Intensely personal, sweeping, sultry landscape. Sometimes, sweet. Sometimes, salty.

Heading for two pre-trial hearings and two preliminaries in two days. Potentially, four pre-trials, depending upon how the pleas pan out. Guess I'll soon see what kinda stance The People's Prosecutor takes. My silent bets are on continuances. A minor atmospheric river storm's already blown in. Timing's everything. I'm not-so-secretly kinda liking being stuck here, for the time being.

Christmas tree is sparkling. It's as much decorating as I typically do. Can't stand tinsel. Last of my Christmas-related orders placed, today. Favored non big corporates, this year. Opted for recycled newsprint wrapping paper/ribbons and salvaged, sentimental tree ornaments. Such subdued simplicity is surprisingly refreshing. I'm still pondering purchasing shoes. I also have flights and hotel reservations to book for some scheduled, non-holiday related travel in early January. Bright lights, big city. My indifferent, highly spoiled, little critters will be needing themselves a sitter. A novel experiment in courtesy and co-operation for all involved.

Meanwhile, mentally, I'm wiped out. Most of my day engaged in telephone tag, putting out various escalating fires. I had to get insistent,at one point. Rarely rude. Pesistence pays off, though. So I'm reliably informed.

Yesterday was complete and utter garbage. Turning a page, rather than ripping one out, again. Critters need cleaning out. Although, I've already gotten filthy looks from them during our belated brunch for my even suggesting doing same. Overdue is overdue. Stench does not tend to mature well with age. Any age, for that matter. Stink brings bugs. I don't countenance bugs. On windshields, or otherwise.

Ditto for my fridge. Same goes. Part of my issue is that I'm indifferent towards and disinterested in a lot of food. I'm like a magpie with ADHD when it comes to my affinity for pretty grocery packaging, and my “Oh, look -shiny!” mentality. In no way whatsover means that I should acquire anything, because most often, the contents definitely do not match up to whatever's being promised.

I'm certainly no cook. I baked, once upon a time. I learned from watching my maternal grandmother working in her kitchen. My Christmas desserts were sold in a restaurant, at one time. During another very distant and different life. Will I bake, this year?. I dunno. Solo is such a dull gig. All work and no play. Not wrong. Nor do two wrongs make anything right. Still. Life.