The final results are in: zippy's got a 3.92 GPA.
PREEN!

The doc gave me good drugs and they're kicking this sickness back into its dormant cells. For now at least. I'm not healthy, but I'm better. Closer to healthy than dead, and that's not where I was a week ago.

Christmas is in boxes all about the house, some wrapped, some not. So long as I don't open the ones I know he has for me, and he doesn't notice the one huge box for us from me, we'll be fine. Why do we leave our prizes sitting around unwrapped? Who knows. It's passive- aggressive gift giving. Santa Clause sans prozac.

This year we decided to do without all the decorations and cheer. No lights, no tree, no wreath. The bells hanging on the front door are the same bells that hang there all year 'round - jingle jingle all the way - just below the chorus to "I'd Melt With You" printed in Japanese. Our small gifts that are wrapped have found their place neatly on the antique, children's wooden folding chair that had previously served as a towel holder in our Colorado home (w/ a 1903 bath that had no closet space). Old Christmas Chair... Old Christmas Chair... everybody sing!

Speaking of nuts, mr. zippy successfully roasted this year's batch of chestnuts without ruining the microwave oven. Some of you may remember from last year that, in his enterprising way, mr. zippy decided he could zap the chestnuts rather than go thru the trouble of turning on the real oven. Sadly, that was the last we knew of the old microwave. It would never be the same again. Thankfully, that lesson was not lost on mr. zippy, for this year he did the chestnuts the old fashioned way. And they were fab.

But at some point during the feast my fertive mind took hold and I wondered how akin chestnuts are to grub worms. They're both white and meaty, lots of protein and few carbs, a full-meal deal ... and then, of course, I stopped eating.

Well, wouldn't you?


Merry Christmas, Happy Chanuka, and all that jazz.