But seriously, Cassie, Happy Yule, Let There Be the Coming of the Light. If we were neighbors, imagine that, I'd've built a cool snow fort in our adjoining backyards, where I could, as a random gesture of kinship, fire up the hibachi with hickory briquettes, cedar cypress and white sage; & put some comfy wool blankets down at the last moment; & invite U and yours out roun’ midnight tonight to eat russian tea cakes (nutballs)& drink Baileys straight-up until it freezes solid in our rocks glasses or we all get pissdrunk and in need of heat, whichever comes first, gently & siberiasly ringing in Winters’ Solstice like some beat lovin’ freaks from some late 7th Century tribe of fun-lovin hooligans on a ceremonial bender.