Time Surely Flies. . .

Yeah, I've been quiet for quite a while. I blame the holidays. We traveled south to the Grandparents Sweetie home for Thanksgiving, and they don't have WiFi! I know! There was one computer wired to the incoming cable, and five of us with laptops! In the past we have ridden on the coat tails (okay, okay, stolen bandwidth) from neighbors, but they weren't running their WiFis either. So I kind of fell out of the habit.

Upon returning home, of course, there was the Attack Of Christmas, and there is simply no whining I can do about that holiday that every last one of you isn't sick of, so we'll just skip that.

Post-Christmas, however, that is a tabula rasa. I can work with that.

We have established a new routine here at Chez Evil, that will just about last until the kidlets return to school: Monty Python dinners. Cpt. Sweetie received the entire series on DVD for Christmas, and we have been watching a disc each evening while eating dinner.

Can we talk? How is it that even 40 years later, Monty Python is still so funny? And how must it be to be one of those fellows and realize that nothing you do the rest of your life will be as big as Python was and is? I don't know about you, but I was about 14 when I discovered The Boys, and some of their lines have entered my brain and I say things that I no longer remember came from there. It's like coming out of of amnesia to see Graham Chapman leading a group of Vikings in clamoring "Fishie, fishie-i-o!" and realize "That's where that came from!"

It's a bit odd, probably, for the kidlets to watch some of the saucier skits with Their Parents, but really, isn't that a transition we all have to make, recognizing parents and kids as people?

Thus far, that was probably the most successful gift of the whole Festivus.