It’s Sunday, the last morning of a four-day break. We filled it with quiet, peaceful pursuits, laying low and recharging in our own ways. We all enjoyed sleeping in, even Hazel, who let us hit the snooze button and stay in bed long after our usual revillie. The basics got taken care of, but I’d wager we spent more time in PJs than street clothes. Jen and I caught up on the final season of Stranger Things, and watched the third Knives Out movie, which were both fantastic. I listened to the Sean Combs documentary while working on the Scout, and had to stop several times to make sure I heard some of the details correctly (I did, and they were horrifying). Our Christmas was lovely, although the stack of return boxes was large this year—mostly due to size and color issues, not displeasure over the gifts. I think we’re taking the tree down today in preparation for a frantic January, which makes me sad (I love the smell of real pine wafting through the house) and then it’s back to the grind tomorrow morning.

Oh, and apparently we invaded Venezuela. That’s just great.