So here we go, eh? Take a weekend away, a momentary breath from it all, and take a day or so to stand up straight and let your bones and brain cells settle back into their proper places.

It was the right thing to do, despite the boredom and tedium of driving from here to there and back again. A weekend at the Geek Farm, out east of Atlanta, will do just about anyone good.

Q: How to know you've probably done too much baking in one day?

A: When you reach out for something with your left hand and are horrified to realize that you're using all four of your fingers together, as one, to oppose your thumb. Just like you would, if your left hand was in an oven mitt.Yes, indeed, the holiday baking is done at last. The final tally of destruction: two batches each of fudge, Boston cream candy, gingerbread, chocolate chip cookies, peanut brittle, and one batch of blondies.

This fudge is dangerous—and useful.

Back before Jeff and I got married, I had a lot of friends who were from northeast Arkansas. I wanted to see all of them, but I also didn't want to wear out my welcome. Thus, I would pack about two changes of clothes and move from house to house, staying only a night or so at each place and washing my clothes upon each arrival.

Kat finally found her roll of film from our trip to New Orleans earlier this year. It contains some pictures that I referenced in a previous entry, The Jester of Jackson Square. They’re linked in that entry now, if you’re curious to see photos of the balloon artist (Checkers) I was describing.

There are also a few other pictures from that trip which don’t fit in with the theme of that entry. Full photoset here.

This is my birthday present to myself.

I spent the night playing with friends and laughing and pouring the occasional drink or two. We played cards and sent everyone except John (who is staying with us) home. We talked, he and I, until five a.m.—about Kenya, parents, siblings, past dates, love, life, and everything in between.

It is 5:20 on the day of my birthday. A year ago today, right about now, I was with Andy and Jen in New Jersey, preparing to take a train into New York. For my first taste of Manhattan.Through a typo while posting last year's NYC pictures, I marked a set of pictures as being from the Empire State Building when they were, in fact, from the top of World Trade Center 1. I made a comment to a netfriend about a picture of him at the same place; he said, "No, Amy, that's not ESB."

All is quiet here in west Alabama. I am tucked away, typing merrily, in the back bedroom of the house, still not quite dressed for the day. I doubt seriously that anyone else even knows that I'm up yet, which is fine by me. I like having a bit of time in the morning between wakefulness and conversation that allows me time to gather my thoughts, settle the last remaining embers of dreams into the dustbin of the day, and ease into the day as I'm ready.