I thought we’d survived the End of the World on 12-12-12, only to discover that no, it’s scheduled for 12-21-12. Meanwhile, this is is my least favorite time of the natural year anyway, with the dwindling, gray days and black, icy nights.  So it’s easy enough to go anti-jolly curmudgeon and  think about things like:

–My dining room ceiling which, after a plumbing near-disaster over Thanksgiving, is seriously considering falling in

–The empty house across the street which had its copper pipes ransacked, a much too familiar story here in Cleveland

–How much it costs to mail things and how long it takes for them to get there

–The enormous temptation to order all my gifts from the evil empire of Amazon  

–Et cetera

Lots of studies have confirmed what kids are all too happy to demonstrate to  parents: the bad times stick in the mind more strongly than the good. And yet, and yet.  Yesterday two things blew all the unpleasant stuff clean away, at least for now:  

–I got to hold a real, live copy of PHOEBE AND DIGGER.

–I found out all my kids, even the one who just started a new job, will get to come home for Christmas.

Sometimes short term memory is a lovely thing.

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