Christmas Eve

Helped an old man print a Nazi porno screenplay.

Helped an author find funny middle-grade books for inspiration because the book she's writing is "a bit grim", and she's decided to make it a comedy. She's writing a children's book about the Donner Party.

And then I was FREE for the weekend.

Went home and discovered there was another cat. My mother is as big a sucker for kittens as Gavin is. Someone shoved a box of kittens at her and she picked out the skinniest, smelliest one, because he needed her. He has a big shiny muffler burn across one ear which curls the tip up. He looks like a wall-eyed, bow-legged bat, and he smells like skunky weed. He's perfect. We kitty-sat him for a couple days while she finished shopping.

you can't see because he's a dark ball of darkness, but he's washing his face and it is very adorable

I finally lost the fight with seasonal illness and switched from booze to Robitussin. This was good timing, because Mike decided to make an old bottle of Drambuie into something drinkable, and he mixed up something called a "Rusty Nail", then stepped on an actual rusty nail as he was serving it. I yelled, "NAILED IT!" as he went down, and he did not think this was helpful.

The Drambuie was still not drinkable.

I am a fan of bandwagons, so we made baby yoda cookies out of an angel cookie cutter. And there is a gorgeous goddamn homemade yule log in the fridge, complete with meringue mushrooms, which is a sign that I must look like I'm on death's door, because my family knows that "yule log" is on the top of my bucket list. It is a safe item that I never planned to actually check off, so that I could never actually die. That is how bucket lists work, I believe. Thanks for the attempted murder, family.

The roast is roasting, the yorkshire pudding will be a foot high, and I am waiting for my cold medicine to wear off so I can drink a bottle of moscato. Merry Christmas, folks!