Whistling in the Dark

Yeah, I admit it. I stole the title of this blog post from a song. If you can name the artist, you'll be my new best friend, except that no one could ever replace Bestfriend, aka Baby Spice, aka My Partner in Crime. So you'd have to settle for being Bestish Friendish. But still, it's a title to be cherished for all eternity, or at least until Tuesday.

We are pretty much snowed in here, which isn't necessarily a bad thing because I've got a shload of crafty crap to do before the holidays, and Scillius Maximus loaned me a whole big bag of books. Sadly enough, I'm well over halfway through, but this is only because I have mastered the skill of readand. I can readandcook, readandcolor, and readandcrochet (but only if I turn the pages with my feet... no worries, Scillius, I wore clean socks).

Unfortunately, we've acquired a light gremlin at our house, which makes this whole reading thing kind of difficult. Currently, six lights in our home are malfunctioning: one basement light, one bulb of the dining room chandelier, the kitchen light, one bulb of the Batson's floor lamp, and two bulbs over the bathroom vanity. At the rate we're going, we will soon be living in the dark ages, so I've asked Santa for some stone tools. It's good to be prepared for these eventualities.

Darned gremlin. I told Slayer we shouldn't feed the darned thing after midnight, but does he listen to me? Nooooooo.

I think I should sic the ice skating zombies on the light gremlin. Or maybe Tom Cruise. Because without enough light to see by, there's no way I'm going to finish the crochet lightsaber. I found the coolest pattern, and I figure that all of our local ninjas will be happy about that, because the Batson likes to whack them with light sabers, and he hits really hard for a five-year-old. I've got your back, ninjas. In fact, I think that after the whole Christmas thing, I shall implement Support Our Ninjas day. Because really, ninjas don't get their due, mostly because no one can ever find them.