The Christmas chaos went well. The kids burrowed into the pile of presents, sending bits of wrapping paper in all directions and exclaiming with delight. Except for The Dickens, who had spent part of the night throwing up and was still feeling unwell as the day dawned. She was so tired that she laid her head down on a pile of presents and rested. Poor girl. She perked up later on though.

Most importantly, Willow and my dad finally met. Willow's stranger anxiety caused her to cry when he held her, but lately she's been crying when anybody besides Jen or myself holds her. She did smile at him from the safety of Jen's arms though.

Many presents were exchanged every which way. The litter of wrapping paper extends across several homes, and the piles of presents are everywhere. Who knows where we're going to put all of the new stuff. Maybe we can put it in the places vacated by all of the presents we gave.

I think I'll go have some of my new candy.

cds I listened to while grumbling about having to deliver papers that nobody is going to read: V/A "Amalia Rodrigues & the History of Fado", Epizod "The Bulgarian God", Paul Chain "Cosmic Wind", Eleni Karaindrou "Trojan Women", and Current Ninety Three "The Seahorse Rears to Oblivion"