Twelfth day of Yule

On another cloudy morning, with a dandelion clock in the lawn behind me, I blóted Loki, Sigyn, Hel, Narfi, Nari/Vali Lokasónr, Hǫðr, and the forgotten gods and goddesses with another little bottle of rosé, and then wassailed my trees.

D.O.P.-T.

I celebrated the new year with an hour of overtime; the newest co-worker failed to show up. Luckily "Ginevra" made it in in time for me to just catch the next bus—they only run one an hour on Sundays and holidays, and this is both. Happy New Year to all.