Oh...

... and I just noticed that I have written nothing about my Christmas nor my New Year's Eve. I have run out of epiphanies, so let me bore you by reciting a grocery list. We bought oysters, shrimps, foie gras, various shellfishes and charcuterie; received boxes of nice chocolates; opened some bottles of wine; had a cake baked. And then we ate and ate and ate.

I did, especially. During the season, I finished two big boxes of chocolates all by myself. Burp.

Anu Ba?!

I am going back to the Philippines for three weeks on Monday. It's Saturday late afternoon. I haven't even taken out my suitcase yet. Instead of dreaming of miles of sandy beaches and of eating lechon, I sit listening to Tori Amos whining while I bead and I crochet. Sigh. Such is the life of the writing sastre.