the winter's tale

Despite my best intentions, I haven't posted much over the last few weeks. And I really need to. For starters, I have five reviews of books I read earlier this year that I need to get up, if for no other reason than to get my year-end post out in a timely manner. And then there's Christmas. Christmas was good this year. So I should write about it. Until I do, you can catch a preview at Sis's blog.

Right now, however, I must post the invitation to our Fourth Annual Twelfth Night Celebration.

Hmm. It's not supposed to be red. It's supposed to be blue. Pretty, pretty blue.

Anyway, that's neither here nor there at this point in time. What is here or there is that you're invited to the party. In theory, if we're Facebook Friends, I've invited you over there. And if we're not, you'll hopefully receive an e-mail later today. (Though I wouldn't hold my breath.)

So here are the partics.

It's next Monday evening, January 5. It'll start around 7ish and go until around half 10ish.

We'll have cocoa and wassail. Because it's important that you wassail our trees and speak lovingly to the stubborn oak that refuses to grow more than thirteen leaves. Just don't be too loud as I don't want the Weeping Cherry to overhear and get jealous. Because he responded quite well to the wassailing last year and was gorgeous this year.

We'll have a little fire pit with hot dogs and marshmallows for the roasting. Because you know you want to hit a winter barbecue.

Bring along the kiddies. If you want. You can also use this as an excuse to leave them with someone else to watch.

Just come.

For a refresher on the origins of Twelfth Night, check out Absent's post from way back when.