I didn't actually get much done at all on Sunday, and I ended up falling asleep early, which is why I'm typing this on Monday morning.

(Hmmm. This morning's Sesame Street is a rerun of episode #3696 again, AKA "Star Worms: Episode I." For reasons that made sense at the time and have gotten halfway useful since, I've been keeping track of the episode numbers. The past three weeks' worth of Star Worms stuff actually seems to have been an abridgement of an earlier season, ending fourteen episodes later with Slimy's return to Earth in #3785. But I digress. The new season starts in January, at any rate...)

Anyway, rather than catching up on the saga of my life just now, I wanted to address an issue that's been nagging at me for the past few days. It seems that half the journals I read have been offering Christmas cards to their readers.

Obviously, this isn't something I do. And while the American commercial establishment seems to have convinced the public that presents have something to do with Chanukah, I'm not aware of anybody who actually sends Chanukah cards, so I can't even fall back on that as an alternative.

At the same time, do I feel a bit left out? In a word, yes.

I'm considering going as far as offering to put it into any poetic form desired, but then I might be accused of showing off. Which would indeed be the case, although it owes more to the fact that I like playing around with verse and stuff, provided that it doesn't actually have to be good verse. On the other hand, somebody might call my bluff and ask for a sestina, and I'm not sure I'm up to that.

Maybe if I imposed a 14-line limit? That'd still leave room for sonnets, roundels, triolets, limericks, haiku, and short Emily Dickinson parodies...

Hmmm. Y'know, I kinda like this idea. Beats me if I'd get any takers, though. Any thoughts?