Manip by the uber-talented noaluvjames
No lighting the menorah this year... it's still packed somewhere under a ton of boxes which probably have my winter sweaters in them. Just the soft glow of what's left of my scented candles - right now being Illuminations Roses.
The cats are close by. Ringo sprawled under the desk, keeping my feet warm, and Juliet draped over one of my myriad of boxes holding either baseball cards, or some other collectible nonsense I refuse to part with.
Occasional stabs from the muse result in new chapters of fic. The odd growl from my belly results in raiding the fridge for either fresh meunster cheese, or leftover meatballs and spaghetti.
Listening to the weathermen complain about how cold it is at 26 degrees has me laughing. I keep reminding myself it's better to be in New York than Vermont, even if the kids have other plans for the holidays (translation: being lazy and sleeping in now that the transit strike is no longer an issue for either one of 'em) than visiting me.
I've got lots to say about the state of my union, but that'll be another post. In the meantime, I hug you all to my bosom tightly, leaving just enough space for you to breathe. Raise a latke to your loved ones.