so we were in norway and iceland for two weeks. it was stupendous, even though i now seem unable to sleep past nine! (on a sunday. so gross.) many, many things fell by the wayside before we left, as i was determined to finish and file my early-november work before we left two thursdays ago (i failed at that, too: i filed an essay from oslo and three pieces from reykjavík). i haven't been to see ben at the wild bird fund since early october, which is the longest i've gone without seeing him since we went on our cross-country road trip in the summer of 2015. as when we were in milan and berlin at this time last year, i took my coffee in a mountain-print onesie each morning as i read about the shitty things americans do to each other. speaking of, we'll be at our place for thanksgiving again this year: our local family will be dining with my stepbrother, who works for donald trump in the white house (i doubt i'll ever see him again; i can't imagine being interested in seeing him again). this is more than fine with me—we didn't pursue other plans this year, as i like having a quiet night alone with joe, and we're bringing leftovers to our friends' place in brooklyn for a friday-afternoon gathering.
birds and bookstores to tend, a thanksgiving lasagna to assemble, the second half of the month's assignments to address before plunging into the hyperspace of the late-holiday season. hair to purple. a dragon to sew up for my little niece (don't tell her). part of me wishes we could have seen the northern lights one more time, but i am glad to have swathes of cat shimmering around my head once more. you are my horrora borealis, steve.
