As I’ve written on numerous occasions, I’m a big believer in celebrating Christmas for the full twelve days, to the greatest extent the modern world will allow. If you look back at my diaries for this week in previous years (can you believe I’ve been posting them for over six years now?) you’ll see that it has not usually been possible to the extent I’d like. But starting last year it became much more so, and now that I’m officially semi-retired the chief impediment is my compulsiveness. For example, the week before Christmas I got an email from Bob Zadek, asking me to be on his live radio show at 8 AM on the 3rd day of Christmas, so I dutifully set my alarm for 7:30, trudged downstairs for a cup of tea, then got back under the covers to do the show naked (which is one of the advantages of radio). Then for the last week I’ve mostly kinda slacked off except for keeping up with my writing and cooking and household chores and such; from the time I got up on New Year’s Eve to sometime after breakfast on Saturday, I didn’t even bother to put on more than my comfy old robe (and no, I’m not wearing anything under it). But tonight is Twelfth Night, and tomorrow I’m driving back to Seattle for an extended date with Dr. Quest (the first engagement of my semi-retirement!), so I guess I’ll have to let Yuletide go into carnival. And maybe I’ll bake a king cake next week.