I don’t mean to boast, but…
HO. HO. HO.
If you’re one of those unlucky folks out there who hasn’t read Hogfather, you’re in for a treat when you finally do get around to it. Hogfather’s so much fun to read. Terry Pratchett writing at the height of his powers produces a book that skewers and exults Christmas at the same time. (As the Death books tend to do with their subject matter.) Pratchett can do something few other writers dare to try: gutpunch you while you’re laughing, without spoiling the laughter. At his best, he makes me want to laugh and cry and start a revolution all at the same time.
Lagavulin 16 is quite a nice single malt. A reliable source (basically my friend Dan, who looks stuff like this up on Wikipedia) informs me that “Happy Christmas” came about as a phrase because Victorians thought “Merry Christmas” was too intemperate and promoted drunkenness. Be merry responsibly, I suppose?
For all my joking above, Scotch-and-Pratchett was just the easiest-to-photograph part of an excellent weekend, that included, among other things, a wonderful Messiah Pt 1 performed by my wife’s choir, and a showing of the Hobbit, which I liked.
Writing and editing proceed well, though not remarkably on either front. I have dinner in the oven so I’m going to sign off and do some more work before the alarm bell rings. That should put me well over threshold for the day. Rock on, you crazy people.