Cure Arthritis with a raisin

You can, you know, if you simply click on the link in Google that might show up at the bottom of your account page, which they JUST CHANGED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION. That link looks like it might take you deep into the secret recesses of arcane sun-dried knowledge that hasn't seen the broadcast light of day since Zoroaster was a nappy-wearing nubbin of a prophet.

Yes, raisins. Or, to be more specific, 'a' raisin. No, I did not click the link, for I do not have arthritis. The raisin, she would do me no good at all. Might was well tell me that inhaling cow farts is good for baldness, or that rubbing newt spit on my underarms would cure excessive....wait, I might could use that one.

Where dem dang newts? And what makes them salivate?

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In other news, there were tornadoes in the area yesterday evening. None in my neighborhood, which was slightly too bad because who doesn't like a nice Class 1 tornado skudding across their skyline, whipping dead limbs off 'heritage trees' and causing just a tee-tiny bit of mayhem that might give them an excuse to stay home from work in the morning? Really now. Oh, we had ONE tree limb down in the lot next door, and some leaves scattered around, but nothing much more than that except some enthusiastic bursts of wind, some very large puddles of water, and an extremely long commute home in the dark and wetly rain.

And once I got home? It was time to turn right back around and go out for a 7 p.m. appointment. By 9:15, when Tinkerbell pulled safely into the driveway again, never was there a more welcome sight than the Tiny House's Holiday Light Display and the twinkle of the half-bedecked tree shining through the living room windows.

Oh yes, the TH is starting to glow in anticipation of the Most Wonderful Time of the Year. There are sprays of pine boughs on the porch columns, half the garland is done on the porch rails; the tree has lights and garland and some ornaments (many many more to come); the BAT (the big-ass teevee) is tarted up with some garland and rope beading of its own; and the holiday cards are going up on the wall in the LR, a pastiche of holiday greeting from around the world, most of them from people I don't know.

All the house needs now is the smell of baking cookies, some carols playing low in the background, and a tumbler full of well-iced bourbon and it would be absolutely perfect.

So why am I thinking of going to NYC for Christmas?

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Update on yesterday's much-dreaded meeting: it was fine. Nobody but one guy had really even READ the stuff I slaved over all THANKGIVING WEEKEND, and the preclinical guy was editing HIS stuff while people were going over mine, so it could have been much much worse.

Phewf.

Y'all have a great day and a wonderful weekend. Don't forget to click that raisin if you need to. I'm off to squeeze some newts.