Kureyon, my wayward son.

I don’t know, I was just suddenly reminded of the old Kansas song.

I have had an exceptionally productive week at work. When I went home last night, there were no ToDo’s undone. That will change; I expect a positive blizzard of them once my attorney comes in.

The singles are assisting with baptisms tonight. I will either wear a skirt to work, or take one (we wear our Sunday best to the temple). I don’t know if I am up for a third consecutive day of temple service, but I certainly understand how Anna, the prophetess mentioned briefly in the New Testament, could have served her entire widowhood there. Oh, the peace that follows you home afterward!

I am almost ready to begin the decreases on a doll hat. The fireplace is humming. Part of me wants to brew up a pot of Abuelita (Mexican hot chocolate, with cinnamon) and sit on the couch all morning, wool in hand.

We are doing lunch and a movie at work today, watching the last half of You Can’t Take It with You, with Jimmy Stewart and friends. Lovely. I don’t suppose men ever talked to their sweethearts the way he does to his, but all of us were sighing wistfully.

It’s supposed to be colder than a bill collector’s heart out there today. Bundle up. Drink some hot chocolate. Tell the folks you love, that you do.

[Y’all? I do.]