By Ira Sadoff
Ok, I no longer want them,
the many selves I had to manage
that once exhausted friends. I believed
in angels then, thought I might be
an angel—that was me, flying off
on a tangent, just so we could land
on one of my many balconies
so we could look down on everyone.
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I had two major chores to finish on Wednesday -- all the laundry I ignored earlier in the week and over the weekend while celebrating, and getting all the holiday cards finished and in the mail. And I got them both done, so I feel accomplished even if I didn't finish a bunch of writing and other work. Rose came to visit the cats with Chanukah presents, including a scratch pad elephant and a chirping bird toy with feathers that Effie loves. Paul made Swedish meatballs for St. Lucia's Day.
We watched an episode of The Crown that I really liked -- yay, George VI and Churchill flashbacks, and finally Elizabeth looking happy about something -- and this week's Designated Survivor, which seems to be soft rebooting all the series' relationships and while there's one actor who seemed really miscast to me, I'm really ambivalent about how they wrote her off. Here are some photos from the US Botanical Gardens' holiday train display of American roadside attractions:
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