On and off.

We try hard not to laugh when you are turning your little light on and off at bedtime, but it's difficult. We don't want to encourge your delay tactics, but it really is funny.

I didn't mean to give myself a two week break from writing; I hope to feel on again soon.

I am finally finished with my classes! I'm so happy to know I'll spend evenings with you again. I won't have to hurry to press my coffee and put my bag together and then see your face pressed up against the window glass, waving goodbye. There will be goodbyes, but not like these endless graduate school leavings. I can't believe I'm finished already!

I passed my last test, a big test, but there will be more.

And I ran over a cat, I think. It must have continued it's tire-flung journey across the street; when I looked back (there were two cars behind) I saw nothing. The sound of the sickening thumps reverberated all day long. There wasn't a thing I could do -- I couldn't stop, I didn't see it coming, I couldn't stop. Someone's pet, maybe. Oh, no more of this, please.

Great Uncle G. is sick and we'll visit him tomorrow -- you'll have time with Nana and Papa too, which you've been asking for.

Two boxes have arrived from California, just for your material happiness this holiday season (Buddhamas?) and we are all lucky beyond measure, beyond the material.

As I watched you in class today, I was impressed. You are the same in class as at home or in public -- helpful, loving, smart. You don't scream and run. You tuck in your friends who stay for a nap and blow them kisses when you leave.

More soon...