December 25, 2024
Christmas evening. I’ve been merry all this day, as the songs say, with a full heart of holiday spirit. Gratitude for that. Services at Saint George’s last night were sweet, and not quite the disappointment one expected in our state of exile. Sad to think, though, that All Souls stood silent on Christmas Eve for the first time since 1896. Even now Sweetboi stands amid the garden beaking to pieces his Christmas feast. Before noon today I finished the revision of The Garden of the Bears, and wept.
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