Update: The propane man came, and I am no longer a virgin. Hey–wouldn’t you for heat? It takes five minutes of holding down the pilot button before you can fire up the stove; body heat helps. (And oh yeah, he believed it, so what can I tell you?)
Usual Cristmas Eve Day, trying desperately to push frames out. One difference this year; the propane stove ran out of fuel. It’s very, very cold in here.
Took the tree down; not in the mood. Haven’t enjoyed Christmas in twenty years as a retailer, although making my customers happy with their framed presents for others does offset my own bah-humbug frame of mind.
Brrrr. Hope the propane man comes soon. I may kiss him, mistletoe not needed.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology