The cow just jumped over the moon, I saw it!
Of course, by ‘cow’ I mean International Space Station (ISS), and by ‘jumped’ I mean swung smoothly over a period of several seconds (ssoposs). And by ‘moon’ I mean—you know—the Moon (M).
For a space geek (and I should think, really, for any oxygen-breather), it was kind of thrill and a nice cap to Christmas. (I’m indebted to my friend, Jeff, who called moments before to let me know! It was way worth standing out in the 12-degree chill!)
And speaking of famous old poems, to commemorate my FP present from WP, I’ve done a brief riff on the opening stanzas of an old favorite…
The Night Before Christmas
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro’ my blog,
Not a reader was online; they’re drinking egg nog.
I’d written more pages with pictures and jokes,
In hopes to pull in a whole new crowd of folks.
My notepile was indexed from alpha to zed,
While visions of future posts danc’d in my head.
And iTunes playing softly, and a small bit of booze,
Had settled me down for a brief winter’s snooze —
When then my email an alarm it did render!
I rolled from the couch to see who was the sender.
Away to my laptop I crawled like a snail,
Turned off the screen saver, and maximized mail.
The count on the inbox was really quite high.
I had dozens of unreads I saw with a sigh.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a long list of likes, and it soon became clear.
What had now happened to me, and I was impressed;
I knew in a moment it must be Fresh’ Pressed!
More rapid than ever those messages came.
And there in my pending queue, comments to tame!
Now! Reply, now! Answer, now! Reply and Approve,
On! Comment, on! Smiley, on! Font style and text move.
To see my hit counter, makes me laugh like a lune!
Now post today! Post today! Post today soon!
Thanks again, WordPress!
It’s been a fun ride these few days (and it apparently ain’t over). I’ve met some really nice new folks who dropped by the party!
And I saw the ISS!
Or maybe… just maybe… it was Santa headed back to the North Pole. Problem with that theory is that the sky trail appeared headed south.
So we’re in that part of the year — between Christmas and New Year’s — that really needs its own name: I propose we call it Chillaxmas!
We’re in the post-coital glow of Christmas with another blowout party only days ahead. Even if you do have to work, in most places no one takes it very seriously, and you can goof off.
(Or diligently apply yourself to those little tasks you’ve put off all year… always an option, just saying, and no I don’t, either.)
And as I mentioned yesterday, technically we’re in the Twelve Days of Christmas (or on the First Day of the Seven Days of Chillaxmas, if you prefer).
We really should cuddle and bask in the warmth and glow for a bit, ya know? Catch our breath for the second round!