in first place and are arguing about which stories are second and third.
I found a new way to use my time on the web: LibraryThing. I figure that I've got about a third of my library entered. You can see a random selection of book covers to your right.
Arthur and Mark are well. Arthur broke my glasses yesterday when he grabbed the stem (I had to fix the frames where a screw had popped out). So a new word in his vocabulary is "broken," and it was one of the first things he said to Mark when he came home from work. Arthur didn't quite get it that my glasses were fixed, and kept pointing at them and saying "broken." Then I made the mistake of saying that I needed my glasses because my eyes were broken (I guess I should have said that I have an astigmatism). He really didn't get it when I told him that the glasses fixed my eyes, and demanded to feel my eyes.
Mark says that he's learned my scowl.