Obviously, I must feel as if I have something to say before this year ends, but it seems I have no idea what it is and come here expecting some sort of Ouija board writing. And it is not working.
Could it be a paranormal thing that I, with my amazing AmeliaJake psychic power, am psyching before it happens? At midnight, will something fundamentally change and I will different? Oh, you hope . . . you hope. But, I must remind you, better the devil you know than the one you don’t.
I think it would be fun to have a shortbread party right now – shortbread made with real butter. Shortbread that melts in my mouth. Shortbread! Shortbread! Shortbread! Shortbread! Shortbread! Shortbread crumbs on my chin and shirt and lap . . .
It appears that the season’s cheer sort of held off on me until NOW and I feel like having fun . . . and shortbread.
My friends here at the PBC & R are getting a wee bit nervous . . . Who IS this smiling, cheerful person? They need to relax; chances are it won’t last. That’s a bummer of a thought, but stranger things, dontcha know?
Any of the real deal left? Bears noticed that the snow was passing well to the North and were upset that you were hogging it all.
Almost had a catastrophe here. Reached for a can of compressed air to cleanse the keyboard of crumbs and grabbed a can of WD-40 instead.