Think about what it was like for Elrond. Galadriel was his mother in law, and his wife was tortured by orcs until she (Celebrían) fled into the west.

Can you imagine Thanksgiving dinner?

Sunday Night

I built a fire. There’s snow coming down outside, and the world beyond the balcony is cold and wet. My balcony has slats instead of a rail, and snow drifts in between the slats. It spills over the stuff sitting out there and shows a few footprints. They look like boot-prints, but they’re just from sandals.

I’m reading now, really attacking some comments I’ve received. I have a lot to say, but I need to listen more. This is valuable, and I really need to think about it. In homework and research, I usually read enough to do a step, do the step, and repeat. Not this time. Everything needs to be inside my head before I move on and needs to be read a few times.

Tomorrow’s a holiday. That’s luck.