Christmas Eve now, and one thing more before the Blob departs for a couple of days of rampant festive-ing.
("And one thing more." See what I did there?)
In honor of the season, I'll turn things over to Charles Dickens, and a passage from "A Christmas Carol" I post every year somewhere because it seems to me the appropriate thing to do:
"Again the Ghost sped on, above the black and heaving sea -- on, on -- until, being far away, as he told Scrooge, from any shore, they lighted on a ship. They stood beside the helmsman at the wheel, the look-out in the bow, the officers who had the watch; dark, ghostly figures in their several stations; but every man among them hummed a Christmas tune, or had a Christmas thought, or spoke below his breath to his companion of some bygone Christmas Day, with homeward hopes belonging to it. And every man on board, waking or sleeping, good or bad, had had a kinder word for another on that day than on any day in the year; and had shared to some extent in its festivities; and had remembered those he cared for at a distance, and had known that they delighted to remember him."
Merry Christmas, to those who celebrate. And the happiest of holidays to those who don't.