Season's Greetings.

Congratulations on selling those motorbikes, scrapping those chemically-inclined acquaintances, and whatever happened to that goat. How's the gun range daddy who built the dividing wall in the driveway, and the mahjong mama that slept with one of her kids when I came over to borrow crayons? (Before some middle-school Richard gets screechy, they slept, snoring, with clothes on.)

I was curious about how one time-traveling show turned out, so I found a way to watch it that is both legal and not through cable. Have to say, the recommendations are fascinating. Thoughtful, really, and strangely encouraging, to have a feed that contains a movie with Russians in London and another one that's Japanese subbed-not-dubbed - especially while I'm having a look through those languages (3 crowns and 24 as of this writing). For something lighter, I'll gladly try the seasonally-appropriate one with the playful round fella who's all about hugs.

And because it can't be all about entertainment, I'll follow that up with some science on healthy default restaurant food, and some international affairs on H-1Bs. Reading, because it's detrimental spending too much time watching that musical chairs game of news anchors and wondering when their bodies or inhibitions give out from the effects of breathing in all that spray.