I've already forgotten what the clover thing means.

I'm mostly checking in just because I'm trying to stall another 10ish minutes before my mother's virtual zoo will be able to help out Mrs. Claus again for the chance to pick up a Christmas item that somehow trains animals (huh?), and she's busy trying to finish someone else's book before they leave tomorrow. [That's kinda Christmas in Iowa in a big nutshell, in a way.]

The Red Green Show is playing in the living room (which honestly brings me back to my middle/high school days, late Sunday nights in ways I'm too tired to express tonight), and I have a stack of books from my caring relatives. Also, I have grand memories (and photographic documentation) of the slightly-faulty gingerbread house we grandkids assembled yesterday. Post-it "condemned" sign out front, I love you most of all.

I'm sorry that you're not here to eat one of the Oreo truffles, or the ice cream dessert, but frankly that leaves more for me. Go eat your own holiday dessert tradition, and then give the baker a hug, because really.

I'm sleepy and full of sugar. I just almost used a comma improperly. I'm gonna go watch the Canadians, and close out this Christmas.