This One Just Might Be All Over The Place

I missed a few days of thankfulness last week, so I may have to sprinkle more gratitude posts in before Christmas. Not right now, though, because I'm tired.

Ok, one right now: I'm thankful for my pillow. And soft bed. And the ginormous warm quilt I get to sleep under. . . . If I talk about this any more, I'm going to have to quit right now and go to bed.

I was lax in my blogging because we went up to Arkansas to spend Thanksgiving with my mother, my aunt and uncle, and the three cousins I have left who still live at home. We managed to eat a lot of food, annoy my cousins, watch fabulous movies (turns out I like the latest version of the Count of Monte Cristo well enough), and let my mother play with my children. The girls had a blast being with her, making ornaments and telling her the thoughts running through their heads. And Mat's said that we'll go to Arkansas many, many times, if only to eat at Smokin' Joe's BBQ. It was some good stuff, y'all, though next time, I promise myself, I'm getting the onion rings.

Anyway, so there we were, only SIX HOURS AWAY, having a great Thanksgiving. That meant I was too distracted to find my way to a computer for the length of time it takes to compose a blog post. Then we got home and I had to do the vacation detox, which primarily consists of staring at the emails I need to respond to and doing laundry. The laundry got done today. The emails should have been done yesterday and probably won't be done for a week. Why is it that I can blog every day for weeks on end, but I can't reply to an email within 24 hours? Email is not cheese--it does not need to age. And yet I let them age on their pixelated shelves, staring at them as time passes and answering them only when they are fully ripe. How they come to be ripe is a mystery to me, and one I should solve so that I may be a more . . . punctual . . . and considerate respondant.

I'm still yawning. That big quilt is so cozy and there's this cold spot on my calf that just wants to be warm.

I did a silly thing. I took my camera to Arkansas and didn't take a single picture. Dearest aunt, dearest mother, please send your pictures so I may post them on the blog!

Abby wanted to know what happens when books go unsold. They are shipped back to the publisher for a refund. A refund! There's no risk to the store--they always get their money back. Not much risk to the author, either--they don't have to return their advances and a pitifully small amount of them earn out said advances (sell enough books to cover the cost of their advance). Publishers risk so much to get books out to the general reading populace that sometimes it's a wonder books get published at all. With the economic crisis hitting publishing and the introduction of Kindle and other e-book readers, it'll be interesting to see what happens. I'm still an ink and paper kind of gal, so Kindle holds no attraction for me, but it seems that a lot of people are finding it convenient to be able to download a book for a few dollars. I can't imagine being able to carry the whole of my library in one hand. What happens if the e-book reader dies? Poof. There goes the library. Anyway, the publishing-related blogs I read predict a radical revolution in the next few years. I doubt that Kindle will change the face of literature consumption the way iPods changed how we handle our music, but it could make a serious dent. I'm definitely taking the wait-and-see position on this one.

The cold spot grows insistent. I must go. But not before mentioning that I played Guitar Hero for the first time this past weekend and my cousins, especially Jacob, were kind enough not to laugh at my pitiful attempts. My own husband schooled me by 20%. But at least I got through the song! That's all I wanted to accomplish.

The End.