It's too late. The list is made, the envelopes are stuffed, we're headed to the post office--and only nine days late. (Being late is part of the tradition.)
Since Lady Steed and I were wed, we have planned to send out an annual family letter--just on some holiday other than Christmas. (Note: This should not be construed as demonstrating our allegiance to those warriors against Christmas, as may be explained later according to certain principles that will be explained later.) We originally planned on picking Halloween since it is Lady Steed's favoritest of holidays, but in the end we just made up our own holiday: the Last Day of the First Month of the New Year.
January 31, 2005 was the first year we sent out such a letter and this year is the second.
This year's is a much more elaborate creation, although receivers should keep in mind that the letter is, after all, still only in its second year. And given our resources, please forgive any extremely embarrassing spelling errors or my blood on your staples.
This blog post is particularly aimed at people who have never been to Thmusings before and have arrived here via the LDotFMotNYl. No one else feel left out, but I am now going to introduce Thmusings to said neophytes.
Thmusings (née Tehachapiltdownman) is a blog written by me. I am Thmazing. I am also Theric. Many people just call me Th. Pick any of those. But not my so-called real name--for anonymity reigns on Thmusings.
Thmusings is many things--most of which are not according to instructions.
Anyway, welcome. If you are coming here because of our letter, you are welcome. Feel free to look around--I can vouch for the crowd that hangs here.
And to those of you who are longtime Thmusings visitors, you're still welcome too, of course.
As an added bonus to those who have received the letter and are now visiting Thmusings, and as an added bonus to those who have not received the letter but are still visiting Thmusings, I will be posting some Deleted Scenes from time to time. The scenes were deleted from the L-Dot F-Mot letter, but will live anyway when they find a home here. Our family policy on the War on Christmas is one such deleted scene. I would even include it now but it's at home and I'm not and, well, you know....
Anyway, one more time: Welcome. Young and old, innocent and experienced. Come thmuse with me.