not much

One of the most amazing things about days off spent at home is that I manage to get things done. Not a lot, but still impressive. I might even not talk myself out of getting a neighborhood parking sticker tomorrow, especially since the office is only a mile from my flat.

The MSG and I discovered a wonderful TV show quite by accident when we went to visit his family for Thanksgiving. It’s called “Dirty Jobs” and all about those sorts of jobs you didn’t know existed, most of which involve host Mike Rowe wading through quicksand-like bat guano or getting slapped in the crotch by a baby shark. If you get the Discovery Channel, please try and catch an episode. It’s warm and witty and interesting and often hilarious.

My family and friends were incredibly generous to me again this year with their gifts, and I am humbled. That’s all I have to say about that. A certain cat is plastered to my side, letting me know not-so-subtly that it is time to curl up with “Anansi Boys” before sleep.

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I acknowledge that I live and work on stolen Cowlitz, Clackamas, Atfalati, and Kalapuya land.
I give respect and reverence to those who came before me.