sup

She humours me.

I’m up too late again.  Christmas shopping!  There was that one upside to the world before the intertubes – the shopping stopped when the stores closed.  Now it’s 1:30 in the morning and I’m cruising Amazon for just the right Avengers toys.  Or Lego.  Or any of the million other awesome toys that nephews might love.

To get to our subway stop we have to pass by a Christmas tree vendor.  We don’t have to have to.  It’s just not out of our way to take that particular street.  Nice folks.  We’re getting to know them.  From Quebec, actually.  At first Marjorie claimed she just wanted to smell the trees.  But after four or five pine-scented excursions, she’s asking questions about how long a given species lasts, when they might expect more smaller ones to show up… We’re not even going to be here for Christmas.

Clearly, my zest for the season is contagious.

So there might be a tree.  M being M, she researched.  She found that you have to have a fake tree for seven years before you’ve offset its environmental impact compared to farmed (real) trees.  I didn’t think to ask how they figured that math.  Water usage?  Pollutants?  Don’t know.  But it means I can feel better about paying $70 for a real tree.  Wait- what?  Seventy dollars?  Yep.  And across the bridge in Manhattan I have seen $115 trees with my own eyes.  Crazy.  But hey, it’s Christmas.

Nevertheless, I’m inclined to wait on a tree (live or not) until next year.  We won’t be here this year, Avery wouldn’t remember it regardless, and we’ve done a beautiful job decorating the massive concrete pillar in the outside corner of our living room.  Pics soon, I’m sure.

Then again, next year we’ve been talking about doing something tropical.

Meanwhile, tomorrow, Lee and I are hoping to meet online with Mr Brian Dobson for some last minute feedback before we send this script off to [Secret A-list Person].  And then it’s sent.  Tomorrow.  It’s time.  Perfection is the enemy of good enough.  Funny how for me that expression works so well both ways.  I strive for perfection, but you need to know when it’s good enough so you can move on with the next thing.  Relentlessly pursuing perfection every time just means you get to do fewer things.  Know your audience, give them more than they asked for, and move on.

Speaking of, time for bed!  Happy Monday.

Wrapped!  If not ahead of schedule then fabulously on time.  Good work, all.  Thanks to the crackalackin LP team, and to the recklessly professional CAM team.  And to the models!  I hear these videos come out in February.  Maybe I will be able to share them with you then.

Speaking of sharing, here is a happy baby:

Just gorgeous.  Where’d my genes go?  Ha.  Thank you to my beloved and thoughtful wife, who, about halfway through the day, sent me this reminder of what I’m missing.  I am so looking forward to some serious family time this weekend.

Must sleep.  Have to load out all the gear tomorrow.  But at least that’s a 9:30 start.  Worst thing about that is the rush hour crowds.  And after that’s all squared away?  Who knows?  A nap?  Something with my feet up, you best belee.  Old before my time.  Stupid knee.

Sleep well, dear reader.  Hope your weekend is everything you need it to be.