Thought the kids were tired and would want to go to bed as soon as we landed back a the loft.  But no.

Second wind… more like a 20th and 30th.  So I have some time in the nook to note about Mom’s dinner, tomorrow being xmas eve, everything I have to bring over to their house.  I’m relaxed, no concern, not shaken as it might be hoped.

Watching the kids relax on the loft floor, asking Christmas questions like when I’ll wake up and “Daddy, can I wake you up at 5:30 if I wake up then?”

Envy their focus, priorities.  Nothing I can do but keep getting old.

Setting alarm for 5am.  Accepting their challenge and interrogation.  ’23 is all early wakes.  Work days, and other.  All of them.  Each day has to be extended, 1000+ words.

More journalistic.  Who, when, what, some how…