Storyteller: You haven't posted in a bit, Erin. Have they been running you ragged at home?
MN: Don't you know it. Between wrapping presents, and having that huge party for the neighbors (big success, by the way), angsting over the work vs. grad school question, having a really sticky spacebar on the computer...
Nora: But the quilt! Is it safely there?
MN: Yes, Mom and just I got the confirmation from the shipping company. The quilt finally arrived in Atlanta just after noon yesterday. So I think the quilt people will have by now opened the box and gone ooh and aah. Or something.
Nora: But you sent it out on Saturday.
MN: Yeah, well, we live several states north, and plus there's all the assorted scanning and processing, plus, the system's probably backed up with presents and things from across the U.S. ...but it got there, and that's what matters.
Storyteller: Oh, excellent, excellent...hey, wait a minute, Erin, there's something different about you.
Nora: Holy cow, did you get your hair streaked?
MN: Yeah, I was crazy enough to go out yesterday and get my medium-sandy-brown mane streaked with a chemical shade that the hairdresser called 'caramel.'
Storyteller: Crazy's the wrong word. It looks nice on you.
MN: Aw, thanks. How'd the caroling go the other night?
Storyteller: Oh, it was divine, divine.