Gifts? Lee’s mom sent us a box of stuff. I guess…I was a little embarrassed. It’s not that my family doesn’t give gifts, it’s just not so enthusiastic. Ray can climb up on chairs now, so keeping her away from the packages is a little hard.

Ray. Ray’s tummy has graduated. She’s moved from milk-based with food to food-based with milk now. Good thing she’s not picky.

Car Notes. So after all that with the IA DMV, we’re not getting the car we were looking at. Following a couple of suspicious conversations with the seller and the financer, we decided to call it off. Sales price: changed from 7900 to 8900 to 7995. Loan amount: changed from 500 to 7500 to 5795.

Kitties! Check out the kittencam at the BBC.

DMV/IA. My experiences with the Iowa DMV, trying to clear an error off Lee’s driving record, were, to say the least, unpleasant. Call one: Me: The insurance co. would like a letter of clearance… IA: We haven’t sent out letters of clearance for five years. Me: Is there anything you can do to help me?

So what do you believe in? Depends on what frame of reference you’re using. What do you call someone who believe that what she believes depends on the frame of reference used? I’m trying to think of a word, but…I can’t narrow it down to just one word. I’m a post-modern pluralistic magician (not pagan)

Organization. I had an aha! about organization today. The key to organization for people like me is the necessity to regularly reasses the actual facts against the intended/expected situation. This means, too, you have to think out what the intended situation will be, which is another weak point I have. Of course, this little realization

Joe. I’ve been cooking a lot lately (I made a post-Thanksgiving Turkey Day dinner, with all the trimmings, I mean, we’re talking homemade stuffing, here), so Joe cooked tonight, steak, spicy tatoes, onions, and shrooms, corn on the cob, bread, cheese, cheesecake. It was good. Fine. Up the ante, mofo.

Story. I have this face. It attracts stories. I work with a woman who met Maya Angelou. She was an English major in college, in North Carolina. She wrote a self-described “cheesy” novella about a girl with a fatal illness, a girl who’d been cooped up all her life and never really lived until she

Ray is patiently breaking pine needles (the long kind) into small pieces and lining them up on the chair cushion.