'Twas the night before Christmas, and I'm spending it in quite the mundane way.
Mum is in Denver, having driven her there just yesterday.
Snuggled on the couch in blankets and socks
Trying to avoid the numbness in my 'tocks.
Words glaring at me from inside it's file,
of angels and demons and a foggy British isle.
On the telly it's whispering Ghosts and Jennifer Love Hewitt,
Ironically, as I write this, just started the episode "Holiday Spirit".
Knitting sitting unknit,
A shawl almost done, simply just waiting for me to finish it.
The shower is being avoided, due to the indoor crisp winter air,
Frankly I don't want to get sick with wet frozen hair!
Homemade GingerRoo Cheesecake and Oatmeal Chocolate Chips are drawing me in,
Which is evil and wicked and an unavoidably delicious sin.
This little ditty has gone gotten rather long
Avoiding the real writing I should be working on.
So once this episode is over, avoidance is gone.
The shower, the dishes, and back to writing shall be done.
It'll be a quiet couple of nights, just Pan and little old me
So to everyone a good season, and I end with Allons-y!