Brief Thoughts on the Third Day of Christmas

I love cassoulet. I also love Christmas cookies, especially The Neighbor's date pinwheels for which I must soon get the recipe.

I love "White Christmas". Danny Kaye was really handsome.

I cried during the Nutcracker yesterday. I always do. It's not so much the beautiful staging of the PNB version or the story itself. There is always a moment, somewhere toward the end, when I look around McCaw Hall (no slouch of an arts venue, by the way) and become intensely moved by the fact that here we are in the jaded, war-ridden 21st century and people will still flock to see a Tchaikovsky ballet. This is the enduring and yes, healing power of art. Good art continues to speak to generations far removed from it's original context. And of course, every generation has been jaded and war-ridden...I'm not one of those who thinks things are so much worse now then they were "when I was a child". We have more technology and there's no such thing as penny candy anymore but the fundamental human struggle continues "same as it ever was". Still, little kids en pointe and women in tulle dancing through swirling snowflakes invoke the same joy and awe in this generation as they did way back in the day. And I think that's pretty terrific.

And that is all I have today because I really am determined to finalize the first draft of my book before the end of the year and that, if you haven't noticed, is only a few days away.